Through The Lens (9 page)

“Oh, Jessa, you can
look.  I’ve long ago lost shame when it comes to getting dressed in front of
people I don’t know.  In the business, I’m constantly changing with people
walking in and out.  A lot of them I don’t know.  As long as you don’t take
pictures,” she teased. “It's really fine.”

The reference to my
brother and his amateur photo-taking skills had me groan.  I risked a glance
her way when she’d downed an outfit.  It actually ended up turning out to be pretty
fun.  She asked my opinion and agreed with a lot of my feelings before settling
on a pink silk dress that looked like it was molded just for her.

She stayed dressed and,
after giving me a wink, proceeded to tell the main woman helping us that my
dress was in a garment bag in her trunk.  Not ten minutes later, I had that and
my shoes. After I was dressed and ready to go, Allie exchanged A few more words
and we were on our way.

In a ballroom in a
fancy hotel, with multiple well place chandeliers hanging above us, we sat near
the front in a table of twelve.  The tables were covered in pristine white
linens.  The chairs decorated with bows on the back.  The center pieces at each
table held fresh flowers I found out once I sat and got a strong whiff of the
orchids at ours.  The ladies’ tea could have been boring without Allie.  She
still managed to whisper, stuck to me as we people-watched and speculated on
the lives of those around us.

“I bet she’s never
worked hard a day in her life,” Allie said softly, about a woman in a blue silk
dress.  The pointy nose of the woman could have put an eye out.  I giggled
softly while a different course was placed in front of us.  “The only water
those hands have seen are from a manicure bowl,” she continued on.

Nothing she said was in
a mean way.  It was a bit of fun at how stuffy the room seemed.  And again, I
was struck at how easy I was becoming friends with her.

 With no word of
warning, after we were served lunch and tea, Allie got up and spoke when
prompted. Apparently, this was on the agenda because I glanced down at it after
I was alone for the first time today.  Once she started speaking, I was
captivated.  She managed to be what my mom would have dubbed “poised and
polished” as if none of our earlier goofing around happened.  She spoke about
the charity we’d all gathered for.  Her passion seemed real, and I could
believe her.  Helping the disadvantaged was certainly something I believed in,
too.

Afterward, Allie spent
a short time signing autographs for the younger members of the crowd. Standing
back, I watched her graciously give young girls a real thrill with her warmth,
smile, and Sharpie of all things.  I had to laugh thinking back to my brother.

A ride back to my house
went fast.  Our in car karaoke was going to be our thing, I thought. “This was
so much fun,” she said, turning off the car. “I haven’t had this much fun in a
while.”

“Really,” I said,
quickly.  To me, it seemed like her life would be crazy fun in Hollywood and
all.

“Yes,” she said.  Her
face sobered as she thought about something that made her sad. “I haven’t had
this much fun since Carly.”  Perplexed at who Carly was, I stayed silent,
hoping she would elaborate.  Looking at me instead of the faraway place she’d
gone, with a grimace she said, “Carly was my best friend.  She and Ethan were
an item before she disappeared.”

I gave her a half-owl
look with widened eyes and parted mouth, but not quite the circle as if I was
saying who.  The fact that this Carly disappeared was a part of my
astonishment.  The other was that she’d been Ethan’s girlfriend, and now he was
dating his former girl friend’s best friend.  I wasn’t certain how that sat
with me.  Allie seemed nice enough, but she also didn’t seem to approve of
relationship between Ethan and Carly.  And now involved with him despite the
fact that she hadn’t said Carly was dead, but missing.

I was still mulling
that over as I fell asleep for the night, wondering if I should still hang out
with Ethan in the morning. I mean if he was the type of guy who would date the friend
of his girlfriend and then to flirt with me. No, he was not flirting with me. I
couldn't let myself hope that he was possibly interested. Because one, his
girlfriend and this Carly and second, there was no way he could be interested
in
me
. Right?

Because it was still summer break,
Monday rolled in without so much as an alarm.  I rose to the sunlight at the
will of my own body in getting enough rest.  I felt surprisingly good and
quickly dressed for my morning run. 

It had been days since
I hit the blacktop.  Running woke my body in the way that sunlight did not.  My
heart raced, and I felt more alive with each step.  Running had been hard in
the beginning.  I hadn’t been able to take two steps before I was gasping for
breath.  Now, it was easy.  My goal was not to run a marathon, so I didn’t have
limits.  I ran as far as I felt like it, and the hard part came when I pushed
myself to make it back.

The burn and the sweat
came on that return, and after a shower, I felt better.  Yesterday, I hadn’t
eaten very healthy.  The food at the tea was great, but not knowing how it was
prepared, I was sure it contained all the bad things because tasted oh so
good.  I didn’t beat myself over it though.  That was the fine line of diet and
exercise I tried not cross.  I would eat healthier today, and with continued
exercise, I wouldn’t worry about what the scale said.

Getting dressed
casually in shorts and a tee, I headed downstairs for some fruit and whole
grain toast.  I found Jenna in the kitchen, which was a surprise.  “What are
you doing home?” I asked.

“Morning practice was canceled,”
she said, eating half of an English bagel, covered in Mom’s alternative to
butter and then real honey on top.  For a second, I hated that somehow she’d
gotten the skinny genes and I didn’t.  But I let it pass.  It wasn’t her fault
how the dice had fallen.

“Can I use the car?” I
asked.

She stopped in mid
bite, so I could tell she hadn’t been expecting that. “I have afternoon
practice.”

“I could drop you off,”
I added, sweetening the deal.  Really, I never used
our
car, so this
shouldn’t be a question.

“I don’t know when
practice might be over, and having you wait for a call seems like putting you
out.  Why don’t I drop you off wherever you need to go?”

Actually, I didn’t have
to have the car today.  Ethan could pick me up.  But I wanted to plant the
seed.  This was a new year, and my life was changing.  I had every right to the
car that Jenna did.  “It’s my car, too, and I need to use it.”

Jenna didn’t protest. 
She knew that she’d had a free year with the car without a peep from me.
“Okay,” she said, giving in

With A text and a
reply, I soon found myself on Ethan’s doorstep with my finger on the button
that would announce my arrival. It didn’t take long before the door was opened
and I was ushered inside after a wave to my sister.

“Are you hungry?” he
asked, leaving me to close the door.  I followed him into the kitchen.  He was
forever trying to feed me, just like Bradley’s mom. But he was Ethan, a boy. A
very nice looking one at that.  Should I feel self-conscious that he thinks
because I’m not thin that I like to eat?

“No, not really,” I
said, watching his butt with a much unsuccessful effort at detachment. 

He slid into his seat
where a plate of round waffles sat pooled in butter and syrup.  The smell was
divine.  “You know that stuff is bad for you,” I said.

Looking at me, his fork
speared on a bite of waffle with syrup slowly dripping from it, he said, “What
are you going to cook for me?”  It was a challenge.  The look of disbelief on
his face made me want to prove him wrong.

“Maybe,” I said, in
challenge. “I’m not a bad cook.  My Mom owns a bistro in town.”

“Really,” he said
around a mouthful of food.

Nodding, I sat and let
him eat.  I couldn’t begrudge him his eating habits.  He was on his own,
abandoned by his mother and left to his own devices.  With nothing to look at,
surrounded by bare walls, and not wanting to watch him eat, I pulled out my
phone and played some games on it.  I even texted Madison to see how she was. 
We were in mid-conversation when I realized he had been done.

“Ready,” he said when
I'd caught him staring at me.

Startled, I said,
“Sure.”  And I quickly replied to Madison that I would talk to her later.  I
wasn’t exactly sure of what I was ready for especially because I was doing my
best to block any thoughts of Ethan from my mind that weren’t appropriate.

Following him back a
familiar path, we ended up in the “darkroom”.  Of course, all lights were on,
and I was shocked by what I saw.  Hanging from the clothesline were several
pictures of me.  My jaw, loose from being surprised to see myself, didn’t allow
me to interpret the noise I heard in the background. Click.

Each picture showed me
in a different light.  My attempt at charades with my crazy impression seemed
pure and honest. Click. I paused at one where my hair looked like it was
spinning in the air as he caught me mid twirl.  Click. His pictures of me made
me look almost beautiful. Click.  Once I finished looking at the last one, I
turned to him to see my camera aimed at me. Click.

Sighing, I put a hand
up and out, and he lowered his arms to look at me.  “What is all this?” I
asked, unsure how I felt about seeing only pictures he’d taken of me hanging
from the clips.

Letting the camera fall
to hang by the strap around his neck, he reached over and handed me a stack of
more 8-by-11 pictures. He hadn’t spoken.  My attention, however, was now
riveted to what lay in my hand.  Looking at each one, I was brought back to the
moment I’d snapped the shot.  I had no idea what I was doing, but I’d caught
some great pictures.  The guys playing football, the crying kid over the
spilled ice cream, and Ethan.  I paused.

The first picture he
hadn’t known I’d been looking.  His expression was haunted, looking out into
the space in front of him.  The second, he was on to me.  His mouth was quirked
in a half -smile amused at me.  In the third and final one, he was all too
close, making that first contact with me.  Looking at it, it seemed like so
long ago. 

Moving on, the picture
leaped from my hand with the flight of the butterflies we’d disturbed.  I was
in awe of all the different colors, and how I’d taken such an amazing shot.

“You have a good eye,”
he said, sounding serious.

Looking up at him, I
said, “I can’t believe I did this.”

“You’re a natural,” he
said, I waited for the punch line, but there wasn’t any.

I finished with the
pictures and looked up at him.  “So why are those hanging there?”

Grinning, he said, “I’m
hanging them out to dry.” Rolling my eyes, he added, “Let’s head out back while
we wait?”

“Sure,” I said, but he
was already making a path out the door.

Stopping, he grabbed
two bottles of water before we made our way out to the deck.  When I started to
grab a chair, he kept moving.  We headed out further and ended up in two lounge
chairs by his pool. 

“When you finish the roll,”
he said, handing me the camera, “We can start your first lesson in developing.”

Taking it, I looped it
over my head and aimed it like him.  Putting up a hand, I said not taking my
eyes from the viewfinder, “So you don’t like it when it’s pointing at you.”

Giving me a look that
said he knew just how much the camera loved him, he smiled, and I took
advantage.  After a few more clicks, he stood and pulled his shirt over his
head, giving me a smug look. “Might as well get the whole deal,” he said too
dangerously for my taste.  Was he flirting with me? The danger of hope started
to overwhelm but then guilt steps in. Allie's boyfriend, I remind myself.

That stood as a
reminder of what Allie told me.  He was now dating his missing girlfriend’s
best friend.  Did that make him a insensitive jerk?  Still, here I was actually
enjoying his company.  What did that make me?

Putting the camera
down, I wouldn’t give his ego any more ammunition.  It was bad enough I was
impressed with his chiseled torso.  His body was the perfect example of the
male specimen.  And he didn’t need to know how much I thought so.

“Want to go for a
swim?” he asked, letting his sweatpants fall to his feet. I think my heart
dropped out of my chest.  I hadn’t expected him to do that.  Shocked, I closed
my eyes.  What was I, a kid?  I opened them, but I didn’t focus on him for a
second.  My eye instead caught a flash of fabric as he kicked the offending
garment to the side, and something else caught my attention.

Pointing, sounding
horrified I asked, “What is that?” even though I was sure I knew what it was.

Looking down, he sat,
quickly scrubbing his hands on his face. “Shit, I forgot about that,” he said,
more to himself and sitting back down. “I’ve lived with it so long, I hardly
remember its there.”

Saying nothing, I
waited for him to continue.  My mind raced in the meantime.  The LoJack type
device around his ankle said many things, and none were good.  First it said
he’d committed a crime and had been found guilty.  Second said, it suggested he
was dangerous enough that the police felt the need to monitor his movements by
GPS courtesy of the irremovable device around his ankle. Third, he was
dangerous. Silently, I thanked the heavens, I’d driven myself over here.