what comes to light (+18)

2

Shepherd's last period is art class. It's not his favourite, but it is an elective that requires minimal mental effort on his part.

L'amour poses, showing Shepherd every side of her as he attempts to draw her portrait true to life. "Which way do you think I should face?" she says.

"L'amour, don't be ridiculous. Every angle is your best angle," he says in an exaggerated tone. There was nothing wrong with being facetious towards facetious questions.

She rolls her eyes. "Of course, you would say that." She messes up her auburn bob, baring her teeth like a vampire. "What about now? Am I still at my best?"

He feigns reverence. "Marvelous."

She laughs. Her studied diamond earrings twinkling.

Their teacher draws near, intrigued by the commotion. "Good job, Shepherd," he says, analyzing his sketch of L'amour.

As their teacher yammers about body dimensions and shading, his cousin Elise stares at them from across the room. Another reason why he hates art class is that he has to suffer it with freshmen. Besides him, L'amour is the only other senior in this class. And Shepherd, he's the only other person in their friend group L'amour suckered into taking the class with her.

"We got ourselves an artist in the making," L'amour says, moving from her post to take a look at the portrait.

"I aim to excel."

She rips the drawing from his notebook. Lifting the sheet to the fluorescent lights, she examines every detail of her rendering. Her guffaw is the only sign she's concluded her examination. He can tell she's satisfied with the drawing. " Ok, get up. My turn," she says.

Elise makes her way to their corner, leaving behind a quite perturbed muse. Curiosity usually triumphed over the better half of her. It was also like this when they were younger. She'd cling to him during holidays when the Westminster family got together. She always looked to him to provide solace when their relatives ignored her. They were the two only Black kids in a homogenously white family tree. Her supposed family consisted of people who didn't look like her or could never understand her; he couldn't fault her for feeling lonely. But this was high school, not Christmas in Colorado. She had to grow up at some point.

"Sheppie, Devon said you're driving me home after school," she says, eyeing the portrait of him behind L'amour's shoulder.

L'amour snorts at the childhood nickname. Shepherd hopes Elise doesn't call him that horrendous moniker around Issac or Trevanté. He wouldn't hear the end of their jokes.

"I am?" he teases.

Elise doesn't have the same wit as L'amour, so she gnaws at a manicured fingernail instead, unsure of what to say.

"Yes, I'm driving you home today," he says, breaking Elise free from her self-induced anxiety. "I have football practice after school. You'll have to wait till I'm done."

The last bell of the day rings, ceasing further conversation between them. Elise pouts, not too happy about waiting for him after practice. Well, she can take that up with her parents, he thinks.

"I can keep you company," L'amours says, packing up her things.

Elise beams, her full lips revealing perfect white teeth. "Thank you."

The girls start rambling as they tail Shepherd. He leaves them behind when he enters the changing room. Finding himself in another barrage of boisterous conversation from his teammates.

Issac is all but naked except for the cup that encases his dick, entertaining the team like he's their self-appointed court jester. Issac regals his teammates with his latest conquest. He gyrates his hips, visually showing everyone his sexual aptitude. The thrusting is pathetic, but his teammates howl in enthusiasm. They encourage him further.

"Two of them?" one of their teammates says.

"Twins," Issac says. "College girls."

Everyone 'ohhed' and 'ahhed.'

"You're lying," their friend Trevanté says.

Issac jumps off the changing room bench, finally putting on his training uniform. "I don't need to lie. Y'all know my track record."

"Yeah, it's a lousy one," another teammate yells.

No longer placating Issac, they laugh at him. By how Issac is scrunching up his face real hard, Shepherd can tell he isn't too happy about the results of his presentation. He didn't gain the respect he desired from his teammates.

"Guys, let's get serious here," Shepherd says, weaning the attention off Issac. "We have a big game next week."

His word is law to these boys. Therefore, most of the conversation becomes hushed, and soon, the crowd dwindles out, heading towards the stadium.

"Your cousin waiting on you today?" Trevanté says.

"She is," Issac says. "Saw her out there with L'amour."

"Need me some of that," Trevanté says.

"Me first," Issac says.

Gross.

Shepherd lets his silence speak for itself.

Early in the evening, the stadium's blaring lights block out most of the bleachers. He predicts that L'amour and Elise will be sitting in the bleachers. He imagines L'amour on her phone texting a friend, and Elise, probably thoughtless, is watching Shepherd complete his warmup.

Elise's hair is always perfectly silk-pressed into long, voluminous waves. Hickory skin blemish-free. Wardrobe dry-cleaned once a week; she's never worn something with a stain. She is nothing but a pretty little doll that his aunt gets to dress up for pageants and sometimes pretend to mother. She's so tightly wound up. He doubts she'd ever give anyone at their private school a chance.

They run a team drill.

He's the quarterback for today's practice. Shepherd's coach encouraged him to put his bid in for the quarterback position this football season. Though Shepherd could care less about football and its stupid hierarchies, he does desire the local fame the position could draw.

Shepherd stands in front of his coach. Two passers line up two yards behind Shepherd. Trevanté, Issac and two other team members are his wide receivers, standing just four yards away. He takes a five-step drop. Then, the passers attempt to rush him. He dodges a passer. Quick feet slide against cut grass, but it doesn't slow him down. When he plants his feet, another passer jumps for him. He sidesteps them and risks a throw at Issac. Sure enough, Issac catches the football, just like Shepherd knew he would.

He hears the faint sound of clapping from the bleachers.

Panting, a smile comes to his face.

He loves to win.