Page 70 of Witchful Thinking
“Do you have anything for your gallery showing?” Lucy asked.
“Not yet. I managed to get a few photos I like. I’m trying to come up with a theme.” Alex took a few random pictures of the Skee-Ball display. He checked his screen and sighed. “Nothing is speaking to me right now. So far I’m taking it easy. You’re helping me with my project. Is there anything I can help you with?”
“I don’t know. I was thinking about applying for a program.”
“Do it. You’re talented. You’ll get in.”
“I didn’t even tell you what it was about.”
“I know you. That’s all I need to know.”
Lucy clicked open her phone. She pulled up the website and went to the teachers’ page. Even though she knew the requirements from memory, she needed someone outside her family to talk to about it.
“The program’s called the Teacher in Residence Program at the Library of Congress.” Lucy showed him the program page. Alex silently read over the information. In addition to working side by side with the nation’s top librarians and researchers, she’d create materials and resources to help time-crunched teachers who needed a quick “do now” or a picture. Not to mention, she’d be able to sit and study in the glorious main reading room for hours upon hours.
Once he was done reading, he looked at her.
“What are you waiting for? This program is made for you.”
“I missed my chance to apply.” She’d been too nervous to submit last year. By the time she’d gotten up the courage to submit, they weren’t taking any more applications.
“Wait, it’s opening up again in the fall,” Alex said. “Did you see that notice at the bottom of the page?”
Lucy looked again. “I didn’t see that.” The wish was always finding a way to sneak up on her when she wasn’t expecting it.
“I’ll personally call you up and ask you if you’ve applied yet.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Why? Do you plan on changing your number anytime soon?”
“No, but—you don’t have to check up on me when you leave.”
Lucy bit her tongue. They were having a nice time, and she had gone and brought up his impending departure. She didn’t want to be that person—jumping to her phone whenever there was a text or call hoping that it was Alex. Wanting it to be him. Then her heart being crushed that it wasn’t him and feeling like a fool for wishing for him to call. She wasn’t eighteen waiting for him to reach out and connect with her. If she wanted something from Alex, she needed to open her mouth and be honest. Alex said nothing. He snapped a few pictures of the neon lights above the pinball machine before turning his camera on Lucy. She didn’t look away from him. He took a few pictures of her, then looked at his LCD screen. He made a small, excited sound.
“You look nice under neon. You’re very photogenic.”
“You’re going to spoil me with all these compliments.”
“Good.”
“I don’t know if you’re busy this weekend.”
“What’s up?”
“Auntie Niesha’s having a cookout at the house,” Lucy said. “She wanted me to invite the cute merman from the picture. She’s calling us the Karaoke Cuties.”
Laughter floated up from his throat. “I like it. That picture’s gotten me into so much trouble.”
“How so?”
“Mom and Pop keep asking me to invite you over for dinner.”
“I like your parents.” The Dwyers were nice merfolk who she always waved to whenever she saw them at the local supermarket.
“Oh, they like you, too. I think they like you better than me.”
“Well, they didn’t buy me a house.”