Through the Lens

7

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 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 that'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 losing 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 a 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.