Page 62 of Trick Play

“This way, I think.” She pointed to the left, and I nodded. It was one way to get there. Not the fastest, but I’d correct us eventually. I was going to enjoy this day as much as possible.

We fell into step next to each other, and I wished we weren’t both wearing gloves and coats so I’d have a chance to graze her hand or bump into her arm. It wasn’t the same with layers between us.

“So, do you like history, or is this a class you had to take?”

She narrowed her eyes at me, and a small smile curled at the corner of her lips. She picked up on the game.

“Well, I used to but I fell in love with digital design my sophomore year.”

“Interesting, so you’ve always been an art major?”

She pursed her lips. “I wanted to go into art history originally, but things changed and I decided I’d rather make art than spend my life staring at it.”

That fit her better too. I never said anything back in high school, but as much as I could see her wearing suits and walking around with a clipboard and earpiece, ordering people around at some museum, I didn’t think it would make her happy. She was too expressive to not share her own work.

“Why not focus on photography or painting?”

“Turns out I’m not very good at either.” She laughed. “I can draw but not enough to create masterpieces. Luckily, technology can make up the difference. I really like working on a tablet over a canvas.”

“That’s interesting. Especially considering how new it is.”

“It’s crazy to think if I went to school five or ten years earlier, I might not have had the chance to study it. I mean, I could get a job and train to learn everything, but it wasn’t an option in many universities.”

“Everything happens for a reason.”

I sometimes hated that expression, but it did hold some truth. I didn’t like to accept it in some situations, like losing a game or getting another bad grade.

“Sometimes, yeah.”

We were getting a little too far from where we were supposed to be going, so I motioned for her to turn right at the next corner.

“And what about you? What made you take history of photography?”

I sucked in a breath. This was us playing pretend, but she was still being honest.

“I had to. It’s keeping me from failing out of school, hopefully.”

“No pressure,” she teased.

“Yeah, I hope between the two of us, we can take some decent pictures.”

I was by no means an expert. I could make sure people were in the frame when strangers asked me to take their pictures. That was about the limit of my abilities. How were we supposed to take pictures to explain the meaning?

How could we convey what the bridges meant? How I viewed them as the link to the future and the past? How much hope they provided? The freedom of choice. An escape. A way home.

I glanced at Kenny. How did I capture them in a way that showed they were the perfect symbol for how she made me feel?

Chapter 21

Kennedy

Ethan crouched down, twisting and adjusting his stance to get different angles. The golden bridge we stood at the entrance of had three arches, two smaller with the largest in the center. It was beautiful. Unique from the dozens I could see in either direction, but that was what made this city so interesting. Every few blocks were a different one, and each held a certain appeal, from the massive Smithfield Street Bridge to the short Thirtieth Street Bridge.

I loved that he wasn’t just drawn to the biggest or most ornate. He chose one that might be overlooked. That could easily blend into the background of the more famous and recognizable.

What did he see? Why was he drawn to this spot?

He spoke about their connections and the different paths they represented for us, but what exactly was it at the other end for him? What did he want there to be when he crossed to the other side? What did he want waiting for him?