“Is that a bad thing?”
“Not for everyone.” I stared straight ahead at him.
If it were him going to the student council with the idea, I had no doubt they would barely even glance at the proposal or the kind of work that had gone into it before ushering it through the academic popularity contest with a striking yes.
“I doubt they will ever actually get back to me about my proposal, let alone consider it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Like I said, it was ridiculous to begin with.” I glared down at the table.
“I don’t think so,” said Ryan. “I think it would be fun. Different than the normal stuff that goes on every year.”
“You don’t even know what I planned on doing.”
“Fine then. Tell me,” he demanded, though it came out soft and self-assured rather than assertive.
“You actually care to know?”
“I wouldn’t be asking otherwise.”
“Not to make me feel like you’re a good person who deserves my help to pass your classes?”
He shrugged, not answering.
Pausing, I guessed I shouldn’t have expected him to.
“All right then,” I began. “I planned on having a small fire in one of the pits on the quad. Nothing huge, nothing fancy.”
“Good start.”
“Thank you.” I’d take the compliment where I could get it. Even if it was from Ryan Gardner. “I figured that people could roast marshmallows or throw in a piece of paper that said what you hoped to manifest for yourself in the coming year. There would be caramel apples and basic spell-making canisters and paper lanterns to send up into the sky …” I let myself drift off, thinking of my multicolored pages in the binder I’d handed over this morning.
I doubted I would ever get it all back, and I was already low on printing credits.
“Sounds like a better version than the fall festival.”
“I thought so.”
“You don’t know. There is still a chance that it could happen, though to me, it sounds like a lot of work.”
That was sort of the point.
I hummed in agreement. I reached back down toward my bag, grabbing my travel container out of the side pocket. Moving away from the table, I walked through the slowly disappearing groups of people scattered through the second floor of the library. No one sat near the water dispenser around the counter. Turning the handle to hot, I ripped open the paper packet of tea with my long, dark-purple fingernails. I dropped it inside my mug as water flowed over the top until the liquid turned from clear to a murky-gray-peppermint shade.
When I returned to the table, my cup was still steaming, and Ryan remained where he had been. He sat upright, rather like a defeated puppy, eyes wide as he stared at me to sit back down. The very beat-up copy ofPride and Prejudicewas still flung in front of him.
“I thought you said you only saw the film?” I inquired, reaching forward to pick at the worn cover’s edge.
“I skimmed.”
Or more, it appeared. Narrowing my eyes, I sat back down, swirling my tea bag around clockwise twice, counter once, and then clockwise again before taking a sip.
I winced. Too hot.
“You just keep a bunch of tea bags in your bag all the time?” Ryan asked suddenly.
“Yep.”
