Page 77 of The Originals


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The waves crash; I shiver in the ocean breeze. Neither of us speaks for a few more moments.

“Can I take some pictures of you?” Sean asks sweetly. I smile and nod, happy to be moving on from the day’s heavy discussion to do something light.

We spend the next two hours snapping shot after shot. I climb onto a low rock and he takes a series of pictures of me standing there like a warrior. I sit on a log, legs outstretched, and Sean snaps a few close-ups of my face. I take off my shoes and consider wading into the water until I realize it’s too chilly. He takes a few photos of my toes before I put my shoes back on. I drop into the sand and laugh as Sean click, click, clicks from every angle, eventually having to use a flash when the fall day grows dark.

I feel silly at first, but Sean’s encouraging words put me at ease. I’ve never had an interest in modeling—or the size-zero frame that goes with it—but with Sean peering out from behind the camera, it feels much more intimate than just taking pretty pictures.

It feels more like making out.

I roll to my side in the sand, head propped on my hand. Sean’s on his stomach next to me, camera pointed at my face.

“Are you glad you came over today?” I ask softly. The waves crash.

“More than glad,” Sean says from behind the camera. “Thankful.” Click.

“Truly?” I ask. “Because you did hide for two hours.”

“I just needed to think about everything,” he says. “To let it sink in.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I’ll probably do that when I try to go to sleep tonight. It was a pretty big deal for me.”

“I know it was,” he says. “Are you glad you did it?”

“Yes,” I say without hesitation.

“Good,” he says, putting the camera back up to his face. “I do have one question, though.”

My heart skips; it’s the tone of his voice.

Click.

“You said Betsey does evening stuff,” he says.

“Yes,” I answer, half smiling.

Click.

“Football games are in the evening.”

“Oh, really?” I feign surprise.

Click.

“There’s one game in particular I’m curious about,” Sean says, still from behind the camera.

“It was me,” I whisper just before the waves crash.

Sean lowers the camera and pulls the lens cap out of his pocket. He snaps it on and sets the camera aside. Then he scoots over to me. With his face two inches from mine, he whispers:

“Prove it.”

And I do.

fourteen

The next day after school, I’m driving down the road when Mom’s driving up. When we pass each other, I see that she’s wearing her scrubs, so she must be going to work. I get a flash of nervous excitement, wondering if I should take the opportunity to check out her secret office during the day. I make a split decision to do it; I pull over and turn around.

Mom’s so far ahead of me I can’t see her, but then halfway down the hill, I notice her turning in the opposite direction of work.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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