Through The Lens Read online

  “Kyle had football practice, then a late meeting,” my Dad announced, with his chest all puffed up. Dad was a notorious nerd. He was tall and lean, sporting no muscle at all. Kyle had gotten Dad’s dark hair and height, but that was about it. Everything else was Mom. His bulk, his good looks and charismatic nature were all hers. Needless to say, Dad was proud to have a son that was so heavily involved in sports. Something he didn’t do in school and therefore wasn’t a crazy advocate. Dad let us make our own choices. And I knew that because Kyle was so successful, Dad was bursting with pride.

  “It’s not fair he gets to always skip family meals,” Jenna continued. For me, I’d always let this argument go. I enjoyed family time. But today, I wished I could take a stand. It was unfair that Kyle seemed to get away with more than Jenna and way more than me. Still, I stayed with familiar patterns. Erring on the side of caution, I kept my mouth shut. I was always the easy going one. I didn’t want to end up in trouble. I wanted to go out tonight with Ethan. “Dad, I’ll be home by midnight,” Jenna said. I’d missed everything else.

  Looking up, suddenly nervous, I just spit it out. “I’m going out tonight.”

  My family stopped dead in their tracks. I mean, it wasn’t like I didn’t hang out with Madison and Bradley all the time. I guess I understood a bit. I never announced my comings and goings because why would I? Unless my words meant something totally different, which it did this time. And that something came in the form of a boy and it was painfully clear to everyone around that table.

  “Oh,” Jenna sang. “What’s his name, and why am I just hearing about him?” She looked like she wanted to clap her hands and bounce up and down in her seat to cheer me on. She’d been out last night, and I’d left early this morning. So we hadn’t talked at all.

  Recapping the story because Mom and Jenna hadn’t heard, I told them all about meeting Ethan and then getting the job at the museum. Mom was quiet. I knew she was putting all the pieces together, much like Dad did with his numbers.

  “Yum, I like. I must meet him,” Jenna said.

  “Can I check my phone?” I asked my Mom, hoping she’d have pity on me.

  Putting her fork down, she said, “If this guy is worth anything at all, he can wait until you finish dinner with your family.”

  She hadn’t said it rudely. It was just proper in her book. So even though I was a tiny pissed, I really wasn’t all that mad.

  Dinner finished, and I all but leaped from my chair to get to my phone. All for a boy I couldn’t have. After a few swipes and key strokes, I did have one missed call. Without looking back, I darted to my room already calling Ethan back.

  “Hey,” he said, his voice was like liquid chocolate over the phone.

  “You called,” I said, biting my lip. How dumb was that response? I flopped on my bed and buried my head in the pillow.

  “Yeah, I was wondering if you would meet me,” he said. “I’m running late and I was hoping we’d have enough daylight left.” Summer meant the sun didn’t dip beyond the horizon until almost nine.

  My sister had already announced she was going out. “My sister is using the car tonight,” I said.

  “Okay, well, I’ll just swing by instead of going home first,” he said. After giving him my address and rough directions, he added, “You should wear pants.” And then he hung up. It was weird. I didn’t know why he suggested that. Were the chemicals used in the photo process somehow dangerous to exposed skin?

  Jenna barged in shortly after I’d hung up. “So tell me what you won’t tell Mom and Dad,” she said playfully.

  “There’s nothing to tell. He’s a friend,” I said. When she waggled her eyebrows, I added, “And I know his girlfriend.” I sat up wearily holding my pillow to my chest, that fact never ceasing to cause a heavy weight to sink in my chest.

  Her face fell. “Well, too bad for that. Is he cute though?”

  Recalling his face, I said, “Yes.”

  “You like him,” she hedged sitting on my bed next to me.

  “No, he’s cute. And seems really nice. But he’s taken,” I said, arms tightening around the pillow

  Pursing her lips, she said, “Maybe not for long.”

  “No, Jenna. I like his girlfriend. I would never-”

  “-Pugh,” she said. “Oh well. I meant to tell you that I spoke to Josh today at practice.”

  My head snapped up. “Josh joined the cheerleading squad?”

  Grabbing a pillow, she lightly hit me on the head with it. “No, silly, and guess what?”

  “What?” I said overly dramatic.

  Rolling her eyes, she said, “He asked about you.”

  Josh Macon was one of the most popular guys in school. His short crop of brown hair begged you to run your fingers through it. But who was I to fool myself. He was another guy way out of my league. “Josh likes you,” I said.

  “No. That was over so long ago. We’re just friends.”

  “Yeah, right,” I said.

  “He knows Billy and I are meant for each other forever,” she said with her version of a thespian sigh. Billy was her longtime boyfriend. They’d been together for what seemed like forever if you considered a year and a half as forever.

  Jenna soon left to get ready, leaving me alone to do the same. I had no idea what to wear out with a boy. It wasn’t a date. We were just friends, and we were just hanging out. I told myself. Otherwise, I would have had Jenna help me. Still, I wanted to look good.

  Freshly showered and trying not to think about it, I put on a pair of faded blue jeans. I took out a shirt that was a step above a tee, but a step below a blouse and pulled it over my head. Satisfied, I put on my newer Chucks reserved for special occasions and took a look at myself in my mirror. I wished Madison were here. Jenna’s great, but she was most likely already in the full swing of her ritual to get ready. There was no interrupting her beauty process.

  Still, I found myself in my sister’s room. I didn’t ask if I looked okay because that would put too much emphasis on hanging out with a boy I had no business liking.

  “You look nice,” she said, with her hair pulled up and one eye opened wide and the other closed as she applied mascara.

  And that was all the confirmation I needed. The doorbell rang, saving me from the questioning look in her gaze and the fact that I'd wanted her confirmation was not lost on her. “You look great, too,” I threw out as I headed downstairs.

  Chapter Seven

  Racing to the door, I didn’t hear or see my parents. The only noise was the patter of my feet against the dark stain wood floor and the only thing in my sights was the door. But just as I planted my foot on the landing of the stairs, my father stepped out of the living room and directly into my path.

  Looking at me, he said in a low voice, “I want to meet this boy before you leave.”

  Grateful my Dad hadn’t voiced his request like he was using a bullhorn, I slowed my pace to the door, hoping my racing heart would have time to slow before I opened it.

  Taking a deep breath, I pulled open the door and saw Ethan standing on my stoop. He was wearing the same dark tee shirt and pants he’d been wearing to work as the required uniform.

  “Wait here a second,” I said, just as he was forming a word on his lips. I closed the door in his face and winced to myself catching his startled glance. It was a bit rude, but I was totally unprepared for my father’s interference. Turing, I followed after my Dad and into the living room and said, “Dad, I want you to be nice.” I’d been hoping to avoid this situation because technically this wasn’t a date. However, my father was having none of that. My Mom thought it was cute and told me, rules were rules. Any boy coming to pick them either Jenna or me up had to meet Dad. Never had I ever expected that to apply to me.

  My Dad unfolded himself from his usual lone chair in the room. “Jessa, baby, when am I not nice?” His feature schooled into a cool façade that made me shiver. There was no way around this. Dad had a way of making guys feel super small, at least tha
t’s what I’d seen him do on a number of occasions to the lame boys Jenna brought home. My nerd of a Dad became papa bear when boys tried to approach his daughters. This was my turn and a first for me. And I had a feeling my Dad had hoped that this day would never come. With his glasses high up on his nose and lips in a tight line, he looked especially menacing.

  Back at the front door, I opened it, ushering Ethan inside and hoping to get this over quickly. He took a tentative step. I think he thought I might shut the door in his face again. I wanted to laugh because he usually seemed to have the upper hand with me, making me feel out of my element. Though it wasn't a bad feeling, it was just a tiny bit of guilt for being rude. Though the apology firmly stayed in my mouth.

  “Ethan,” I began, in the living once again, “this is my father, Tom Shelby.”

  Give the boy an A for manners. He held out his hand and said, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Shelby.” He gave my Dad a firm handshake.

  “You too, Ethan,” he said sternly. “I just have one question.” Dad had his own form of dramatics while we waited with baited breath for his words. “What are your intentions towards my daughter?”

  Looking back, I wish I would have caught Ethan’s expression. Instead, I had my face in my own hands saying, “Dad, he’s just a friend. I’m friends with his girlfriend.”

  “Oh,” Dad said, quickly, his voice loosing that edge. “Well, what do you two have planned for tonight?”

  Not wanting Ethan to be put on the spot, I said, “Dad, I told you that Ethan was going to show me how to develop film.” Crap, that reminded me. I’d left my camera upstairs.

  “I forgot something,” I said, giving Ethan an apologetic look.

  Turning, my Dad said, “So where do you live?” I found myself taking the stairs two at a time and running like a cross-country runner to get my camera and get back downstairs before my Dad asked for a blood sample.

  I was back in under a minute, but upon my return I found my Dad and Ethan laughing. I wanted to wipe sweat from my brow for dodging the bullet, but thankfully I wasn’t yet sweating. Running a couple miles every day had me in serious shape.

  “I’m ready,” I announced. But then Jenna made her way downstairs. Turning back to Ethan, I saw the starry-eyed look all boys got when looking at my sister. She wasn’t Allie, but she was beautiful.

  “So, you must be Ethan,” she said, appraising him.

  “Yeah,” he said. A smirk formed on his face, and he looked at me. I didn’t have time to look away before he caught the fact that I‘d been watching for his reaction to my sister. Smiling, I reminded myself there was nothing to be jealous about. Ethan wasn’t mine.

  “I’m Jenna,” she said, giving him a little wave.

  “Ethan,” he said confidently, the smirk still there. My Dad took that time to tell Ethan to have me home by midnight. My sister fidgeted, bringing my attention back to her. She mouthed, OMG, when Ethan’s back was turned I merely rolled my eyes in turn.

  Once we were finally outside, I looked around for Ethan’s car but saw none. “Did you park down the street?” I asked.

  “Nope,” he said, tilting his head toward a killing machine.

  In front of me was freaking motorcycle. Everyone knows that TV and books glorify the death trap on wheels, but I didn’t relish it. Dad would have a heart attack if he saw it. So I leaped towards the machine like I really wanted to ride.

  “We should go then,” I said a little too quickly.

  It was classic black with shiny chrome, and I had to admit it was a bit sexy. Ethan strapped on a helmet to my head, and I had to mentally count to 100 so I could breathe with him so close.

  He got on and said, “Hop on.”

  “What about your helmet?” I asked.

  “You’re wearing it,” he said.

  “But,” I responded.

  “It’s cool. It’s not that long of a drive, and I don’t plan on wrecking.”

  Shaking my head, I hesitated. My brain had caught up with my fear. “I don’t know,” I said, painfully.

  Turning and dragging me closer to the bike, he said, “Jess, I won’t ever let you fall.” His words sent unwanted shivers through me.

  Then I was riding down the streets of my neighborhood, with my arms wrapped around him. My camera was strapped around my neck, wedged on the side of my body. My arms were tightened around his midsection when we took a turn. My head rested on his back out of fear. It was like a waking dream because there no way was this happening.

  Chapter Eight

  When we slowed down long enough for me to see the front of a monstrosity of a house, I wanted to pinch myself. Obviously, I was still dreaming. This house—no, a better term was estate—sat perched far from the street with an expansive lawn that looked freshly cut. In fact, I could smell the lawn like it was a paper air freshener pressed to my nose.

  The estate was built with large gray stones and looked like it was three stories high. Turning, we followed the long driveway up to an open garage at the side where Ethan pulled to a stop. My house had a garage large enough for two cars. This garage had at least enough room for four, if not more.

  Holding his hand out, I took the hint and got off using his arm for support.

  My mouth must have been agape, because he stood before me now and said, “It’s a bit much, huh?”

  Trying to wrap my mind around the fact that Ethan was loaded, I nodded. “You’re just lucky,” I said, weakly.

  “Definitely not,” he muttered and led me up a short flight of stairs and into the immense house.

  Not sure what I expected, maybe that the inside would be as dazzling as the outside. What I got was a hollow feeling. Even with rubber-soled shoes, it felt like our footsteps echoed along the long hallway. Nothing was on the walls. Each room we passed seemed just as devoid of anything that would suggest someone even lived in this house

  Ethan stopped and gestured me inside a room. It was large, just like the rest seemed, but this one had a sofa and large screen TV.

  We sat on the sofa. With nothing else to say and knowing something needed to be said, I uttered, “So where did everyone go?” I added a nervous laugh by mistake.

  “The rest is in California with my Mom,” he said. “Do you want something to drink?”

  His question was probably meant to cut off my line of questioning, but no one could say that I was thinking rationally. “Are you moving?” I asked. His words sent panic through me even though I didn’t know this guy. I could only hope he hadn’t caught the alarm in my voice.

  “No,” he said. “I’m finishing my school year here, then it’s off to college.” He spoke matter-of-factly.

  “So your Mom just left you here all alone. How do you eat? Laundry?” I asked, feeling a self-righteous indignation on his behalf.

  Arching an eyebrow, he said, “My Mom leaving was probably for the best.” Feeling like a blameless protestor with a cause, I wondered how long had he been living this way? Were there child safety laws about this? But he was probably seventeen or eighteen, so I doubted they applied. “As for the rest, I can take care of myself.”

  Since he didn’t really answer me, I left it alone. It wasn’t my business anyway. My silence while I processed his information gave him the opportunity to change the subject. “Have you finished the roll of film?”

  I’d only halfway finished taking pictures. Feeling like a fraud, I didn’t admit that I’d come under false pretenses. But then again, he had talked me into coming over.

  Holding out his hand, he said slyly, “Hand it over, Blondie.”

  Knowing the jig was up, I swept the thick collar of the strap over my head and slowly handed him what now felt like my most prized possession.

  Standing up, he walked a few steps away, taking close inspection of the ancient relic that was my Dad’s camera. “Fair is fair,” he said, giving me my only warning.

  Then without further ado, the camera was pointed at me. I couldn’t help the smile that crept over my face before I could g
et my hand up to block his shot. Click. I heard the shutter capture me. My hand now firmly in front of my face, he ducked down faster than a guy as tall as he should.

  Click. The camera went again, and he’d gotten what I thought must be a shot up my nose. Twisting the lens, he was changing the shot, regardless of what I did to try to hide myself. “You shouldn’t hide. It’s just you and me.” That wasn’t a reminder that I needed. One thing I was sure of was that we were alone. “Let me take your picture,” he said, his voice going low and turning my insides to mush.

  Remembering Madison’s advice just to have fun, I couldn’t help but laugh and gave into the moment. Click. I threw my head back like life was a complete loss for me. Click. My forearm was planted to my forehead. Click. “Yes, Miss Scarlett,” Ethan said. That caught me off guard. What guy knew about Gone with the Wind. “How do you know about that movie?”

  The shutter stopped, and he pulled away from behind the lens. “My Mom was a big film buff. She used to make Dad and me watch old black-and-white movies on her birthday and Mother’s Day.”

  Feeling like I’d again stepped on eggshells I didn’t see lying in the room, I went for something safe. I started pantomiming a frightened girl. He laughed wholeheartedly, and I felt better. The mood was lightened. “Slasher girl, are you now?”

  On the edge of my seat, (click) I leaped up and began walking the room twirling (click) and changing direction. Click. My legs were like staccatos on the floor, sharp and precise. Click. Click. Click. “Project Runway,” he said. “You’re a natural.”

  For a moment, I thought, does that mean he thinks I’m pretty? Click. But I pushed that thought away. Click. Talking, even though I continued my model impersonation, I said, “And how do you know that show?” Click.

  “Allie likes it.”

  “Sounds to me like women rule your life.” Oops, I hadn’t just said that. I stopped what I was doing, feeling like I stuck my foot in mouth.

  Being a trooper, he dropped his hands. “When it benefits me,” he said, his eyes half closed, appraising me.