𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞

L U C Y

"Can you stop bouncing your leg for one second? I can't concentrate." I snap and Christina's actions halt for all of five seconds before resuming, accompanied by a little smirk on her face. Her hair is gathered on top of her head messily, with wispy curls framing her face. One of her feet is propped up on her chair, knee bent against the table and the other is bouncing up and down like she's trying to trigger an earthquake.

We're side by side, sitting in an empty studio at a table, trying to decide on a route to take for our project, but this is the third time we've met up in the past week and we don't have a single thing to show for it.

"What do you need to concentrate on? We're brainstorming."

"We aren't doing anything. Neither of us has spoken in the past twenty minutes."

"Takes two."

"Yes. I know. But I'm saying we're not compatible. We shouldn't be in a group together if we can't even pick a topic, let alone start to work on it."

"What are you saying? It's too late to switch now."

"Fuck. I know. I don't know." I mumble. "If you think of something, I'll try not to veto it right away," I offer and she turns to face me.

"Why don't we get out of here? Go for a walk or something."

"No thank you. I'd rather not talk to you outside of this building." I say and she puts her hand over her heart.

"Ouch. I didn't mean for fun. Just to get some inspiration. We could go to an art gallery and see if we feel something." I sigh.

"We can use any tool we want right?"

"How many different ways can you graffiti something?"

"Come find out."

"Alright. This is pretty cool," I say, admiring the wall art on the side of an abandoned building.

"I looked it up because I'd never seen anything like it before and it's called reverse graffiti. People use water to clean part of the wall and leave behind art, almost like a sculpture. Carving the painting out of dirt."

"But what will we make? And where will we find a wall? That's all to say this is even legal. And we can't exactly hand it in...what are you doing?" I ask as Christina pulls her phone out of her back pocket and starts typing.

"Can't be illegal if we ask permission to use a wall. And I'm sure there are plenty of dirty walls in Red Ridge. I'm emailing the professor right now to ask if we can hand our project in by taking photos of it."

"Well. It's a start."

"Thank you, Chris, for being so original and taking the initiative to—"

"Alright, let's call it. Text me when you get a reply and we'll meet again not start canvassing for walls. If it's approved."

"It will be. And I don't have your number."

"Right. Email me then."

"What do you think I'll do with your number?" She asks like she's put out but she's holding back a smile.

"Sell it. Prank call me. Sign me up for a mailing list. I don't know."

"Better check your emails then," She calls out to me as I begin walking away, planning to grab lunch in the closest diner I find before taking the bus back to the dorms. An email notification has me rushing to read it, only to find an announcement for the upcoming away tournament. It'll be four hours by bus, and we'll leave first thing in the morning on Friday, driving back after all the games are finished on Monday morning and getting back that afternoon. I groan at the thought of being cooped up on the bus that long, but at least there's never a dull moment. Once everyone wakes up completely, that is.