Wishful Thinking Read Free Page A

application fee. Hazel had been accepted just after winter break. Miss Lew was ecstatic, and Hazel had pretended to be happy, but she already knew she wasn’t going. She’d never been out of the state of California, let alone all the way across the country, and what was the point of going to art school, anyway? It was silly, not to mention astronomically expensive. Taking pictures was something she did for fun, and to stay sane. She didn’t need a degree for that. Much less a lifetime of loans.
    “She said you were the most talented photographer she’d ever had in class,” Jasper said flatly, looking Hazel squarely in the eyes. “She said you see things different than everyone else.”
    Hazel’s skin prickled. It always gave her a jolt, hearing that other people were talking about her. Not so much that they had nice things to say, just that they had noticed her at all. Maybe it was because she moved around so much, or because she spent almost all of her time imagining her life was different. Imagining that she knew where she came from, who her parents were, what they looked like, what they did. Hazel had no idea who she really was; how was anybody else supposed to know her, either?
    “I tried not to take offense,” Jasper went on with a smile. “Luckily, the word on the street is that New York is a pretty big town. Think there’s room for both of us?”
    Jasper had gotten in early to film school at NYU. They’d worked together on a short film he’d done for his application, and he’d admitted that he’d always wished he was a better photographer. She thought the stills he’d taken on set were pretty good, but she hadn’t said anything.
    “Anyway,” Jasper sighed dramatically, like talking to her was a challenge. Hazel had no idea why he tried so hard. “I’m about to head down to SOMA to check out this new gallery show,” he said. “It’s birds, I think. Or trees. Want to come?”
    “Can’t,” Hazel said, scuffing the top of her sneaker against the rack of books. “I should get going, actually.”
    Jasper tilted his head to one side, a thatch of dark hair shadowing his face. “How about later on? There’s supposed to be this really good Thai place near the museum.”
    Jasper was always telling Hazel about the best new this or some totally underrated that. She imagined he must be on every mailing list and RSS feed in cyber-town, and couldn’t tell if he really wanted to hang out with her or just show off how many blogs he read.
    “Can’t,” Hazel said again. “I have plans.”
    Jasper nodded. “Right. Okay.” He clapped his hands and smiled again, his lips curling into a giant heart around his perfectly straight white teeth. “Tomorrow, then?”
    Hazel checked her watch, a digital piece of plastic she’d won in an arcade in Santa Cruz. It was almost time to pick up her dress.
    “Tomorrow?” she echoed, the tiniest hint of exasperation creeping into her voice. “Tomorrow’s Monday.”
    “Perfect.” Jasper grinned. “Get the week started right.”
    Hazel opened her bag and tucked her camera back inside.
    “Hazel,” Jasper said quietly.
    “Yeah?” Hazel responded, pulling her hair out from under the strap of her bag. “Sorry, I’m just, kind of, hurrying, I have to—”
    “You’re going to have to give me a chance someday,” Jasper said lightly, holding her gaze again.
    Just like that, Hazel’s cheeks were on fire. She checked her watch again, only this time she didn’t see anything but a blur of skin and plastic. “Okay,” she said, readjusting her bag and scurrying off down the street.
    “Okay?” Jasper called after her, a laugh in his voice. “Tomorrow, then?”
    Hazel tucked her hair behind her ears and prayed for the light to change so she could cross the street. After an eternity, it did. She yelled over her shoulder as she skipped to the crosswalk. “Sure, whatever.”
    Jasper clasped his hands over his head, like a champion boxer at the center of the