“You’re seriously talented. And you haven’t taken your chance at being an art major yet?” He cocked his head to get a better look at the other page.
“Not that talented.” Plus, it was for practical use more than to be art.
A book of shadows wasn’t only meant to be stared at and judged and picked apart for meaning. A book of shadows was a piece of the witch and the culmination of their practice. I wanted to make sure mine represented me at least somewhat after all the years of hiding in a fuzzy black-and-white composition notebook.
“And then I wouldn’t have time to do what I wanted.”
“I don’t mean this in a bad way, Lu, but why did you come to college?”
I blinked. That was frank.
“I just mean, if you don’t want to do anything … or is it the opposite?” He tried to make himself sound better. “You want to do too much?”
“More the second one, I think. Most of the time,” I admitted. “I don’t know. The experience drew me. I always wanted to get away and meet other people and live. Next step in life was college. I certainly didn’t have the means to jet set off on some grand expedition around Europe for a gap year or something.”
The idea had crossed my mind more than a few times throughout the years. Run away. Find my own magic.
Instead, I had come to Barnett and found a different sort.
“That would’ve been great. Huh?”
“You would’ve put off your grand football scholarship opportunity to become a nomad for a while?” I tried to imagine Ryan with a heavy backpack on his shoulders and sleeping under the stars.
“Maybe?” Ryan shrugged. “Maybe not. Still sounds nice.”
It did.
“Ah, yes. Lu. There you are,” Faith exclaimed.
She dropped a heavy book down on my table, letting it slam. A few looks turned in our direction. A few specks of dust spattered into the air.
Across from me, Ryan looked delighted at the sudden turn of events.
Faith’s attention went back and forth between the two of us, as if she just now realized we were not alone for likely another one of her projects she needed help with. “Hello.”
“Hi,” said Ryan. He lifted a hand up in greeting.
“Oh! Are you looking at Lu’s book? She has a talent, doesn’t she?” asked Faith, a whimsical expression on her face as she leaned farther over the table with us, getting comfortable.
Her long necklace, full of charms, grazed the table with the noisy clatter of a wind chime. How she passed whatever mandatory quiet course for librarians, I’d never know.
“I never knew she was an artist,” said Ryan, restating his previous comment.
“Because I’m not,” I said, hearing the grumpiness in my tone toward her interrupting. I didn’t know if it had been premeditated or not, but then again, I’d also known I couldn’t manage to stay unscathed from Faith for long. “Did you say you needed help with something, Faith?”
“I did.” She reoriented herself, looking down at the massive text in the center of us. She strummed her fingers along it. “Only now, I’m not positive what that was. It was either that I needed help finding more of this kind of book or that I wanted to tell you about my latest endeavor into how Nordic culture continues to prove the possibility of a true Arthurian era, hiding right under our noses.”
Silence hung as she pondered the blatant lie I had heard similar versions of multiple times before. The detail and overall flighty nature of Faith’s brain played well, making it a crowd-pleaser.
I plastered a smile on my face as I pushed to my feet. I picked up the book; it was much heavier than expected. “How about I assist you with this one?”
“That could also be helpful.”
* * *
When I walkedinto her office, it was immediately apparent where the large gap was on her personal shelf and where the obnoxiously heavy book was meant to be. By the time I slid it back into place, Faith’s hands excitedly cupped either side of her face.
“Are you two really?” Faith inhaled with intrigue. Any sense of calm and collected she’d had moments ago was lost. “You said before you weren’t, but here you are—”
