Pictures of You

Chapter 17

17

Evie

All friends have an origin story. I suspect for Drew Kennedy and me, it will be rescuing him from the formal date fiasco.

I don’t even really know what compelled me to do it. Every conscious thought was saying Oliver , and then I saw a flicker of dejection in Drew’s eyes and instinct took over. He looked haunted. I had an overwhelming sense, right that second, that this couldn’t go wrong for him. That it would be too many wrongs for him.

We’re practicing manual focus and I’m working with the late-afternoon sunlight as it streams through an archway when Drew catches up to me. I might not know much about photography, but I do seem to have a natural eye for light. The softness here contrasts with the sharp lines and angles of the red-brick architecture.

“Let me explain.” He still looks tormented, which adds to the whole Heathcliff vibe. Not the villainous, vengeful, revenge-fueled stuff—just the untamed moodiness and unpredictability.

“It’s fine,” I tell him. I’m not sure that it is actually fine, but I’m committed now.

“You don’t have to do this,” he says. “It was a conversation with Alicia that got out of control. I never actually said I was going with you. I just … looked in your direction.”

He’s so sincere. Giving me an out, despite the embarrassment it would cause him. Behind the weariness in his eyes, there’s something intriguingly dark.

“We’ll go as friends,” I tell him, to make it clear. “Think of it as a thank-you for making the exhibition happen.”

He shrugs, like that’s nothing, but I suspect life was complex enough before my bright idea added to his load. “They need shaking up,” he says, with a nod toward the bulk of the group, messing around across the quad.

I focus my camera on a nearby magnolia and launch into my disastrous formal backstory. “I went to the Year Ten formal with my friend’s brother, who I’d never met, and it was so awkward we barely spoke all night. To be fair, this guy’s mother forced him to go with me because he spent too much time playing Call of Duty . She was worried he’d become completely nocturnal and celibate—while living at home until he was forty.”

When I look from my viewfinder back at Drew, he seems slightly stunned.

Too much information? I always talk a lot when I’m nervous. I don’t know why I’m nervous with Drew when it’s Oliver who actually freaks me out. I’m keenly aware of where he is, in the group across the quad.

“I missed our Year Ten formal altogether,” Drew says, saving me from myself. I’m about to ask why, but he follows my line of sight and says, “You sure you wouldn’t rather go with someone else?”

Is he already pulling out of the formal he invited himself to? Truth be told, the whole idea of going with Oliver absolutely thrills me. But it’s also terrifying. Drew seems safe—around Oliver I feel like I’m likely to lose control and my entire mind .

“I’m thinking of doing some astrophotography on Saturday night,” Drew says, and I realize I didn’t answer his question. “Maybe you could come?”

Join a boy from the notorious St. Dom’s in the dark, on my own, five seconds after we’ve met?

“Sorry,” he says. “Of course it would be weird …”

It actually wouldn’t be all that weird—I used to tag along when Dad would do astro in Newcastle. I’d talk his ear off, pointing out constellations, wishing on shooting stars. Sometimes he’d even let me press the shutter, but this was before I cared much about photography. I just wanted to spend time with him. I miss it.

“I was thinking of taking my mum,” Drew says. “She loves stargazing.” His face reddens, probably remembering that horrible comment in the classroom. “Evie, about her—”

“Sounds like fun,” I cut in, wanting to save him from having to explain. “If your mum doesn’t mind.”

He smiles. A genuine smile that transforms his face instantly and prompts me to pick up my camera, drawn into the moment.

“You said to practice,” I argue, when he puts his hand over the lens and pushes it out of his face. “Come on. Smile, or I’ll uninvite you to my formal.”

“I’ll uninvite you to stargazing.”

“What are you going to do? Ban me from the sky? Smile, Kennedy …”

The corners of his mouth curl and it’s the first time I’ve caught light in his eyes.

“That wasn’t so hard,” I say. “Was it?”