24. Winnie
There are lots of photographers in the world. The people who get paid and others who simply enjoy a good snapshot. But every one of them will be able to tell you their favorite subjects to photograph. Mine is humans. Particularly action or candid photos. When the person is being a human and doing normal things.
For the past few weekends, I’ve been finding myself around campus, snapping photos of innocent bystanders. Sometimes they will catch me, others not. But I haven’t gotten in trouble yet. It’s not like I’m doing anything weird with the photos. We have a project due in a few months that’s worth 33 percent of our grade. The kind of project was up to us, but it had to involve photography, obviously, and be able to tell a story or a lesson of some kind without us actually telling it. I’m not sure what my story is just yet, but I’m hoping all these photos will work for it, or I’m screwed.
With the camera held up to my face, I turn in a half circle, changing my direction. A couple walks by, and I snap their photo, but they are too busy smiling at each other to notice. Cute. Gag me. I turn again but come face-to-face with a familiar man right in my lens.
“Mr. Hudson.” I jump, startled to see him.
“Hello, Winnie. What are you doing out here?”
“Taking photos.” Obviously. “What are you doing here?”
A crooked smile tilts his lips. “On my way back from a meeting. One about you, actually.”
Surprised, my eyebrows shoot up my forehead. “Me? What about me?”
“Why don’t we head to my office to discuss it?”
Mr. Hudson is the most intimidating person I’ve ever met. I don’t know why, but being in a small office alone with him sounds… dangerous. Not that I think he’s going to do anything inappropriate. It must just be Reese’s warning getting to my head. Mr. Hudson has never been anything but professional. In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s married. Unless he wears a wedding band for fun.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Mr. Hudson dips his chin. “They were very adamant about wanting you, and I can’t say I blame them. You have a real gift, Winnie.”
My cheeks burn at his words. I get compliments from my mom, used to from Reese and Elijah back in the day, but none of them know anything about photography. Mr. Hudson has a degree in it, teaches it to students for a living, and is an infamous photographer around the area. He’s known for eclectic tastes. I saw some of his work before, and most of the subjects were naked or close to it.
“But why don’t they hire a professional? Why not you?” I can’t understand why the college hockey team specifically asked for me. Of course, I have an idea, but that would be crazy for Reese to get his coaches and the athletic director to meddle in… whatever is going on between us.
“You are cheaper,” he states, but I’m not offended. He’s right, after all. “The team has been lacking in their number of fans attending games. They are hoping with your skills and the help of a social media manager, their fan base will grow. You’ll send the photos and videos to the manager, and they will post them as a form of marketing. Apparently, it is quite popular right now.”
It almost seems too good to be true. I’d be making money—not a lot, but some change—and doing what I love most? Of course, that’s always been the goal, but I’m only a freshman. Only a few weeks into the school year, at that.
“And they saw my work?”
“I showed them, yes.”
My eyebrows furrow, but I push it away. I’m sure he has my application on file. “Well, I don’t really have any reason to say no.”
“No, you don’t.” He chuckles, then folds his hands together on top of his desk. “This is a great opportunity. It would be foolish to turn it down.”
I lean back and sigh. “Well, when do I start?”
A bright smile splits his face. “We all agreed that a trial run would benefit everyone. They can decide if you are the right choice—which I have no doubt you are—and you can decide if you even like taking their photos.”
I don’t know why I wouldn’t. Sure, Reese will be there, but I can put everything between us aside for the sake of this amazing opportunity. If I do well for them, my dream of photographing professional teams doesn’t seem so unrealistic.
“They have morning practice on Saturday. I will come with you and assist in anything you need until you are comfortable enough on your own.”
That’s only two days away. I don’t have much to prepare, but I’ll need to make sure my cameras are fully charged and I have a few empty memory cards. I’m sure the store in town sells cards, so I won’t have to delete anything I currently have.
“Thanks, Mr. Hudson. I’m really excited.”
“You should be. This is a great opportunity. Especially if you would like to make a career out of sports photography, which I saw on your application that you do.”
“That’s right. I’ve always liked the action sports bring.”
“Anyone in your life help encourage that?”
I wonder if he’s hinting at Reese, but surprisingly, he wasn’t the reason. Not the biggest, anyway.
“Yeah, my dad. He was a photographer too. Not professional, but he worked for the local newspaper in my hometown until me and my brother were born and he needed to make more money.”
“Does your dad still photograph?”
I swallow against the lump in my throat. “No, he unfortunately died a couple years ago.”
“I am sorry to hear that, Winnie.”
A beat of awkward silence passes before I say, “Thanks. But the reason I like sports specifically is because he played hockey in college, and he used to coach my brother’s team growing up. He always let me tag along, and I would snap photos the entire time. I don’t know.” I shrug. “I just really liked it. Men are sort of beautiful when they are doing something they love, you know?”
No, Winnie, he probably doesn’t know. Why did I say that out loud?
“Humans are extraordinary,” he concurs, unaffected by my weird comment. But I suppose someone who takes nude photos of people would probably agree.
I twist my lips, debating if I should bring up his work, but might as well. The conversation is already awkward enough. “I looked you up. When I was researching the school, I mean.”
He settles into his chair, not at all bothered. “And? What did you find?”
“Your boudoir shoots. Specifically the one with that pretty blonde with the heterochromia eyes.”
“Ahh.” He chuckles. “Yes, I was in college and trying to make some side money. Boudoir was the popular thing. Big money-maker.”
“They were beautiful photos.”
“Yes, they were.” He dips his chin. “I don’t photograph boudoir for anyone but my wife now, but I enjoyed it at the time. Nothing is sexier than a confident woman. I assume you feel the same about men, as confidence is appealing in either gender. Men are confident during sports, which would be your appeal.”
I never considered it lustful, but I suppose, in a way, me photographing men in the state I do is similar to him photographing women in the state he used to. I do think it’s sweet that he no longer photographs any other woman besides his wife, though.
“I never thought about it like that, but I suppose you’re right.”
“I usually am.” He grins, and I laugh.
“Now I feel dirty.”
He flashes his bright teeth and throws his head back, laughing. “Photography is intimate no matter the circumstance. Do not be embarrassed by that, or you will struggle to get anywhere.”
I narrow my eyes. “How did you meet your wife, Mr. Hudson?”
“On a photo shoot.”
“A boudoir one?”
He dips his chin. “That’s right. She was getting photos done for her boyfriend at the time, but I looked into her eyes, one blue, one brown, and that was it. I was infatuated with a taken woman.”
My eyebrows shoot up my forehead. “No way, that girl is now your wife?” I’m not into girls, but I can admit when a girl is hot, and the photos I saw of her were hot. Like she was making love with the camera. “That’s a bit scandalous, Mr. Hudson.”
He chuckles darkly. “He was a lame excuse for a man. Didn’t deserve the photos anyway.”
“Well, what did you do? You know, to make her yours?”
He smirks before meeting my eyes with a distant look. “What any lovestruck man would do. Anything it took.”
Someone knocks on my bedroom door, and I call for them to come in. It’s probably Elijah. He mentioned that he was going out tonight and would let me know when.
I’ve been in my room most of the day, having woken up sick. Even had to miss my photography class, but Mr. Hudson said it was fine in the email he sent and offered to fill me in tomorrow at the rink if need be.
I’m just hoping I wake up feeling better tomorrow. It would be miserable taking photos with how I’m feeling.
“You look like shit.”
Brothers. Always there to humble you.
“Yeah, thanks.”
He steps in, his eyebrows furrowed, and walks over to place a hand on my forehead. “You’re not warm. What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. Just a stomach bug, I think. I’ve thrown up, like, three times since breakfast.”
Worry etches over his harsh face. “Do you want me to stay home?”
“No, I’m a big girl.”
He seems to think it over, then sighs. “Yeah, but you’ll always be my baby sister. If you want me to stay home, I will.”
“No, I really don’t want you to. I want to curl up on the couch and watch Friends, but I can’t do that with you breathing down my neck.”
He matches my smile and ruffles my hair. “Fine. But call me if you need anything. I might not answer right away, but I’ll call you back.”
I’m half tempted to ask where he’s going. Where he disappears to every Friday and Saturday night since I moved in, but I know he won’t tell me. The first time I asked, he ignored me. And the second time, he told me it was a need-to-know situation and I didn’t need to know. Asshole.
“Yeah, go have fun. Or whatever.”
He smirks and kisses my forehead. “Get some sleep, too.”
“Okay, Dad. Go.”
We freeze, and I swallow hard. “Eli…”
But he’s already storming from my room. A haunted look across his face.
My already-upset stomach rolls, and I sprint to the bathroom.
I don’t know what is making me sick, or at least I’m trying really hard not to think about what it could be.