Arisen by Maggie Sunseri

Author:Maggie Sunseri [Sunseri, Maggie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Maggie Sunseri
Published: 2019-10-16T16:00:00+00:00

16

Luna

“Did you sleep okay last night?” Jasper asked at the kitchen table.

Drea was looking down at her phone, tapping her foot swiftly on the wooden floor.

“Yep. Slept fine,” I lied. Neither of us had mentioned the events of the previous night.

I glanced over at Ash, but he was too busy staring at his laptop screen looking at job postings. Now that he was back in Portland, he wanted to start working again.

“Are you texting Katelyn?” I asked Drea.

“No,” she mumbled.

She got up from the table abruptly and stormed out of the room. I had to steady my coffee mug before the dark liquid could spill out. The sound of a door slamming echoed through the apartment.

Ash looked up. “What’s got her knickers in a twist?”

Jasper and I shrugged.

“What kind of job are you looking for?” I asked.

“Hoping for something in architectural design, but I might have to settle for something beneath me and work my way up.” His eyes never left the screen in front of him. “Unlike some people, I actually went to school and got my education.”

“Hey, I got an education,” Jasper said. “I liked being homeschooled for most of my life. Plus I received Oportet’s finest education for a year, and that turned out to be a very rewarding learning experience.” Jasper grinned at me, leaning back and clasping his hands behind his head.

“So you studied architecture in college?” I asked Ash.

“Our father had set aside a college fund for me and Drea. He always wanted us to go.”

“What did Drea major in?”

“She got a major in music education, and minored in women’s studies.” Ash smiled. “We all had a good laugh at that one.”

“Yeah, she mentioned wanting to give private drumming lessons,” Jasper said.

I wondered why I had never asked Ash what he was interested in until now. Architecture wouldn’t have been my first guess.

I found it fascinating that we each had our own passions and dreams, and that there didn’t seem to be any explanation for why those passions chose us. That was something I was sure of—we didn’t choose these things more than they chose us.

I was glad writing chose me. It was the only way I knew how to make sense of the world. It was the only way I could prove to myself that I was alive.

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