I laughed and crossed my ankles. “Very philosophical of you. Will you tell me the ones that are the hardest to love are the ones that need it the most? I beg to differ there. My mother needs no extra love.”
Across the courtyard, Rhys leaned against the faded brick wall with one of the dance girls pressed against him. Her fingers trailed up his chest as she said something to him, but he wasn’t looking at her.
He was staring after Trey who was jogging toward the parking lot. Those guys were suspicious as fuck. I didn’t know what Trey was up to, but I swore he was a criminal in the making.
A balled-up paper towel whacked me in the forehead.
“Nice.” I batted it away.
“You weren’t listening to me. Everybody needs love. Including Pat. But anyway. Are you going to the university today?”
The sun was crazy hot today with its insistent rays of sunshine. I grabbed the floppy hat off my backpack and plopped it on my head. No one else here had any kind of head protection on, so I looked like a unicorn. That was okay, I was an incognito unicorn, since the hat hid some of my features.
“I was planning on it.”
“Want me to ride with?” Ryan sounded a little too excited. Probably looking for an excuse to ogle hot college guys.
“Nah, I feel like this is a journey I need to take alone. It will just make me nervous if you go with me.”
My sunglasses went on right before I leaned back on my hands, completing my I don’t give a fuck unicorn persona. The courtyard was an interesting place for congregating, with lots of open green space and benches. My last school didn’t have this type of freedom and it was fascinating to watch all the students play court in the sunshine.
Without even realizing it, Rhys was the focal point of many jealous and lustful stares. Even though he wasn’t the star of a school sport, he was a big deal.
Then there were the little cliques that rotated zones around the grass. They all seemed to center on the jocks, but each held their own court. Jonah was out here too, sitting with a group of students that had textbooks laid out around them. Jonah was clearly the leader of that group, sitting higher above the rest and shaking a pencil at everyone.
“All right, fine. But you meet me in the art room before school. I want to know exactly what happened. Maybe you’ll meet the man of your dreams tonight. I need to make sure I’m there for you every step of the way.” Ryan tilted his head down and his sunglasses slid to the tip of his nose.
I didn’t respond as I took a bite of my apple and continued people watching. Why couldn’t I make a living doing this? I’d be freaking amazing at it.
Well, I guess there was the pap, but I didn’t want to be one of those creepos spreading celebs secrets like STDs all over the internet.
The bell rang and Ryan picked my bag up as we headed into the school. I couldn’t tell you what happened through the last two blocks of the day. My mind fluttered all over the place as my fingers kept curling around the folded piece of paper in my pocket.
Jonah passed me in the hallway when I was on my way out to the parking lot, and even though we hadn’t touched he did send a nice hate filled glare my way.
You’re welcome buddy. That showed me for trying to be on the right side of good Samaritan.
Sliding on my sunglasses, I pretended to look right over him as I skated around a pimply couple swapping saliva right in the center of the hall. I had better things to do than worry about Jonah’s volatile moods.
Outside, the warm breeze and fresh air pumped me up to the point I thought I could float right over to the university. Excitement buzzed at my fingers and toes as I raced to Freda. In just a short drive and mini waiting period I’d have a better sense of how I could create a portfolio.
“Don’t get kidnapped!” Ryan yelled from across the parking lot.
I flipped him the bird and a death scowl for making people look my way and slammed my door shut. But even that couldn’t distract me from my mission.
Traffic was light right before rush hour so I managed to make it there an hour early. Hip restaurants around campus taunted me with delicious smells, but my stomach was too tied up to satisfy my hunger.
This would be me next year. I would be like these girls that were taking their destiny in their own hands. Said girls passed by me as they laughed and bumped into each other. Going to class, a restaurant, anywhere they wanted with no one who cared if they had lives outside of church.
I see you, wonderfully independent college experiences, and I’m coming for you.
People were piling out of the Smith building as I reached the door. They were oblivious to me, so I had to wait on the side until a gap appeared. Sliding right through, the hall was strangely quiet and my steps echoed off the walls. Everyone had fled the building, leaving only one or two stragglers behind.
I didn’t know what I expected, but I thought there’d be more people lurking about and doing college things. I know they held night classes here. Posters and artwork hung on the walls reminding me of a much more sophisticated elementary school, giving credit to their students and fluffing them up with the warm and fuzzies.
I stopped at the end of the hall and pulled the folded piece of paper from my pocket to check the room number. It was more of an unconscious movement than anything else. Since about three minutes into my possession, the name and address was seared into my brain. Room 201.
The second floor was completely empty and it was still at least thirty minutes before the time Mr. Music gave me. National park stickers plastered the face of door 201, giving a little insight into the guy that was Mr. Music’s old roommate. From outward appearances, he seemed like he could be a cool person.
People who hiked and visited national parks as a hobby would be cool, right? I bet he loved photography too, and living in the moment. That’s how I imagined outdoorsy people to be.
Not that I would know. The most I knew about untamed nature were the church retreats, where we studied the word of God in the great outdoors. One time I did get to go kayaking, but that was about as adventurous as it got. It was a lake with lots of long, wooden docks, and an abundance of buoys roping off no go areas, so take it for what it was worth.
The door was halfway open, and the lights were on inside. Maybe he was here early.
My pulse thumped so hard, I could feel it in my wrists. Swallowing down my excitement, I stepped through the door.
The room was completely empty, with only a little scuffling coming from the closet.
Ha! He was here. I eased forward, not sure if I was ready to alert Mr. Brown to my presence just yet.
Hello was on the tip of my tongue when I peeked around the door.
A regular storage closet, similar to what we had in Mr. Music’s room, was the first thing I registered.
The second, was a guy with his pants open and a girl on her knees in front of him. He moaned when she must have done something extraordinary with her tongue.
Fuck. This turned me on and mortified me all at the same time.
A soft gasp escaped me as heat flooded my cheeks.
His eyes snapped open and I flushed even deeper. This guy’s eyes were the perfect mix of yellow gold and vibrant green. And the fact that his attention was locked on me short-circuited my brain.
It was only seconds of that heated gaze until his eyes widened. I guessed the haze of passion muddled his mind. Not that I could relate, since you know, still virgin here, but I could imagine.
“Oh fuck!” He shoved the girl away and she released his dick with a pop.
“Eek!” I screamed and spun away. As soon as the girl fell back on her butt, his angry erect dick bobbed hello.
And. It. Was. Pierced.
“Fuckin hell. Who are you and why didn’t you knock?” Anger whipped through the small enclosed space.
“I, um… I’m sorry. I’m here to see Mr. Brown. I was told he’d be here after five.”
“Yeah, well. It’s not even four-thirty so it might have been a good ide
a to knock. Don’t you think?” His voice has lost some of its heat and was now a nice level of irritated.
I couldn’t blame him. Although, dude probably shouldn’t be getting a blowjob in a school closet. That opened up risks he wouldn’t have had in his dorm room.
“Thatch, call me later and we can finish up where we left off.” A wet smack signaled a kiss goodbye, and the girl breezed past me without a second glance.
I’d love to have that kind of confidence, where I didn’t care about people catching me doing something sinfully illicit.
Hands on my shoulders propelled me out of the doorway and into the room. I was almost afraid to turn around, not wanting to see what his eyes looked like now that I’d pretty much ruined any chance of friendship.
“Astrid, right?”
All right. It was time. I spun on my heel and stared right at him as he shuffled stuff around on the desk. Amazingly, I didn’t burst into flames.
“Yes. But you’re not Mr. Brown?” I hadn’t meant it as a question but he clearly wasn’t more than twenty or twenty-one.
“Nope. I’m his assistant. He’s out sick today but he sent me an email of what to gather for you. I’m Thatcher by the way.”
He turned around and leaned on the desk, extending his hand to me.
His eyes were warm, the yellow almost nonexistent now. That was too bad. It was a good look for him. He jerked his head to the side to move his hair out of his face.
Charcoal stained his fingers and small paint splatters specked the back of his hand. Thatcher shook his hand again to get my attention and I jumped, thrusting my hand into his. Only after I grabbed his hand did it dawn on me. He was touching his junk seconds ago and he didn’t wash his hands. Oh well, too late now.
“Sorry. It’s been a weird day.”
“I bet,” A shimmer of amusement rolled over his eyes and I instinctively knew he was referring to my cockblocking moment.
I flicked my eyes down to his zipper but he had definitely lost the stiffness in his… posture.
I cleared my throat. “So, what did Mr. Brown leave for me?”
“Here,” he reached behind him and grabbed the box. Setting it on the table beside me he started taking out different items and arranging them on the table.
A few old text books on photography, the art of light and composition. It was the next thing that came out that brightened my world in the sweetest way.
He held a black camera case in his hand and his fingers all but mesmerized me as they opened the buckle, revealing a slightly beat up but beautiful camera.
“Nikon N2000. Here, you can hold it.”
I gingerly took it from his hands and turned it over in mine, tracing my finger along the lens.
I’d never had my own camera, other than my Android, and the experience of holding one for my own personal use was a thrill I hadn’t experienced before. Did Thatcher realize this was such a profound moment for me?
He probably wouldn’t care if he did. Not some cool art major. And especially not over the dorky high school, cockblocking student.
“Is there a manual with this thing?” I glanced up and met his stare.
“Sure is. But I can show you the basics. My emphasis isn’t photography, but I’ve taken a few beginner classes.”
He took the camera back and ran through the different settings, basic functionality and information on the lens.
I’m sure if I were a cartoon, I’d have pounding hearts circling my head. This was heaven for sure.
“So what is Dan giving you all this stuff for?” A note of curiosity threaded through his words as he leaned back on the desk, putting a couple feet of space between us.
“There’s a scholarship opportunity I really want to try for. I would love to say I’m a real photographic genius, but really, I suck at all other mediums. Photography is something I’ve enjoyed as a phone hobby, and the only real chance I have to make it as one of the school finalists.” Self-deprecation soaked my voice.
“Yeah, I heard about that. That’s got to be pretty exciting. I know I’d loved to have had an opportunity like that when I was in school.”
“You aren’t here on scholarship?”
I cringed as soon as the words left my mouth. Thatcher had an artsy sort of grunge going on. With a threadbare red flannel, opened over a black T-shirt, paired with ripped jeans, he wasn’t exactly winning any fashion awards. But he didn’t strike me as poor either, and that’s what I just implied. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
He chuckled under his breath. “Don’t worry about it. And yes, I am here on scholarships, and a work-study program, but I also have my fair share of student loans. So an opportunity to get a full ride, that’d be golden.”
I loved that he wasn’t trying to make this whole situation more awkward than it had to be.
“Well, that’s if I can get one of the finalist spots from our school, but then I’d have to win the whole thing. I’m cutting it a little short since this is my senior year.” Damn, the bitterness was strong.
“If you don’t mind, can I see some of your work? I might be able to offer some suggestions.” He seemed genuinely interested.
“Yeah, sure.” I pulled up the same pictures that I showed to Mr. Music. Biting my lip, I waited until he had looked his fill. These people, man, they had great poker faces. Their expressions didn’t give a clue on if they thought I was the next Henri-Cartier Bresson, or if I was just another wannabe with no talent.
Thatcher whistled under his breath. “These are actually really good.”
“Gee thanks,” I couldn’t hold back on the snark. His surprise offended me a little.
“No, listen. I didn’t know what I was meeting you here for, but you definitely have an eye. What’s your plan? When do you have to have a portfolio by?” He glanced up and a buzzing raced along my spine when we locked eyes.
I also blanked on any answer. Fuck. I wanted to be an adult and get away, so I better start getting my stuff together.
“I need to figure out how to use the camera first and then see what inspires me. I haven’t been given the deadline yet.” Lies. I totally had, but it completely escaped my poor addled brain.
“Were you supposed to study with Dan or anything like that? Or just pick up this stuff?” He packed everything back in the box.
“Just pick this stuff up.” The box was heavier than I thought when I took it from him. It was the weight of opportunity in my hands. I gripped the box a little tighter at this symbolic moment.
Thatcher hummed softly under his breath while he watched me. “I’ll tell you what. Let’s exchange numbers and I can help you with photography. Any help is an advantage for you at this point.”
What the flipping flip?
“You want to help me? Why? You don’t even know me.” I wanted to accept his offer but there had to be a catch. He must be angling for more backroom blowjobs.
He sighed. “Listen. I don’t know what has you so determined to get this scholarship, but you practically have hope and desperation written all over you. Consider this my good deed.”
Who the fuck did this guy think he was? I bristled and lifted my lip in a sneer. Thatcher’s brows drew together as if he didn’t quite understand why I was getting angry.
First Beck, offering me his one good deed of the year. Now Thatcher, wanting to take me under his wing because he felt sorry for me.
No, I’d show them. I didn’t need anyone’s pity to get ahead in life. I was strong. I was smart. And I would do it on my own.
No, that wasn’t quite right. I was going to accept the help of these guys that thought I needed it, but not in the way they wanted to help.
They wouldn’t even know they contributed to success.
“That’s okay. I don’t need your pity or your help. Thanks for meeting me with this stuff.” I lifted the box in a salute and turned my back to him.
“If you change your mind, my name is Thatcher Reed. And I don’t pity you. I admire you actually.” He calle
d after me.
I ignored his words and marched out to my car with a new fire in my heart.
As soon as I got strapped in, I dialed Ryan on the Bluetooth. A deliciously intriguing idea popped in my head and if I could pull it off, it would be epic.
“Hey girl! It’s not even five yet. You got the goods?” He asked like I went for some kind of drug deal.
Rolling my eyes, I eased out of the parking lot to head toward home.
“I did. An instruction manual, some textbooks and a camera. A real life freaking camera to create art with, Ry.” I nearly squealed.
“It must be good shit because you sound like a basket of sunshine in a snowstorm. Want to grab dinner and we can look over the stuff and do some test shots?” Loud clanking came down the line, so he must have been out somewhere already.
“No, I’m going home to get started on some research. But I was calling for another reason. I had an idea on what I can do for my portfolio submission. I’m reconsidering following Trey. There are a few people I’d like to follow. I could expose their lies in a glorious display of art. Without anyone actually knowing it was them, of course.” I was rambling but my excitement was getting the better of me.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. There’s a lot there. Why the sudden change and how’d you come up with this idea?” Ryan sounded confused but not against it. There was definitely no disapproval in his voice.
Ryan, always up for some good snooping and gossip.
I didn’t want to tell him about the storeroom or the revelation I had come to in the last thirty minutes. That would be too much embarrassment for one day. And knowing Ryan, he would never let me forget it. He thrived on stuff like that.
“I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out what I could do that would be worth anything. The only thing I’m really good at is candid shots when people don’t know I’m watching.”
“You mean stalking.” He interrupted.
“Shut up. I mean watching. Anyway. If that’s what got Mr. Music to take a chance on me and get a loan from his friend, then that’s the line that I’m going to follow.” I pulled out of the college, leaving endless dreams and potential roads of success behind me.
Pretty Lies: A contemporary YA Romance (Astrid Scott Series Book 1) Page 6
