Picture Perfect

by Catherine Clark

  “I don’t know why we have to see the view. I mean, if you’ve seen one…lighthouse…” Spencer panted. “You’ve seen ’em…” Suddenly, he tripped, his foot hitting a step. He fell forward onto me and we both toppled awkwardly onto the stairs with a yelp.

  “Oh, God. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” Spencer stood up and brushed himself off.

  “Maybe if you weren’t barefoot—”

  “I’m not barefoot!” Spencer protested.

  “Then it’s the fact you’re not used to wearing shoes,” I said as I got up and brushed some dirt off my arm. “You don’t know how to walk in them.”

  “I tripped! I’m not a cave man,” Spencer said.

  We both walked a few steps farther, then stopped on a landing to rest. A white-haired elderly couple passed us.

  “So that’s who was breathing down my neck,” Spencer whispered.

  “They’ve got to be, like, sixty,” I said. “This is getting embarrassing.”

  “Getting?”

  “Hey guys, how’s it going?” Adam asked, already on his way back down.

  “Just great! Show-off,” Spencer muttered under his breath.

  “We paid seven dollars to abuse ourselves like this?” I asked. “Okay, so technically my dad paid, but…” No wonder Heather had stayed behind.

  “I thought I was in shape,” Spencer said. “I am so…not…”

  “Sure you are. You’re just not in as good shape as half the senior citizens here.”

  We both collapsed in out-of-breath, winded giggles.

  “Come on, if we don’t get going we’ll get lapped by the next tour,” I said, urging him to continue. “You go first this time.”

  “Fine, but Emily? And I mean this. No pictures,” Spencer said. “Okay?”

  “What are you thinking? That I wanted a picture of your butt?”

  “Who doesn’t?” he replied, posing with a little bump to the right.

  Another pair of grandparents passed us on the way down and gave us a look that could have stopped—or at least slowed—stairs traffic.

  “Do we have to walk all the way back down or can we just rappel?” Spencer asked.

  We were standing at the edge of the top of the lighthouse, looking down at the ocean. We’d finally made it after all. “What do you think this is, The Amazing Race? I mean, if you want to try skydiving, go ahead, but I don’t see anyone holding a mattress down there, and I don’t think the ground is very soft.”

  “I’ve been skydiving before,” Spencer said. “And rock climbing. The only thing I’m not so good at is walking down all those circular steps. It makes me dizzy.”

  “We don’t have to rush back down,” I said.

  “Technically, we do. There’s a time limit, because there’s a limit to how many people can be up here at one time.”

  “So we’ll recuperate really quickly.”

  “Okay, but I want to be a good tourist. Not a bad one who lurks on the side and messes things up for everyone else.” He glared at me.

  “Keep working at it, you have a ways to go,” I said. “How about enjoying the view?” I walked around the top of the lighthouse gazing at the expanses of water and land below.

  “Come on, you two—time to get going,” our tour guide said. “Time to begin our descent.”

  “Okay, but first—can I please take a few photos?” I said.

  “Sure, but make it quick.” She nodded at me.

  “Do you have a timer on that thing?” Spencer asked.

  “Of course, but—why? We don’t need a picture of us together,” I said as I focused the camera on the light at the top.

  “Sure we do,” Spencer said. “We’re the only ones who had the legs to climb this thing.”

  “And Adam,” I reminded him.

  “Oh. Right, I forgot.”

  “Did you want me to get your picture planting the flag or something? You know, like people do when they climb Everest?” I teased.

  “Excuse me. Sir?” Spencer approached a man standing next to us. “Would you mind taking our picture?”

  “Not at all.” He took the camera from me, and I showed him which button to push and explained how he had to wait to hear the little click. “Okay, guys. Stand over there. Closer, closer…” he urged.

  “Aw. You guys make a cute couple,” his wife said as we posed with big smiles, standing about a foot apart, our hands awkwardly perched on each other’s shoulders, as if we were teammates on a very unclose team.

  “Oh, we’re not,” I said.

  “Of course you’re cute, in fact you’re adorable—and how old are you? Sixteen, seventeen?” she went on.

  Spencer frowned at her. “Nineteen. And we’re not a couple,” he quickly said.

  “Got it!” the man said. He handed the camera to me. “I took five or six. You can delete the ones you don’t want.”

  “Believe me, she will. She loves to delete. She lives to delete.”

  What’s he talking about? I wondered, but I ignored his comment, thanked the couple, and headed for the stairs, Spencer following me. We nearly sprinted back down the spiral steps with our group. It wasn’t half as much fun as the way up.

  “So. We can check that off the must-see list,” Spencer said as we exited. “It was definitely worth it.”

  “Yeah. My mom will be thrilled,” I told him. “Let’s eat!”

  Heather jumped up as we walked over to her and said, “I finally got in touch with Dean, and it’s all set.”

  “What’s all set?” I asked.

  “You meeting Chase, what else? Tonight.”

  “Ooh! The excitement!” Spencer said in a high-pitched voice as he waved his hands in the air.

  Why was it that whenever I started to not detest him, he did something like this?

  “Did I say that?” I asked. “Do I ever act like that?”

  “Hmm. Let me think.”

  “You know what? Never mind. I don’t care what you think. You’re always going around telling us how you’re older and how you know more and how we’re so immature. Well, guess what? You’re the one who’s immature. And as far as going to college? I don’t think you’re ready, even if you are a—a so-called sophoman.”

  “It’s freshomore,” he said in a quiet tone.

  “It’s annoying, is what it is.” Heather headed for the van and I followed her, glad to have backup.

  Chapter 12

  “How’s it going?” the young guy standing at the photo printer beside mine asked.

  “Oh! Hi. Fine,” I said. I’d been sitting here for an hour, editing pictures, and organizing shots, before I went ahead and made prints of the ones I wanted. “How are you?” I asked.

  “Good. Tired but good.”

  “Yeah.” I’d walked to a pharmacy to use their photo printer the next morning. I knew that according to Heather, I should be making every attempt to hit it off with this guy, that I should see what we had in common, which was easy because obviously we were both the kind of people who get up early in order to take pictures, or at least to get those pictures printed.

  I could ask him about his camera. We could talk about focus and zoom features and lenses, and the rule of thirds.

  But I was starting to feel like there was no point in me trying, that I was slightly-to-very jinxed when it came to guys. If I talked to this one, I’d probably end up wiping out all of his digital images or shredding all my prints by mistake. Best to just focus on the task at hand.

  After I’d finished making prints, I was walking up to the counter to pay for an orange juice when I saw Spencer looking at his reflection in a twirling sunglasses display. I stopped and stared at him. “What are you doing here? You weren’t following me again, were you?”

  “Are you serious? Get over yourself,” he replied.

  His dad’s head popped up from the other side of the display. He had on large, white square sunglasses that seemed more intended for Nicole Richie than him. “We’re heading out in the kayak this morning. Got to h
ave sunglasses for that. Bright sun out there on the water.”

  “Right. You sure do,” I agreed.

  “I need new sunglasses because mine fell off somewhere yesterday between the 175th and 176th steps,” Spencer said.

  “Really?” I checked out his reflection as he slid a pair of wire-rim glasses over his nose. “Those are very Napoleon Dynamite.”

  He grinned and took a bow. “Thank you.”

  “I’m not sure it was a compliment.”

  He quickly pulled them off and tried on another pair. “What about these? Hmm. Well, what are you doing here?” he asked. “Did you need sunscreen or something?”

  “It’s personal,” I said.

  His face started to blush slightly. “Sorry…I…”

  “It’s this.” I held up the brightly colored envelope with the giant word PHOTOS on the side.

  Spencer looked up slowly, as if he was afraid of what he might see. “Oh! Pictures. Can I see?” he asked.

  “Not yet. I mean, I’m putting them together for everyone. I want it to be a surprise.”

  “You are? You never said anything about that.”

  “You never asked. And it’s a surprise, remember? So don’t tell anyone,” I said.

  “Okay. I’ll just say I saw you here…buying juice. They’ll believe it,” he said.

  “I have such deep, dark secrets,” I muttered.

  “You want a ride back?” he asked, following me to the door.

  “No, thanks. I’ll walk. But maybe you should pay for those before you set off the security alarm?” I pointed to his glasses, then swept out the door.

  When I got back to the house, I saw Heather lying on the beach. I quickly ran up to my room and stashed all the prints in my room’s desk, changed into my bikini, then hurried outside with my hat and towel.

  “Where were you last night?” I asked in a whisper as I dropped down to sit beside her.

  “Nowhere. What do you mean?” Heather laughed. “With Dean, where else?”

  “Yeah? So tell.”

  “Tell what?”

  “What did you do?”

  “We played mini golf. It was really cool.” She smiled.

  I laughed. “It was?”

  “Yes. Why is that so funny?”

  “I just never thought of putt-putt being…romantic,” I said.

  “Well, as a matter of fact…at night, with all the lights? It’s actually almost cool. We had a nice time by the twirling windmill.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. We were kissing and this older couple with their little kids was like, ‘Ahem. Ahem!’ They were coughing so loudly but we just pretended we didn’t hear them.”

  “That sounds fun. So you guys are kind of an item,” I said.

  “We’ll see. It might be a one-date thing, you never know. But I’m sorry it didn’t work out to meet Chase last night.”

  “That’s okay. I tried that whole vacation romance concept once. It didn’t work out so well for me. Ahem. Exhibit A. Or should I say B.”

  She followed my gaze over to our next-door neighbors’ deck, where Blake was standing, checking out the beach. He caught us looking his way and waved hello. I waved back, feeling kind of pathetic. “Cheers,” I muttered.

  I looked down at the water, where Spencer and his dad were either getting ready to go out in the double kayak, or maybe just coming back in. “Excuse me for a sec, Heather,” I said, and got up and walked down to the water’s edge.

  “Emily! You want to try it?” Mr. Flanagan offered. “It’s great fun. I’m sure Spencer would be glad to take you out.”

  I had this image in my head of being stranded with Spencer out on open water. He’d probably mock the way I paddled. “I don’t know, I mean, you guys are all set up—”

  “That’s all right, I want to go get some breakfast,” Mr. Flanagan said. “You ought to give it a try.”

  “Oh, no, Emily doesn’t do any water sports.” Spencer shook his head. “She hates sports. She hates water.”

  I laughed. “I do not! That’s not true.”

  I looked up and saw Blake coming closer, beach volleyball gear in hand. His red-haired girlfriend was right behind him, wearing what looked like a black vinyl—or possibly leather—swimsuit. If I had to stick around and watch the two of them, I’d go insane, or at least, more insane.

  “Sure, I’d love to go kayaking,” I said. “Thanks, Mr. Flanagan.”

  Spencer nearly dropped the kayak paddle. “Really?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “Um…I can think of lots of reasons, but if you’re up for it, that’s great.”

  “Here you go.” Mr. Flanagan handed me his life jacket. “I’m off to score some muffins.”

  I pulled the life jacket over my head and connected the various snaps and straps.

  Spencer started laughing at me.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked.

  “That’s a bit large on you.” He walked over to help me adjust it from his dad’s size to mine. He put his hand on my waist, cinching the nylon belt.

  “Can’t you make it any tighter?” I gasped.

  “What?”

  “I can’t breathe!”

  “Oh! Sorry.” He stepped in closer to make a few adjustments, and I found myself standing eye to cheek-scar. “We just have to make sure it’s on there properly in case something happens.”

  “What’s going to happen?” I asked, feeling funny about standing so close with so few clothes on.

  “Nothing. A little splash now and then from paddling.” He shrugged as he stepped back and got the boat ready for us. “You’ve kayaked before, right?”

  “Sure. Sure.” I nodded. “We had a kayak class at camp.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “You went to ballet camp,” he said. “Didn’t you?”

  “Yes, but you can’t spend the entire day indoors,” I said.

  “You can’t? Then how do you keep your skin so pale?”

  “Through the careful application of sunscreen.”

  “You could be a member of Conan O’Brien’s Pale Force. They’re superheroes who blind people with their paleness,” said Spencer.

  I frowned at him. “Just get in,” I said.

  “You first,” Spencer offered. I slid into the front seat of the two-person kayak and picked up the paddle. So far, so good, I thought. No major incidents, nothing to embarrass me—further—in front of Blake.

  “Emily. Emily! Where are you going in that thing?” my mother shouted. “Don’t you know this area is known as the Graveyard of the Atlantic?”

  “Mom, that’s for big boats running aground!” I called over my shoulder. “Not us!”

  “Wow.” Spencer was just staring at me, holding on to both sides of the kayak.

  “What?”

  He nodded. “Impressed that you knew that.”

  “I’m a good tourist. I read all the brochures and signs.” I smiled.

  “Right.” Spencer climbed into the kayak, and, at the same time, pushed off with his back foot. “Now, the thing we have to do is attack the water to get past these first couple waves, okay? So when I say paddle, you really have to paddle.”

  “Gotcha.” I settled into my seat and we took our first paddle. A wave was curling about fifteen feet off, but I knew it would break before it got to us. We paddled on, through its foamy bubbles after it broke, and headed farther out.

  I saw another medium-size wave coming, but it was still a ways off. Suddenly, just to my right, I spotted something jump. I watched again. “Look! Over there! Dolphins!”

  “Paddle!” Spencer shouted.

  “Dolphins—did you see?” I pointed with my paddle.

  “Wave! Did you see—”

  The bow of the kayak went straight up—then the wave crashed right on top of us—and we tipped to the right, completely falling over, getting tumbled and thrown around by the water. The kayak was tilted on its side and I was instantly drenched with water. I half fell, half climbed out.
<
br />   “Not one of your more graceful moves,” Spencer said as he swam and walked back toward shore.

  I couldn’t stop laughing. “Oh, my God, imagine how dumb that must have looked!”

  “Don’t worry, I’m sure only about two hundred people were watching, including your boy Blake, and his latest flame—”

  “Quiet!” I said, still laughing as a strap from Spencer’s life jacket got tangled up in the boat, and he fell into me, knocking me to the sand in the shallow water.

  “Okay, apparently you neglected to read the brochure on kayak safety,” Spencer began as we clambered to our feet, brushing sand off our swimsuits and legs. “The thing is that you have to get beyond the waves in order to start sightseeing. And when I tell you to paddle—paddle!”

  “I know, but they were dolphins, Spencer. Real, live dolphins!” I said.

  “What’s the big deal? Haven’t you ever been to SeaWorld?”

  “No, and besides, these are wild dolphins. Free range. Whatever,” I said. “That makes them so much more interesting. Let’s go back out—we have time, don’t we, before today’s tour of whatever?” I looked at my pink watch. The numbers didn’t flash anymore. “My watch!”

  “Does that thing actually tell time or does it just beep when the Hello Kitty trend is over, so you know when to throw it out?”

  “What? I’d never throw it out, what are you saying?” I looked at it again. “You got your wish. Kitty seems to have drowned. Good-bye Hello Kitty,” I said, and we both laughed. “Why is everyone standing on the deck?” I asked. “Are they laughing at us?”

  “I would be.”

  “Why are they waving hysterically at us?”

  “Maybe those aren’t dolphins,” Spencer suggested. “Maybe they’re sharks.”

  “What? No.” I shook my head. “Definitely dolphins. Should we try to go out on the water again now or should we ask them what’s going on first?”

  “My mom’s waving at me. We’d better see what it’s all about.” Spencer pulled the kayak up on the beach, closer to the house, and we laid the paddles underneath it.

  I took off my life jacket and draped it over the edge of the deck to dry out, and Spencer did the same.

  “What’s going on?” I asked as we walked up onto the deck to join the group.