Page 107 of With a Little Luck

Not bad, right?

I was worried I wouldn’t be able to find enough audio files to fill both an A and B side, but luckily, Pru and Ari have been hard at work uploading new songs to Ari’s YouTube channel. Though none of them have gotten as much attention as “Downpour,” her views and subscribers are shooting up daily. The hardest decision has been figuring out which songs to pick, as I consider things I’ve never considered before, like the musical flow between songs and whether or not this album should “tell a story.”

But that’s a dangerous path, because if there is a story, I want to be a part of it, and I’m not sure if I am. Ari sings about love a lot. She sings about heartache and feelings unrequited. She sings about hiding and pretending and trying to move on. Could anything here be inspired by me, or is it the height of arrogance to even ask that?

Finally, I make my selections and upload them to the site.

Next comes the hardest part: artwork. I’ve been thinking about it all day, but haven’t figured out the Just Right Thing yet. A photo of Ari and her guitar? Something from her video, or one of our open mic nights? I’ve gone through her socials and Pru’s, looked back through countless photos of us together, and … yeah, okay, maybe wasted a lot of time staring dreamily at pictures I never thought to stop and admire before. The way her nose scrunches up when she’s mid-laugh. The way her lips quirk to one side when she’s about to tease me about something. The way she mindlessly chews on one knuckle when she’s trying to think up the perfect song lyrics.

There are a lot of great photos of Ari, pictures that make my heart squeeze so tight I almost can’t breathe. But for the cover of her first album? Nothing seemsright.

And then … an idea.

I pick up my phone again and open my folder of scanned art. Right at272the top is the sketch I did of Araceli the Magnificent onstage at the music festival, the audience listening rapt in front of her.

It may not have been what theDungeonwas looking for, but for this … it might work. Actually, it might not be bad at all.

Except, something’s missing.

It takes me a second to find the original artwork. I make a few copies, then spend an hour adding sparing strokes of watercolor until I’m happy with it. (I guess I did learn something that day in visual arts, despite all my fumbling around.)

The back of the album, I decide, will be black with white line art like the doodles in her first video. A cloud with a lightning bolt, swirls of waves down below, a sailboat, and a few tiny hearts beside the song list.

The hardest part is figuring out how many copies to order. How many will actually sell at the store? But in the end, I just order as many as I can afford.

My finger hovers over the “complete order” button for a long moment, remembering when I put my hand over Ari’s to post her first video. Back when I was luckier than King Midas.

Of course … in the end, I guess he wasn’t all that lucky, either.

I brace myself and place the order.

Exhaling, I sit back.

I hope they arrive in time.

I hope she likes it.

Also … I should probably do some homework.

A merciful knock interrupts me just as I’m pullingThe Great Gatsbyfrom my bag. “Yeah?”

Penny pokes her head down the stairs. “Are you busy?”

“Uh … nope,” I say, tossing the book onto my desk and shutting the laptop. “Not really.”

She hops down the stairs, her violin clutched in one hand. “I was wondering if you would listen to my solo.”273

“Oh. Yeah, sure. When’s your next recital?”

“A week from Wednesday.”

“Let’s hear it.”

She beams at me and raises the violin, nestling it under her chin. It takes me a second to realize she doesn’t have her sheet music with her. I know she’s been working hard to memorize more of her parts lately, and I’m impressed before she even starts to play.

Penny draws the bow across the strings. The sound warbles at first. There’s an aura of uncertainty, of doubt.

But then the tempo picks up, and the nerves seem to fade away.

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