Page 59 of With a Little Luck

My chest warms with a tinge of pride. It’s not often I feel like I’ve beaten Ezra at anything.

On the screen, the little round monster munches and runs, munches and turns, munches and flees, dodging colorful floating ghost guys. I’m in a zone, my hands nimbly pushing the joystick. Up, left, right, down, up up up—

It’s almost like I can’tlose.

Which is when I realize. This isn’tme. This is the magic!

My hands pause on the controls. The purple ghost that should have attacked my round-faced dude inexplicably heads the other direction.

My heart sinks.

What’s the point of winning if it’s already decided?

“That’s weird,” says Quint.

“Maybe there’s a glitch on this level,” I mutter, before I intentionally run Pac-Man into another ghost.

Game Over.

“Finally,” says Pru, as the game flashes the new high score and asks me to input my initials. “Can we do this now?”

“Sorry.” I turn toward the couches. Pru is sitting with the computer on top of a throw pillow on her lap. On the other side of the couch, Ari is nervously braiding a strand of her hair while she stares at the screen. Her attention jumps up to me, and for just a second, I catch her gaze154swooping down over the new jeans and plaid button-up that Lucy talked me into. She said I could wear it over just about any T-shirt—yes, even my nerdy ones—and with the lower buttons done up and the sleeves cuffed to my forearms, it would still look good.

And even though I feel a little awkward, when I catch glimpses of myself in the mirror, I kind of like it.

And when Ari bites her lower lip and looks quickly away, I kind of like that, too.

I scratch behind my ear and sit down in the space between them, while Quint takes the recliner.

“There are eight million files here,” says Pru. “Which one are we supposed to be looking at?”

“Okay. So …” I take the laptop from her. “Here’s the original video. And here’s the one that Quint adjusted the sound on. And here …” I take a deep breath and click an MP4 file. “Is the final video. But!” I pause the video before it can start playing and look at Ari. “Before we watch it, just know that nothing is set in stone. If you hate it, we don’t have to keep it.”

“Hate what?” says Pru, her voice suspicious. She is generally suspicious of anything that wasn’t her idea first, but I’m used to winning her over. “What did you do to her video?”

“Nothing,” I say. “I just added a few graphics. But if that’s against the contest rules, or Ari doesn’t like them, they’re easy to take off.”

“We didn’t talk about graphics,” says Pru. “You were just supposed to add the credits and the subtitles, so the robot translators online don’t mess up Ari’s lyrics.”

“Yeah, I know, and I did. I also … embellished some things. I had some extra time this morning, and I was inspired, so …”

“Let’s just watch it,” says Quint.

Ari nods. “I’m sure I’ll like it.”

“Don’t say that,” I tell her. “Because you might not, and there’s no pressure. This is your video, not mine. I just thought maybe it would155help it stand out in the competition. Not that you need that. The song is great as it is.”

I mean that. I’ve had her song “Downpour” stuck in my head all day, and I memorized the lyrics while I was working on the video. I barely finished it an hour ago, before we left to come to Ari’s house, which means I haven’t had time to dwell on what I’ve done. To analyze the additions I made from every angle. To question and doubt and worry about it, which means that all the anxiety that would normally have been spread out over days or weeks is all bunching up inside me right now.

I exhale and click play on the video. The musical intro begins, with the credits in the bottom corner, just like a real music video. “I think there’s a way we can adjust the settings so people will be able to watch it with or without subtitles—” I start to say, but then the first graphic appears, and Pru and Ari gasp. I clamp my mouth shut, nerves tingling throughout my whole body.

Quint jumps up from his chair and comes around to the back of the couch so he can watch over our shoulders.

The graphics are simple line drawings, like chalk doodles that float in and out of the frame in time with the song. A shining sun in the corner as Ari begins to sing, quickly replaced with storm clouds and a flash of lightning. Rolling waves in the frame beneath her guitar. A little sailboat rocking by. Ice cream cones and beach umbrellas and spinning records spewing tiny music notes around Ari’s head.

I’m critical of each and every one of them. I mean—for one morning’s worth of work, it’s notawful, and I’m grateful for that one summer I spent an undue amount of time learning Adobe After Effects, thinking that someday I’d like to turn our D&D campaigns into mini cartoons, until I realized how much I absolutely despise the tedious nature of animating and I was definitely better suited for comics.

Still. It could be better. Those waves could be slower, to better match the rhythm of the song. That lightning bolt was too big, almost distracting. During this chorus, the breaking hearts are a little too cheesy.156

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