“This is so perfect.” I held the flyer to my chest. “Thank you for telling me. It means a lot.”
She waved her hand like it was no big deal. Her expression was like Celeste’s when she showed me my room. I know these were small things to people who were used to abundance, but it meant more than they could imagine to me.
“No worries. I’m just happy I can recommend a capable applicant,” Professor Blake said.
I grinned and sat at an empty desk in the front. My leg bounced in anticipation of going to the student lab and filling out an application as soon as class was over. This year was in the running to be one of my best yet.
Thestudentlabwason the first floor of the library, right next to the coffee shop. I tinkered with my essential oil necklace, trying to get a whiff of the lavender as I waited near the unmanned front desk.
A willowy guy with a nose ring and a thin brown cardigan finally rounded the corner just when I was ready to move behind the desk and peek my head in the back room.
“Yes?” the guy asked in a scratchy voice.
“Hi.” I smiled widely, doing my best to rid of any lingering impatience in my expression. He stared back at me, eyes blank and mouth in a straight line.
“May I help you?” he spoke slowly, like he’d rather not offer at all.
“I was told there’s a tutoring position open,” I said while bouncing on the balls of my feet. “I’m interested in applying.”
He still wore a blank expression. “A tutoring position?”
My excitement continued to fuel my tone. “Yes, Professor Blake told me one was available and there’s a sign.”
He raised a brow. “A sign?”
“Yeah…um, right in front of you.” I pointed to the small, handwritten sign that read,Needed: Student Tutor.
The writing was bold, neat, and unmissable.
“Is it?” He didn’t turn to look.
My smile wavered. “It is.”
“Hm.”
I blinked, confused. He stared back like I was the one with the problem. I tried on my smile again, but it felt a little tight.
“Michael.” A curvy woman with short black curls and winged eyeliner appeared from the back room. Her arms were full of hard textbooks, which she deposited into the guy’s arms without asking. “What did I say? You can’t hold job positions like library loans for your little friends.”
“He’ll be here in two minutes,” Michael promised. His demeanor flipped from off-putting to meek in a blink of an eye.
“You said that an hour ago. Being late for an interview is a red flag. Tell your buddy he missed his shot.” She shooed him away. Michael groaned, disappearing into the back.
“Sorry about that,” she said with a shake of her head. When she met my gaze, I marveled at the piercing blue of her eyes. She laughed, seeming to know exactly why my expression changed.
“They’re only contacts. I’m a cosplayer and got excited when I got them today. Tried them on at lunch and didn’t have time to take them out.”
“Cosplayer, really?”
She shrugged. “Never too old. At least that’s what my mother used to say when she dragged me around toStar Trekconventions.”
“No, I didn’t mean…I never met someone who cosplays in real life. Not anyone who admits to it anyway,” I confessed. “I wanted to get into it but it’s pretty intense.” Money wise.
“Oh, totally,” she agreed. “But it’s worth it. Start with something small and super low pressure. I promise you won’t regret it once you start. Fair warning, it’s quite addicting.”
“I bet.”
“So, you’re here for the tutoring position? You’re the first person who’s shown up for an interview, and I don’t even have you on my schedule.”
