How I Fly

by Anne Eliot

  The French girls have become friends. It seems as though they might like things to go from hanging out to something more, but Patrick and I are disappointing them. Which is sad, because these girls are well past the word hot and more like Victoria’s Secret models with sexy accents. Patrick and I have had fun with them, but so far we’ve kept all hands, lips, and other things on pause for now. It’s almost to the point where I wonder if Chloe and Charisse think that Patrick and I are into each other. But it’s not like he and I can admit what’s really going on. It’s pretty obvious Patrick’s still holding out hopes for being with Laura. And I can’t really easily explain to anyone else that I’m just trying to survive.

  Luckily Patrick and Laura understand, which for now is enough to keep me together.

  Despite the fact that Professor Perry’s photography classroom is like walking into my own private hell every single day, I’ve caught up on all of my work. Professor Perry accepted the still-life work of the fences I’d photographed while at the boys home for my first project. Even better, he gave me an A.

  I’ve also been able to avoid Ellen and Harrison being a couple all week long, because today, Friday, was the due date for the second assigned project, and for the most part we were allowed to work outside the classroom to complete it.

  Ellen and Harrison have been hanging out working theirs together who knows where. And out of kindness, Patrick and Laura have been hanging out with me while I work on mine and think of things to do to keep my mind busy and my eyes off Harrison and Ellen.

  But now that we’re supposed to be back in the classroom for the next few days, I’m realizing very quickly that it’s possible I won’t make it through.

  On the first day I came into the classroom to meet Professor Perry, I’d thought the arena style of this room looked so great. It was modern and different than anything I’d ever seen back in Brights Grove, that’s for sure. I couldn’t wait to work in here.

  But now, with all the worktables filled up with students, it completely sucks.

  From my seat in the last row, I’m choking from having such a good view of everything, like Ellen and Harrison sitting up front. We’ve just paired-up on our newly assigned project, “Human Expressions.” It’s a project we’re supposed to complete in one day. Here and now. Professor Perry wants us to take zoomed-in shots of the different faces people make. Laura and I have already done about two hundred shots of each other, which is more than enough, but Ellen and Harrison won’t quit.

  It’s like they can’t stop taking photos of each other. And it’s so freaking annoying.

  Ellen’s hand goes on Harrison’s shoulder while he points his camera lens at Ellen and snaps about ten photos of her smiling face.

  My throat goes dry, and I swear that even from this distance I can hear the camera permanently saving shots of her eyes. Her lips. Her laughing smile.

  Harrison moves his camera away, and his hand pulls on Ellen’s braid while she retaliates with her camera. Click. Click. While he smiles at her.

  Because the last six thousand shots they took weren’t enough?

  Ugh.

  Worse, while they keep pausing to look at and then edit photos while sharing the same monitor, Ellen’s always pressed into Harrison’s shoulder, so much so that my shoulder actually aches from missing where she used to do that to me. All this while I track the various blushes I used to love more than breathing hitting Ellen’s cheeks whenever that dude whispers some line into her ear. What kills me the most (as if all of that doesn’t kill me) is the way she’s constantly glancing at Harrison out of the corner of her eye. It’s like she wants to check if he’s really there or something. She’s doing it right now.

  If only she’d just stop looking at him and glance back at me. Wonder and check if I’m really here. But if she did, would it matter? I’d look away so fast. I’d pretend I wasn’t noticing her at all.

  I’m never going to let her know I still love her, because that’s futile. I only want to see her happy. If she knew what I still thought or wanted or hoped for…damn. She’d be sad, or at the very least she’d feel guilty or sorry for me. Because even saying it inside my head while I’m pouting about her being with her new boyfriend is completely ass-wiping -lame and desperate and pathetic.

  And that’s not the point. The whole point is that she’s well and that she’s happy. That’s it. The. End.

  Harrison tickles the back of her neck, and she giggles.

  Giggles happily, that is.

  So. Damn. Happily.

  “Is it too hot in here? I wish this place had side windows, not just skylights,” I whisper to Laura. “This room feels more like a prison than the place I just left, and it had razor wires and gates.” I tug at my shirt and lean my chair back, forcing myself to stare at the skylight above me. “I guess I never knew how much I relied on windows. I hate everything about this damn room. Every. Damn. Thing.”

  “I’ve had that feeling, too. You’ll get used to it. Tomorrow we’ve got the trip to Grand Bend to do shots for the scholarship. It’s going to be all outside all the time, and so amazing. Are you willing to hang out with me there some? I’m not as good as you lot, so I could use extra help—maybe you could give me remedial pointers?”

  “Sure. You know your stuff is getting great, though.”

  “It could be better.” She smiles.

  I smile back. I know she’s just setting all this up so if things get too sad with Ellen and Harrison splashing around the beach, then she’ll be able to make me work on the only thing that seems to be able to take my mind off just how much I still love Ellen Foster—photography.

  I hear Ellen’s giggle again, and it twists my heart into another ball of pain. It’s all I can do not to visibly wince in front of Laura. I know I’m supposed to be watching Professor Perry show me the latest Photoshop tools and techniques, plus go over the various application updates that were just released today from Adobe—a topic I usually obsess over—but I can’t. That’s because after almost losing my mind this whole class time with Harrison and Ellen’s PDA show, I’ve begun noticing Harrison’s reactions to Ellen.

  And they’re not ringing true. I think he’s not into her. Not how she’s into him, and possibly not at all.

  Even to my own mind I know this makes me seem like a jealous ex-boyfriend stalker, or someone who can’t face the reality of my ex moving on without me. But I swear all the way to heaven and down into the depths of hell something seems off right now.

  And I mean really off. I could swear the guy is acting right now.

  All this week long, while we hang out at breakfast and lunch—the two places I can’t avoid them—I’ve been watching Ellen as she falls for this dude. And on her part, it’s sincere. Because, damn me to hell, but I’m pretty sure I’ve memorized how that looks because Ellen Foster once fell in love with me. And it looks sweet, adorable, and beautiful.

  And like I’ve told myself: as long as Ellen is happy, I can stand by and let it happen. But the problem is, of course, Harrison Shaw. For some reason, and possibly for the obvious reasons, I simply can’t find one good thing about him—because I could swear the guy is not sincere.

  The word tool, which I’d held in reserve for him from the first day we met and he was such an ass, keeps popping into my head every time he opens his mouth. He’s just so…full of himself, and when he’s not full of himself, he’s full of crap.

  He’s been nice enough as a roommate, and he does have some good photography work under his belt, but I can’t shake the feeling that the selfish little whining jerk I met on day one is the real him. The sensitive, glasses-wearing hipster dude who’s all into holding hands and discussing art history and talking about how Ansel Adams and nature changed his whole life feels to me like it’s all this huge act.

  I’ve been warring with myself over it all week. I know I need to be happy, because Ellen seems to want all of this. Him. And I realize my ship has sailed where she and I are concerned, so no matter what I wish for w
here she’s concerned, I no longer have the right to wish anything.

  With my parents and even my life still feeling so up in the air, Ellen deserves to be in love and having the best summer of her life. And from where I sit, that seems to be happening for her. Now that I’m back and I’m here as a friend, I get that I’m supposed to fade into her background life. She wants the same for me. I’m supposed to make myself as happy as possible, because I know she still worries and senses that I’m not.

  So I’m working on pulling that off. And while I’m here this summer, happy is the part I’ve vowed to play. I’m the good friend who kissed a girl a few times, but who’s moved on and is cool and evolved enough to still be close buddies with her.

  That’s me. Good. Friend. Cam.

  It’s just…something feels off about this Harrison Shaw.

  He’s cute, and he’s always around, making Ellen as happy as she deserves to be every single day, but damn…how he looks at her just doesn’t seem to match how she’s starting to look at him, and that scares me. Above all else, I can’t watch Ellen Foster be hurt again, even from a distance and by someone else.

  I am simply not capable of being near that.

  I glance at Laura, wondering if I should mention my gut feelings to her, but right now Laura’s clutching her chest all goofy, like she’s watching a live romantic movie starring Ellen and Harrison and she’s the damn director.

  Professor Perry is fiddling with the computer that runs the overhead projector. Harrison uses Professor Perry’s distraction as an excuse to grab Ellen’s hand into his, whispering something that makes her crack up. She tries to pull her hand away, but he slaps a small kiss on it then holds it fast, poking her until she giggles out loud again.

  Ellen’s giggles draw a tight glare from Professor Perry. One that Ellen doesn’t even notice, because she’s too busy blinking into Harrison’s teasing eyes and trying to retaliate. Harrison seems to notice, because when he meets the professor’s gaze, he shrugs as though Ellen’s doing all of this giggling and hand holding and general goofing off all while he’s simply an innocent bystander.

  I try not to grimace, but I feel my face pulling down anyhow. Sighing, I shake my head and I meet Patrick’s gaze with a pained expression. He returns it with one of his own. As I turn back to work, I notice Patrick’s also frowning down at Harrison, and just how I was frowning.

  Professor Perry steps up to Ellen and Harrison’s table. “Ellen Foster, I’m going to need to speak to you after this class. Do you…have time?” His voice is bordering on sarcastic, and he rolls his eyes slightly at Harrison and Ellen’s tightly clutched hands. Harrison quickly pulls his hand away and turns away from Ellen, as though to make a show that Ellen was the one clutching his hand, not the other way around.

  I see the back of Ellen’s neck color bright red. “Yes, sir, of course I have time.”

  The bell rings to signify the beginning of our lunch break. I hear Patrick’s audible sigh as though he, too, is relieved this class is over. We stand along with everyone else to exit the classroom, but, of course, my eyes can’t seem to stop torturing me.

  From my viewpoint, I see Harrison wait until Professor Perry turns away again, then he whispers something hastily to Ellen. In once second flat the guy is out of the side doors at the edge of room. I wonder why Harrison’s in such a hurry. Isn’t he going to wait around while his girlfriend gets busted because of him?

  I pretend to drop a few things. The whole time I’m watching the pissed-off expression Professor Perry’s directing at Ellen as he waits for her to gather her things, then her crutches so she can get to his desk.

  He’s actually crossing his arms and tapping his foot, as though he’s now impatiently waiting for the room to clear so he can give her some sort of lecture. When we all make it out into the hallway, I can tell that Laura and Patrick are also curious as to what’s going on with Ellen. “Will you save me a seat at lunch? I’m—I’ll go down the back stairs wait and check if Ellen’s okay.”

  “Yeah. Sure,” Laura says. “If you weren’t going to go, I was going to do it.”

  They head out the doors together, and I make a beeline for the elevator that will take me down to the lower level and the door where Ellen’s going to exit the classroom. As I head down the hallway, almost running, I figure I’ll take off and make some sort of dumb excuse if Harrison’s actually down there waiting for Ellen. Maybe that’s why he left like that—to simply wait for her.

  When I get to the door, Ellen’s just coming out. Her face is cake-frosting white and she looks really stressed, but thankfully not surprised or upset to see me. Thankfully, Harrison’s nowhere in sight.

  “What happened?” I breathe out, grabbing her heavy book bag without asking if I’m allowed to carry her things, all while holding open the door for her to crutch through.

  “I—I—did you turn in your assignment—your second photo assignment—at the beginning of class? And did you turn in your Human Expressions shots before you left the class this afternoon?”

  I nod. “We all did. Didn’t you?”

  “No. That’s why he was so angry. I actually almost got a fat zero on both of the assignments, but when I showed him that my shots were ready to go, Professor Perry allowed me to upload them into his cloud storage just now off my laptop. I also got a huge warning that I’m not to mess up again.”

  She shakes her head. “I thought we had until this evening. Thankfully my big project was ninety-nine percent done, and I was able to choose and load some good ones I took of Harrison really fast. I’d wanted to double-check a few shots, and then edit some more during our lab time today. I have no idea how I could have made such a mistake. I texted Harrison. Apparently he’d been on track. Turned his bigger project last night while we were hanging out in the lounge. The Human Expressions he’d uploaded while I was sitting next to him just before the bell, apparently, but I didn’t even notice. I was simply not paying attention, I guess.”

  “Harrison never said anything about it? Never noticed you didn’t upload yours?”

  “No…like…today we were goofing off so much. And yesterday, well…we always just work with laptops open and headphones on, side by side. We’re usually silent unless we need to help each other out. It never came up. We’ve all got the deadlines and the times from that paper, right?”

  I frown. “Yeah. But the paper clearly stated the expectations. It also stated the hour both projects were due—today. One by 9 a.m., the other by the end of class today. That was typed all bold and in red all caps. You know how Professor Perry loves red and all caps. But maybe you and Harrison are so busy staring at each other and not hanging out with any of us that you are losing touch with reality.”

  “Red? All caps?” She’s wrinkling her brow. “I don’t remember the paper having red on it. And I’m sorry if you think we’ve been spending too much time together. Honest, we’re just working. I’ve been really helping Harrison with his shots. He’s improving so much.”

  “Oh, so that’s why the guy is monopolizing your time so much? Last I looked, Professor Perry was in charge of making Harrison Shaw improve his photography.”

  “Hey. You know I like to help people.”

  I sigh, frustrated as hell. “Yeah. Okay. Well…you should talk to Laura. She’s getting sad about it, actually, as is Patrick. We’re really hoping next week at Grand Bend you’ll spend more time with—with—us. Like old times,” I add, trying not to sound desperate or too much like I’m begging or wishing for what I’ve no right to beg and wish for anymore.

  “Oh. Okay. Point taken.” She sighs. “I’ve been really distracted and—” She blushes. My heart twists in surprise pain, because I’m certain her blush probably means Harrison was probably also distracting her with his shady boyfriend make-out moves.

  Ugh. Ugh. Ugggh.

  While I work to tamp down the horrible images that last thought brings into my mind, she hastily rushes on: “I did text Harrison just before I went to sleep last night
about how I’d meant to re-edit two of my shots before turning them in. He never told me that was a bad idea, but now…hmm.” She’s frowning. “Maybe I’d left off telling him that I’d meant to do it today. Maybe I just said I was going to edit two more and he assumed I’d meant to do that last night before falling asleep. He even made helpful suggestions as to what he’d improve.” She frowns more. “I guess I assumed he and I would work on them together this afternoon, and then turn them in at the same time—but again, after lab time.”

  “Right,” I say, shaking my head. “But then Professor Perry posted on the website this morning that the lab would be closed this afternoon, so we could all pack and be ready on the bus in time. So what about that? Did you not check the site? Because if you had checked, you would have turned in everything before class.”

  “That’s what the website said?” She closes her eyes as though she wishes this were some sort of bad dream. “I can’t believe I almost messed up my chances at the scholarship offer.”

  “Ellen, you were the one who told me that I needed to make morning website checks my new religion, so what the heck…why didn’t you?”

  She blinks, her face going even whiter. “But Harrison told me he’d checked the website and that I didn’t need to look because there was no news…and that no news was good news.”

  I’m trying to keep my expression calm, because I don’t want to just blurt out that this whole thing sounds like a setup. A setup by Harrison Shaw to get Ellen in trouble, so I keep my voice completely calm when I ask, “What exactly did Harrison say? Can you remember word for word?”

  Ellen sighs. “Harrison said only that he’d checked Perry’s morning post and that we were all given the thumbs-up to pack our things. You know. So we could head off to our fun week at the beach.”

  “Actually, it was a long litany about how people were fooling around too much, not concentrating on photography, and how they should in fact have zero fun at the beach or in class until the work was completed.”