by Riley Rivers
The howling started up once more, sounding even closer this time, and the chills that ran down Cameron’s spine had nothing to do with the temperature. He decided he had taken what pictures he could for now, and his hands were fairly frozen anyway. He got up, whole body stiff with cold, and started breaking down his set, putting everything back into his plastic bag. Once that was done, he shoved his hands back into his gloves and made his way back down the trail.
He tried to be rational about it as the sound continued. It was probably just some early morning dog walker with a dog that was over-excited to be out. No reason to be scared. No reason at all.
He still ran more than walked back to the lot though, trying to look stoic for when he inevitably ran into the dog and its owner, since that seemed to be the direction the howling was coming from.
His car was the only one parked in the lot when Cameron got there.
He hurriedly climbed into his car, stabbing his keys into the ignition. His initial plan had been to just nap while he was here, so he didn’t have to drive until he was slightly more rested.
The howling got louder. Sounded closer.
Okay, screw not driving. He’d find a grocery store or something to park in front of. Probably he was just overtired and hearing things now. Wouldn’t be the first time that had happened.
Once he had some sleep in him, he’d probably laugh at how he’d run from a nature trail with his tail between his legs.
***
After sleep, going to the gym to shower and change, and downing some food, Cameron felt a lot more human. He went straight from the gym to campus and checked into an editing suite, setting himself up to work on the pictures he’d just taken.
He was pleasantly surprised at how they’d come out, and ended up doing only a bare minimum of color correcting before he painstakingly went through each shot to choose which three he was going to turn in for a grade. The chosen three were loaded onto his flash drive so he could hand them in on Monday, as well as them to his portfolio Instagram.
On his personal Instagram, he posted his favorite picture of the scattered pieces of his little faerie house, as well as his overall favorite photo from the whole shoot. It was one of the pictures he’d had to use his remote control to take, and it was a front view of the little house, done in perspective, with puffs of smoke curling up from the tiny chimney. It had been stupid difficult to get the timing right for the perfect picture, but he was really happy with the result.
He checked the time, pleased to find that he still had a while before work. He could get some more studying in and then possibly fit in another nap. His shift tonight was the start of what was going to be a long, long week, so it felt like a bit of a luxury, having some room to breathe.
What with it being a Sunday, the labs weren’t very busy, so Cameron didn’t feel bad deciding to just hunker down and keep working. It was warm and quiet, and more private than the library, and he’d take what gifts he could.
He was doing reading for his Survey class when his phone buzzed with a notification from Instagram. He checked it absentmindedly, smiling at the few likes he had gotten, and then paused, blinking.
Ezra had written him a comment. Really stunning. How did you get the smoke effect? If you don’t mind sharing your secrets.
Alone in the lab room, Cameron’s cheeks flushed. He could barely believe that Ezra Green was asking him about a technique.
It’s my breath. He typed back. Lucky it was cold outside.
He set his phone back down on the table and tried to return his attention to his reading. He’d be lying though, if he’d said he didn’t jump to grab up his phone again at the next buzz.
Ezra had written a reply. You’re incredibly clever. I can’t wait to see what else you can do.
Cameron stared at the comment, and stared at it and stared at it.
Thank you.
Chapter Six
Cameron’s life had been a blur of do what it takes to survive for a very long time. Most recently that had consisted of work and school, with the little time he was able to eke out for himself spent on photography. He didn’t spend much time thinking about the future, because he needed to focus on the “now.”
But he found himself, amid a frantic, exhausting week, genuinely looking forward to Friday. Not because it was a rest day anymore, but because he was going to see Ezra and get to watch him work and follow along and just… experience something that, amazingly enough, seemed as though it could be positive for him. Instead of just something he did to get by.
Thursday night, after Astronomy let out, Cameron worked on his star chart, then, shivering, climbed into his car to pass out. His alarm woke him up at six-thirty, and he blinked sleep out of his eyes to drive to the gym to get ready for the day.
He also tentatively checked his bank account to find a direct deposit of one hundred and one dollars and sixty-three cents. It made everything actually seem real. He had gotten paid for real. This was something he was doing.
No more Sunday night shifts at the warehouse. He could get a true full night’s sleep for the first time in weeks. And it was only two days away.
He pulled into Ezra’s driveway at 7:52 am and this time walked straight up to the studio door. He was a bit more hesitant to punch in the door code Ezra had given him, but… that was the whole reason Ezra had given him the door code in the first place. So Cameron could just walk right in when he arrived.
Even though he had permission to do it, Cameron still felt as though he was trespassing as he slowly opened the door to the studio.
No one was there when he walked inside, and he stood there awkwardly for a moment, rubbing his hands together to warm them up. Eventually, unsure of what else to do, he went over to the kitchen area to drop his coat and backpack, then got to work on the shelves again.
He couldn’t have been working for more than a few minutes when he heard, “Cameron, good morning,” from directly behind him.
He jumped, startled, heart leaping into his throat as he just barely managed to bite down on a curse as he spun around. Ezra was standing there looking a little startled himself. Possibly at how quickly Cameron had moved. Fuck Ezra could walk quietly. It was usually a lot harder for someone to sneak up on him. Cameron’s default tended to be “on high alert.”
“Sorry,” he managed, trying to calm down. “I, uh, I didn’t see you and so I thought I would just get some work done?” He didn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but he also hadn’t cursed out his mentor, so. Small wins.
“I’m sorry if I scared you,” Ezra said, truly sounding apologetic. He was in dark wash jeans and a soft-looking blue and grey plaid button-up, with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His forearms were unfair.
Cameron shook his head, maybe a little harder than necessary. “You didn’t.”
A little furrow appeared in Ezra’s brow, but all he said was, “I’m going to show you how to help me pack up for the day. Our first call is at nine, in Hamtramck, so we have plenty of time to get over there.”
“Hamtramck?” Cameron asked, as he followed Ezra over to the locked cabinet at the back of the room. He didn’t think of Hamtramck as a place for fancy restaurants, exactly. But then again, what did he know about restaurants at all?
Ezra threw him a smile as he picked up a hard-sided piece of wheeled luggage. “There’s a build-your-own taco place that the Free Press is covering, and they want pictures to go along with the food. After that we’re heading to Maisy’s Table, which is a dessert bar in Livonia that wants pictures for its new website, and then our last stop is a new breakfast place in Birmingham that opened about a month ago called Licked Clean. Honest magazine is covering the up-and-coming entrepreneur couple running it.”
“Oh wow. You weren’t kidding that you kind of hopped from place to place on Fridays.”
Ezra grinned at him. “Nope. But it’s nice to get everything squished into a single day, if I can help it. Keeps me busy, and then leaves me more days to work on
other things.”
“I get that. I kind of do the same with work and school. If I can, I try to get all my classes on the same two or three days.”
“Those must be pretty long days.”
Cameron shrugged and tried for a smile. “It’s not too bad. Sleep is overrated anyway.”
Ezra hummed and stepped back to let Cameron see the equipment the cabinet held. Once again, Cameron was in awe.
“Since we’re doing food shoots and moving around,” Ezra said, “I want to make sure I’m prepared with all the lenses I might need. Let me show you what I usually take, for days like this.”
Cameron nodded eagerly.
***
“So what’s work?” Ezra asked after they’d been driving for a few minutes. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
They were in Ezra’s car instead of the van he used for transporting his full equipment kit around. It was a nice car, comfy seats, not too ostentatious. Very clean. Cameron felt like he was somehow mucking it up by being inside of it.
Ezra had asked if Cameron had wanted to pick some music too, and Cameron had balked thoroughly. So instead they were listening to NPR, with occasional interruptions from Ezra’s onboard GPS.
Cameron hadn’t exactly expected conversation, but it was probably stupid of him to not expect it. If he was going to be working for Ezra, especially in an internship where Cameron was supposed to learn from him, it made sense that they’d talk.
“I work at a packing warehouse.”
Ezra glanced over at him. “That can be a hard job.”
Cameron fiddled with his fingers. “It’s okay. I’ve gotten pretty good at picking up heavy stuff and putting it down somewhere else.”
He warmed when Ezra let out a little huff of a laugh. It made him feel like he’d done something right. “Fair enough,” Ezra said. “How did you come to work there?”
“Oh, uh, just saw an ad for it a couple years ago. Once I was out of high school I needed somewhere to go. They were hiring and didn’t exactly require qualifications, you know?” Was this okay to talk about? Cameron nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “So I applied and they took me on. It’s not, you know, the best job, but I don’t ever want for hours if I need to work a little bit more to cover bills. And they were flexible about me changing shifts around once I started at Wayne.”
“So you got the job before you started school?” Ezra asked. He didn’t sound accusatory or judgemental—Cameron was able to pick that out a mile away—but more absentminded. Like he was filing away that information for later. It was weird to think of Ezra wanting to… do that.
“Yeah, uh, I’m only in my second year at Wayne. I had to figure some stuff out, first.”
Cameron didn’t say that he’d basically been dumped on his ass the moment he turned eighteen, no one giving a shit about him anymore once he was officially “an adult.” He’d been given six months in a low-rent apartment on a scholarship fund and been told to find another place and a job by then or be shown the door one way or another. He’d gotten the job at the warehouse and it had pretty much saved his life. At least it had given him a reason to get up in the morning. Working was a reason.
It had taken even longer to figure out school. Cameron had had to learn the entire system himself, pretty much on his own. No one told kids like him that school was even really an option, much less that scholarships were available to make the government feel better about abandoning kids on their eighteenth birthday. Applying to said scholarships had been a nightmare in itself too, just having to scrape together the paperwork.
By the time he’d gotten everything he’d needed and applied to Wayne for their photography program, he was older and a little wiser and even more broke than he’d been to start with. And that scholarship? Was great, yeah, but it didn’t cover everything. Didn’t cover room and board. Didn’t cover supplies.
Cameron had lived almost his whole life being told he was a burden. The last thing he wanted was to go into debt and have that be a millstone around his neck. So he’d decided that loans weren’t an option. The scholarship paid most of his way; he just had to make up the difference. He’d always been a hard worker when he put his mind to something.
He’d admit, very quietly, if only to himself, that life wasn’t the easiest. But if nothing else, he saved a lot of money, not having to pay rent, and when he did graduate in two and a half more years, he wouldn’t have any debt dragging him down.
He told himself it was worth it.
“Cameron?”
“Oh! Yeah, uh, yeah. Sorry.”
“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want me to know.”
Cameron blinked. “Um, what? I’m sorry I—I spaced out. I missed your question.”
“I asked how old you were,” Ezra said.
Oh. “I’m twenty-two.”
Ezra nodded. “When’s your birthday?”
“In February.” Small talk was so weird. Cameron spoke to his teachers, his classmates when he had to do group projects, and sometimes his coworkers. He didn’t chat. He wasn’t so sure he knew how to.
Although the last two times he spoke with Ezra, conversation had come so easy.
“I’m in March,” Ezra said. “March 18th. Looks like we’re both winter babies, huh?”
Cameron tried to grin. “I’m February 22nd. That’s winter. You’re a lot closer to springtime.”
Ezra chuckled. “Fair enough. 22nd, huh? You just missed the Valentine’s Day rush.”
“It’s better that way,” Cameron said, grinning for real now. “I get all the Valentine’s Day candy on sale.” He never did anything for his birthday, but that was his little mini treat. Candy could be so cheap sometimes that he could buy bags and bags for only a few dollars. What he did get could last him months. He did the same thing the week after Halloween, too.
Another chuckle from Ezra. “A solid strategy. My parents used to do that with me and my siblings. Not Valentine’s day, but we’d all go to Kroger the day after Christmas and we’d each get to choose a bag of candy for ourselves. To hoard or eat however we wanted to.”
Cameron tried to push aside the little pang of hurt he got whenever someone talked about having a warm-fuzzy time growing up. “Did any of you end up sick from trying to eat a whole bag at once or something?”
“Some of my brothers,” Ezra said with a grin. “My sister and I weren’t the type, though. We tended to do more of the ‘hoarding’ and doled out candy over the next few weeks in exchange for favors.”
“How many siblings do you have?” Cameron asked, curious.
“One older sister, three younger brothers.” Ezra shook his head, smiling ruefully. “Being older now, I feel a little sorry for my sister. She helped my parents raise us in a way a kid shouldn’t have to be responsible. And my brothers certainly could try anyone’s patience.”
“Not you though?” Cameron couldn’t help asking.
“Oh, of course not.” Ezra smirked, sliding him a glance. “I was a perfect angel.”
Cameron laughed and found himself thinking maybe this really will work out okay.
***
The taco place was on the smaller side, with a bar that ran almost the length of it, and tables on the other side of a narrow aisle. The owner, Louis, gave them a run-down of the way the place worked, and how patrons ordered and were served. He then set them up at the table where they’d be taking the pictures, and presented Ezra with a rectangular ceramic tray with three open-faced tacos on it, as well as a side of chips and salsa. At Ezra’s request, he filled a mug of beer from the tap and set that down too.
Cameron watched as Ezra scrutinized the plates, holding his camera. Cameron had seen everything get packed up into the rolling luggage Ezra used to transport his smaller kit, and Ezra had been great in that he’d explained everything he was taking and why.
Now Cameron knew what lenses Ezra might be switching between to take his shots, but it was just as fascinating to watch Ezra walk around the table and min
utely adjust the plates to his liking.
He took a step back, held up his camera to look through the viewfinder, then walked closer to do the same thing, took several shots rapid-fire, moved a smidge to the left, and took more shots.
Then he peered down at the digital image on his camera’s screen before holding his camera out to Cameron. “What do you think?”
Cameron nearly squeaked, startled at even being asked. “Um?”
Ezra motioned Cameron closer and pointed at the screen, flicking through images. “Do you see the shadow over here?”
“Y-yeah.” The tall mug of beer was casting a shadow over one of the plates.
“What does that mean?”
Cameron looked from the screen to the table. “That… uh. The beer needs to be moved? Or that you should try taking pictures from a different angle?” He squinted at the camera screen again. “This angle has better overall lighting though.”
“Right, and I don’t particularly want to bring in a reflector, because that might mess with the atmosphere of the restaurant.” Ezra smiled at him. “Good eye.”
Cameron’s cheeks heated. ”Thanks.”
“Watch what happens when I make some changes, okay?”
Cameron nodded, watching rapt as Ezra shifted the items on the table again, moving the beer back and to the right, and then pushing the bowl of chips closer to the plate of tacos.
Ezra threw him a grin before lifting his camera again. “Got to take the pictures while the beer’s still frothy.”
He took quite a few pictures then, from all sides of the table, then stopped, moved a few of the chips in the bowl, and took some more. He had Cameron fetch him a different lens to switch out the one he was currently using, and then proceeded to look through all the shots he’d taken and nodded to himself.
