He follows me up the stairs and into my room. I close the door behind him and he sits on the bed while I open my laptop. The photo I was working on last is still open on the screen. I bring it over to the bed and angle the screen so he can see them.
“It’s strange to see myself this way. I’ve never really liked taking pictures.”
“You’re extremely photogenic. I’d love to get some shots of you the next time you shave your head. The tattoos on your head paired with the Mohawk are one of my favorite looks on you.”
He runs a hand over his short hair. “And here I’ve been growing it out thinking you’d like that better.”
It’s the first tacit admission that he’s been trying to please me. It’s a heady feeling to know that my preference matters that much to him. Especially since he rarely cares what anyone thinks.
I continue scrolling through the pictures, showing him all the ones from that first day and then the ones I took on our walk through the woods the day he apologized. My favorite is the one when I told him he was my first kiss. When we get to the end, there’s a new appreciation in his eyes when he looks at me.
“I am so proud of you, Josie. These are fantastic.”
“Thank you.” Plenty of people have told me I’m a talented photographer but it means something altogether different to hear it from Zack. Because I care what he thinks.
“Can I see more of your work?” he asks shyly.
“Sure, of course. I have tons of photo albums.”
I walk into the closet and stand on tiptoe to reach the albums on the top shelf. For years, I collected photos of everything around me. Nature, people, cars. Anything and everything. I was waiting for something to inspire me. It wasn’t until I started photographing families that I felt the connection I’ve always been missing.
The first book I pull down has shots of several of my parents’ friends with their kids. I flip through the first few pages, smiling at the images of children at play and parents sneaking a kiss while they thought no one was looking. Looking at these now, I can see all the technical mistakes I made back then. But the emotion in these pictures practically jumps from the pages.
I wander back into the room holding the book open to one of my favorite shots. “These are some of my earliest attempts. You might remember my friend Hailey from–“
Zack looks up from the photo album open on his lap. The album that’s usually under my bed. The one that I’ve never shown anyone.
“Josie…” He stares at me and then glances back down at the album.
Even upside down I can tell which picture he’s looking at. It was taken one day when we were teenagers and Gabe had the grand idea to try to pop wheelies on this old motorcycle Zack had fixed up. In the photo, Zack is watching his brother with a look of patient affection. He looks happy.
“I look so young in this picture. When was this taken?”
“Um, that was the summer when my parents made me take ballroom lessons so that must have been when I was about sixteen. So you would have been about nineteen.”
The wonder in his eyes when he looks up at me takes me by surprise. “I didn’t even know you had a camera. Obviously you had a camera a lot of times when I wasn’t paying attention.”
He’s referring to the fact the entire album is filled with pictures of him. Nothing but pictures of him. Most of them taken at times when he wasn’t even aware I was photographing him.
It’s a little embarrassing that he’s found this. But it’s the only definitive proof of what I told him. That my feelings for him aren’t a new thing.
“Teenage girls can be a little obsessive. It’s a good thing you didn’t find this back then. You would have gotten a restraining order.”
“I wouldn’t have minded, even then.” He tugs on a lock of my hair. “I think that’s why I was so mean to you sometimes. Gabe took you for granted and it killed me because I always knew I couldn’t compete with him for your heart.”
“You didn’t have to win my heart. You’ve always had it,” I whisper.
He leans in and this time when he kisses me, he doesn’t stop.
chapter seven
†
ZACK
I would have thought that nothing could surprise me at this point in my life. I’ve gotten used to living life behind a wall. Caring about nothing and no one because it was easier than being disappointed over and over again.
But seeing that album of pictures took me completely off guard. There was a very real fear in the back of my mind that Jo was only with me because her first choice wasn’t available. That I was some sort of consolation prize. But a simple book of pictures has convinced me of her sincerity in a way that nothing else could.