Photograph

Cleo Harris knew she was different. She first knew at her uncle's wedding. She had seen a white boy outside. He was running away from something. He tripped and she became worried. But, he got up again and started to run. Loud shouts were called after him and three large black men that she recognized. Two of her other uncles and her daddy. After everything had settled back into place, she could hear the birds tweeting and she could feel the soft breeze blow her hot combed hair.

She looks to the ground, her eyes lighter than before for some reason, and she doesn't miss the small blood trail she saw.

>~>~>~>~>~>

Now, it's 2068. Cleo Harris is now a young, 17 year old girl with high opportunities and a low tolerance for pictures. Of herself that is. She loves taking pictures of other things, though. Beautiful things.

Jasper Sheeran gets what he wants. He never asks for it, but that's how it is when your father used to be a famous singer. Jasper doesn't like many things. Or people. He usually tolerates. He smokes and punches guys in the face. But that's the life right? Bad boy style. Jasper doesn't like labels, but he'll tolerate that one.

But the thing is, Jasper doesn't know he is. He worries about three things, and three things only. Money. Friends. And himself. He has no kin. His friends are his family. People think that when he is drinking and partying that he is being himself, but he's not. He knows that he's not.

She learns that he's not.

He drops the facade.

He starts to visit her more, and she doesn't mind.

They get together and stay together all night. Her cackles and snorts, and his infectious laughter filling her empty house.

He learns to appreciate things. Things that are special to the world, like Cleo.

Things that make him laugh and smile and feel light. Things. People. People like Cleo.

Will their sides allow it though? Will Jasper's friends? Will Cleo's grandfather and mother? Will anyone?