The Photographs

Chapter 4

"Well, I think its time for a little break everyone. There are some snacks and drinks at the table over there.", the woman who led the group says. "Feel free to leave whenever." We all sit up except for me, I planned on waiting until there were only a couple people left to go and get some food from the table. I go to pull my phone out of my pocket when I hear someone say, "Hey, would you mind if I sit down next to you?". I finish taking my phone out of my pocket to set it down in my lap and look up. A boy, probably no older than 17 is looking right at me, waiting for me to respond. He has brown hair, cut to halfway down his neck. I look down and he's got on a blue and gray flannel, blue jeans, and a pair of black converse, the shoe laces frayed a little here and there.

I look back down to my phone and unlock it, saying to him, "Sure, I don't mind." So he sits, adjusting the cushion on the plastic chair. "I hope its nothing too personal to say this, but I really enjoyed your story. It spoke to me in such a way I just couldn't get enough of it". I look up to him, his eyes locking on mine. The blue is hypnotizing, with gold specks scattered around. Its like an infinite pool of wonder, I think to myself. "Well I'm glad you liked it, although its pretty much like everyone else's", I tell him. He's still looking into my eyes when he says, "Yeah, except for one thing".

I look down to my phone and pull up my messages, clicking my moms and getting ready to type that I'm ok. "And what's that?", I ask him. He looks down to my sleeves and says, "You have a getaway. No one else can seem to find one or just doesn't want to try. You're like me."

I stop typing to look up at him, his eyes wandering from the sleeves of my shirt back to my eyes, locking on them with such intensity my hands start to fidget in my lap. We sit there for a moment, no words being spoken when all of a sudden now his attitude has changed. "You said you take pictures?" he asks me, but no response comes from my mouth. I'm still looking into his eyes, the blue pool pulling me deeper in. "Can I see?", and he grabs my hand, holding tight onto it. I look down to see our hands laced together, wondering to myself, What is he getting at here? "Sure, of course", I tell him. "I'm glad someone's interested in them."

I pull my camera out of my bag, and turn it on, clicking the gallery button. I hand the silver digital camera to him and look away, still feeling his eyes on the back of my head. My heart starts to speed up and my hands begin to shake. I pull my hand away from his, and type the rest of the response to my mother. "Can I ask a question?", I hear him say to me. Before I can respond, he asks, "What is the meaning of this particular picture?"

I look over to see what picture he has displayed on the screen of my camera. I'm shocked, forgetting all about this picture I took a couple of weeks ago. Its my bathroom, recognizing it from the white tiles of the floor and the cracks in the wall. I'm standing in it, the background blurred and the focus setting on me. My arms are at my sides, and I'm looking at the mirror. Its a side view, but you can see that I have one sleeve of my blue sweater pulled up, and the other one down. "Well, its supposed to show that even though I'm scared of them being seen, I'm accepting that it happened and they are there.", I tell him.

He looks up from the picture and turns to me, handing the camera back. He understood every word. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he says, "Its beautiful." He stands up, taking one hand out of his pocket and taking my hand to interlace our fingers together. I stand up as well, telling him, "I think I'm going to head home". "Fair enough," he says. "I'm sure I've weirded you out too much, my apologies". I take my hand from his, taking the piece of paper he had hidden between our hands that I failed to notice until now as well. I put my phone in my back pocket and my camera in my bag, then zip it up and place the strap of my bag on my shoulder. I walk towards the door, stopping when I hear, "Olivia?". I turn around to face him, looking down at the floor. "See you next Sunday.", he says. I hesitate, but then pull out enough courage to say "Yeah." I turn back to the door, taking hold of the cold, metal doorknob and turning it.

I shut the door quickly behind me, my hand still on the metal knob when I finally relax a little. My breathing is making me feel a little dizzy. Everything is ok, I think to myself, as I push the strap of my bag further onto my shoulder and start walking down the wooden stairs, picking up speed when I hit the bottom steps. I make a run for the door, my sneakers pounding loudly with every step. Before I know it I'm out the green door and running towards home, sneakers slamming on the pavement as I quickly lose sight of the brick building.