before."
" I am the patron of a painter. Ramon Sanz. Have you heard of him?"
" No... Wait, Sanz. Is his signature basically just 'Sanz' with a big curling 'S'?"
" Yes, that's him."
" A friend of mine has one of his hanging in her music room. It's some kind of critter, a possum I think, sky-blue, crawling out of a garbage can, with a Chinese takeout box in its claw."
" That piece is called, Takeout III ."
" Oh, you know it! Awesome."
Jina found Brandon talking to some art-fans and returned his guitar. She dug around under a table and came up with a three-ring binder covered in stickers. There weren't any chairs, so they found a less-traveled corner by the elevator and sat next to one another on the floor as Jina flipped through photos of her paintings.
" I only paint for fun," she explained. "When I get time. Which isn't often."
" These pictures are charming," Jett said. She brushed past Jina's hand while pointing out an example. It gave Jina tingles and she suppressed an urge to grasp those elegant fingers and pull them to her face. She briefly thought of asking her out... if only she weren't so busy. And then there was Trey.
After what seemed like far too short a time, Jett stood. "Ramon will think I have vanished down a rabbit hole. I should get back." She fished out a card while Jina followed her up. "Here is my number. I will be sure to stop by Neumo's this weekend. I'd like to hear more of your rapturous music."
Jina smiled. She found herself smiling a lot around this beguiling woman. "Sure." Jina took one of her own cards out of her pocket and wrote something on the back. "I'm throwing a party in this building next Wednesday for a bunch of artists. Here's the time and room number. You should come."
" Neither stormy seas nor I-5 traffic could stop me." Jett tucked her hair behind an ear and waved as she walked back down the stairs.
Jina's heart thudded at the thought of Jett in the audience. She would try to catch a glimpse in the crowd. She yearned to follow Jett right now, to drag her away from the art walk to one of the bars on the cross street.
Was it too much to have two crushes? Reluctant faerie-seer and Ms. Patron of the Arts. Ah, sweet abundance.
Speaking of Trey, how did the chords to that song go again?
CHAPTER 13
----
EZRA SHIVERED SLIGHTLY, partly from being rained upon, and partly in apprehension of what he was about to do.
Campus buildings surrounded them in a large plaza that students affectionately referred to as "Red Square", named after its red brick paving and imposing architecture. Elder Noah chose a raised area at the top of a short flight of steps, beside a rusty sculpture of an upside-down obelisk balancing on the tip of a pyramid. Crowds passed by here, hurriedly on their way to various classes. No one lingered due to the rain, and it seemed the kind of rain that would never let up.
Either the rain or Ezra's hesitance seemed to have made Elder Noah extra cranky today. "Listen you little... Brother . My joints ache, so get up there and preach the gospel and stop acting like a child."
Ezra sighed and shuffled into position. Let the Holy Spirit guide me , he prayed. He fought back all the cruel thoughts he knew these people must be thinking about him right now. Then he cleared his throat.
" Children of God," he squeaked. It was supposed to be a shout.
" No, Ezra. Yell! Shout the gospel as if from the rooftops! Don't worry about what the words are."
" Sons and daughters of the Almighty!" he tried to bellow. His voice cracked and his breath was shoved back into his throat, so that most of "the Almighty" didn't come out.
" Don't screw this up or you'll get latrine duty and likely go to hell."
Ezra winced. He wasn't sure which was worse.
Father, please let the Holy Spirit guide me. As he prayed, he fiddled with the bracelet on his wrist, turning it with a finger on the same hand.
" Children of God!" he managed to shout. A few people turned their heads and continued on their
" I am the patron of a painter. Ramon Sanz. Have you heard of him?"
" No... Wait, Sanz. Is his signature basically just 'Sanz' with a big curling 'S'?"
" Yes, that's him."
" A friend of mine has one of his hanging in her music room. It's some kind of critter, a possum I think, sky-blue, crawling out of a garbage can, with a Chinese takeout box in its claw."
" That piece is called, Takeout III ."
" Oh, you know it! Awesome."
Jina found Brandon talking to some art-fans and returned his guitar. She dug around under a table and came up with a three-ring binder covered in stickers. There weren't any chairs, so they found a less-traveled corner by the elevator and sat next to one another on the floor as Jina flipped through photos of her paintings.
" I only paint for fun," she explained. "When I get time. Which isn't often."
" These pictures are charming," Jett said. She brushed past Jina's hand while pointing out an example. It gave Jina tingles and she suppressed an urge to grasp those elegant fingers and pull them to her face. She briefly thought of asking her out... if only she weren't so busy. And then there was Trey.
After what seemed like far too short a time, Jett stood. "Ramon will think I have vanished down a rabbit hole. I should get back." She fished out a card while Jina followed her up. "Here is my number. I will be sure to stop by Neumo's this weekend. I'd like to hear more of your rapturous music."
Jina smiled. She found herself smiling a lot around this beguiling woman. "Sure." Jina took one of her own cards out of her pocket and wrote something on the back. "I'm throwing a party in this building next Wednesday for a bunch of artists. Here's the time and room number. You should come."
" Neither stormy seas nor I-5 traffic could stop me." Jett tucked her hair behind an ear and waved as she walked back down the stairs.
Jina's heart thudded at the thought of Jett in the audience. She would try to catch a glimpse in the crowd. She yearned to follow Jett right now, to drag her away from the art walk to one of the bars on the cross street.
Was it too much to have two crushes? Reluctant faerie-seer and Ms. Patron of the Arts. Ah, sweet abundance.
Speaking of Trey, how did the chords to that song go again?
CHAPTER 13
----
EZRA SHIVERED SLIGHTLY, partly from being rained upon, and partly in apprehension of what he was about to do.
Campus buildings surrounded them in a large plaza that students affectionately referred to as "Red Square", named after its red brick paving and imposing architecture. Elder Noah chose a raised area at the top of a short flight of steps, beside a rusty sculpture of an upside-down obelisk balancing on the tip of a pyramid. Crowds passed by here, hurriedly on their way to various classes. No one lingered due to the rain, and it seemed the kind of rain that would never let up.
Either the rain or Ezra's hesitance seemed to have made Elder Noah extra cranky today. "Listen you little... Brother . My joints ache, so get up there and preach the gospel and stop acting like a child."
Ezra sighed and shuffled into position. Let the Holy Spirit guide me , he prayed. He fought back all the cruel thoughts he knew these people must be thinking about him right now. Then he cleared his throat.
" Children of God," he squeaked. It was supposed to be a shout.
" No, Ezra. Yell! Shout the gospel as if from the rooftops! Don't worry about what the words are."
" Sons and daughters of the Almighty!" he tried to bellow. His voice cracked and his breath was shoved back into his throat, so that most of "the Almighty" didn't come out.
" Don't screw this up or you'll get latrine duty and likely go to hell."
Ezra winced. He wasn't sure which was worse.
Father, please let the Holy Spirit guide me. As he prayed, he fiddled with the bracelet on his wrist, turning it with a finger on the same hand.
" Children of God!" he managed to shout. A few people turned their heads and continued on their
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