Meant to Be by Julie Halpern

Author:Julie Halpern
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Feiwel & Friends

CHAPTER 24

Before the park closes at six, I hold up a piece of paper to Luke reading, PAINT? He takes a minute to scribble something that, when held up from Luke’s distant location, looks like an eye exam I was destined to fail. I throw my hands up in a “huh?” position. He signals with a “one second” finger. During that time, the Devil’s Dinghies come to a stop, and I spend several minutes unhinging seat belts and hoisting children out of the boats. After that, I load another crew into their dinghies, check their seat belts, give the all-clear ride signal to the nonexistent person who doesn’t work with me, and I hit the start button in my booth. Once all this is over, I look to Luke’s position at the Ghoster. He is busy with his own job (the nerve!), so I lean against my booth and hum along to the Devil’s Dinghies ditty. It truly never gets old.

I feel a nagging tap on my shoulder, and I turn around to find Chaitu, Luke’s right-hand boy. He presents me with a folded-up piece of paper and walks away without a word. Good old Chaitu. I think that’s his name.

As the Devil’s Dinghies song tootles in the background, I gingerly unfold the note. This must be how kids felt back in the days when they had to pass actual notes in school instead of texts. Like that scene in Sixteen Candles. I love the crinkly sound of the paper.

Hey Aggy,

I can only stay an hour. Lots of family still in town for the uncle. Painting sounds fun. I’ll meet you at the cauldron.

Luke

Is it my imagination, or did my body react to seeing Luke’s name in print? Like when you think you might be having a heart attack, but it’s more in your elbow so then you realize it’s probably gas although why there’d be gas in your elbow you’ll never understand. Or is that just me? Whatever the feeling, something in my pestering gut is telling me that the feeling was a direct response to the visage of Luke’s name in his own handwriting.

Or not.

The annoying part of it all is that instead of being stoked that I will be spending one whole hour in the presence of Luke and his subtly pheromonal man musk, I am now thinking about signatures and Names and, dammit, why is my chestal region itching?

The Devil’s Dinghies round their final curve out of the terrifying tunnel, and I am able to shake off the mystical weirdness of the last two minutes. Aside from this pestering itch. Seriously, am I the only one who has it this long after the damn thing sprouts?

I consider inventing a cream specifically for the MTB. I’ll call it Soul Mate Salve. Genius.

Six o’clock comes relatively quickly, but by the time all the straggling families are ushered out of the park it’s closer to six thirty. This wouldn’t be a big deal except that it cuts my Luke time in half.

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