Picture Us

Chapter 3: Keefe

The Photography building was straight out of a medieval fantasy novel. Spiral staircases climbed the sandstone towers, and the walls were rough to touch. Keefe tore through the halls, textbooks in hand and hair flying through the wind. He wasn't going to be late, but he'd missed his chance to be early. It wasn't his fault, of course. He simply wasn't to blame that styling hair took an obnoxiously large about of time. Even his usual dishevelled style, which he often paired with a winning smirk, took at least half an hour in front of the mirror, and prep time the night before.

He rushed through the doors of his classroom, heart jumping out of his chest. He was one minute before time. Professor Tiergan was his usual sophisticated self, with his well pressed black suit and a dash of colour from his tie, which today was striped, red and blue. He smiled at Keefe as he walked in, but his happy demeanour was quickly lost when Fitz Vacker walked in.

The Vacker-Tiergan rivalry was a well-known one to everyone. What exactly happened in the falling out was a mystery to anyone who wasn't a Vacker or Tiergan. The only thing people knew was that it had something to do with the Endal family, who's only child, Wylie Endal, was close to graduating.

He took his seat in the second bench from the front. The perfect place for people to admire his good looks, and to seem like a smart student. But next to him, in all his black clothing and silver jewellery was Tam Song.

Tam Song was a stuck up, moody, hormonal piece of shit. He was there Keefe's every minor class, leaning back on the bench, glaring at Keefe with his silver-blue eyes, and probably thinking about how hot he was. But of course, like the annoying person Tam was, he never let Keefe know of his good looks.

And of course, Tam Song just had to be good at academics, because the universe wouldn't let Keefe live life happily, it seemed. Keefe and him strived for the A+, the top score, the winning marks, every single time. So, they formed an unspoken rivalry.

"I'm very pleased to give out your test results. Please check your laptops. They will be online." Tiergan said. As soon as the words left his mouth, Keefe's hands flew to the laptop and entered the website.

98%

That was good, right? 100% was impossible anyway, especially in Photography. Everyone knew that. Still, he hunched in front of his screen, so no one saw his score. He turned his head toward Tam Song, who sat smirking, with a proud 100% displayed on his screen. He didn't even try to hide it. Dipshit.

"You've done wonderfully on this assessment" Tiergan started, voice bouncing against the walls. "But your next one will be a big portion of your grade. You will be assigned in partners, and if photography is your major, you'll the photographer and your partner will be the subject. This is worth 90% of your entire grade, so take your time with it." Tiergan warned. "I will now read out the groups."

He read out name after name. Marella and Linh, Fitz and Dex, and finally, Keefe's name was called out.

With Tam Song.

They both glared at each other, Keefe's ice blue eyes finally living up to their name. No way was Tam Song going to be partnered with him for the majority of his grade. This couldn't be real.

But Tiergan wasn't joking, and in his emails was the rest of the details to the task. Great. This was official now. Keefe grumbled, scooting closer to Tam. He hated it, of course.

"So, Tammy, I guess we're partners now." Keefe laughed. "We need a team name. And you need a haircut. Dude, what is that on your head? Because it sure doesn't qualify for hair."

"Keefe Sencen," he said. The name was crisp on the tongue, as he highlighted every syllable. "We're only partnering up for a project. I'm only doing this for the grade. We do not need a team name because, we. Are. Not. A. Team. Understand?

"You didn't deny the hair comment." Keefe pointed out. Tam shot him a glare that could pierce flesh.

"My hair is much better than yours. I mean, look at yours. Are you trying for the homeless look or the pretentious one? Pick a struggle."

"The only struggle I have is dealing with you. You, on the hand, have a struggle that is your face. Dude, I think you get less sleep than I do, and I drink coffee like water." Keefe took a deep breath. "But whatever. I want a good grade; you want a good grade. Let's make magic happen."

They began planning the photos, which was, admittedly, mostly Tam. Keefe had to give him credit, he was good at planning. He kept all his subjects in neat folders on his laptop, and organised them by subject, then semester. He opened a new document and typed furiously, fingers banging against the keyboard.

Keefe opened his own laptop, and absentmindedly checked his emails. Which was why he was confused to see a word document shared by Tam Song in his emails. He looked up at Tam, confusion written on his face. Tam rolled his eyes.

"You didn't think I was going to let you make me do this all on my own, did you?" He snorted. "Add something, Keefe. Put those big brains to the test."

Keefe grumbled, but Tam was right. He was obligated to offer up some of his skill. And since it was going toward his grade, it was worth it. So, he typed away, adding onto Tam's photography plan. He looked through the assignment, which entailed them to take sixty pictures within a three-month period and justify each and every one, completed with two reflections, a shared one and an individual one. He was exhausted just thinking of it.

The class ended and Keefe packed up his things quickly and exited the lecture hall, just happy to be away from Tam. He slowly walked into his dorm room, and when he opened the door, he saw Tam Song, who had somehow gotten there first, lugging in a mattress. Both glared icily at each other.

"What the hell?" They said at the same time, only causing them to glower more.

"What are you doing here?" Keefe asked.

"I could ask you the same." Tam retorted.

"This is my room." Keefe said, hands on his hips.

"It's mine." Tam scowled.

"No, it's not!" Keefe ran his hands through his hair, which he instantly regretted. "Let's go to the administration, they'll tell you I'm right."

"Gladly."

Keefe and Tam walked down to the administration, trying to ignore the angry silence that spaced them. Keefe occasionally glanced at Tam, who was fuming silently. They reached the administration and poured out their story. The lady at the front desk typinng rapidly on her computer.

"It says here you're sharing rooms." She said, pushing her glasses on her face.

"What?!" Keefe and Tam stared at each other with petulance.

"That's what it says on the system." The lady clarified. "And we have a pretty good system."

Just then, Keefe felt a ding from his pocket. He took his phone out and clicked on the message from the unknown number.

I'm your father, Keefe. Blocking me isn't that simple. And now you can learn to work a bit for your life. And share a room for someone else for once. Learn something, for once in your life, Keefe. For your sake. - Your father, Cassius Sencen

Keefe gripped phone phone so tight he was going to smash it. Tam must have noticed his anger by the slight eyebrow raise but didn't say a word.

"We're roommates." He said through gritted teeth. "Can confirm."

"Great," he said sarcastically.

An awkward bout of silence stretched before the lady said. "I'm glad that's all sorted out. Enjoy being roommates."

This was going to be an interesting year.