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“Yeah, she managed to make you look presentable.” He laughs. “Who is she anyway?”
I read the end of the caption, even though I already know. “Photographs taken by Lucy Kennedy.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell,” he says as he rummages through the pantry.
“This coming from the guy who doesn’t ask what their name is before sleeping with them.”
“Hey, your captain has needs.” Neil laughs.
“Let me see,” Winston says, sitting across from me. I hand him the paper.
“You said Kennedy?” Neil adds, seeming to think about something.
“Yeah, why?”
He turns to face me with a box of poptarts in one hand. “I wonder if she’s the little sister of the Kennedy brothers. You know them, right?”
Everyone on campus knows that trio. Patrick is a junior, Jonathon is a senior, and Corey graduated last spring. They are all football players and some of the best in the college league, although Corey was injured in his last season and can no longer play. I vaguely remember hearing that they are crazily protective of their baby sister. I nod in acknowledgement to Neil.
“That may be who she is then.”
“Who who is?” Bo asks, walking into the kitchen.
“Lucy Kennedy, the girl taking pictures yesterday. We think she’s the sister of the Kennedy brothers,” Neil informs him, going back to find something else.
“The football players? I wouldn’t know. I don’t like football.” Bo shrugs.
“Well, I need to study and do homework, so I'll catch you guys later.”
Even though, Neil and Bo leave the house on Sundays, I still go to the library to study. I want A’s, and that's where I can focus the best. Plus, Mom will kick my ass if my grades slip. Dad cares about hockey. Mom cares about my education. Well, they care about both, really. It’s just Mom gets on me about school, and Dad hounds me about hockey. So instead of partying it up all night, I’ll spend most of my time at the library.
I wrap up things here and head to the gym. Exercising is one of my favorite things to do. I love the burn, the sweat, and the satisfied feeling I get after a grueling workout. I even love the semi-cold shower I take afterwards to cool my body down. Sometimes, I think there's nothing better in this world than that. My free time is basically divided between being on the ice, in the gym, or in the library. I end up being there for a couple hours, finishing in time to shower and go grab a late lunch.
After that, I walk across campus to the library. The guys would murder me if they found out exactly how much I like to read. People will assume I’m working on something for school if I’m in the library. Plus, it minimizes the distractions. I need silence to read and study. The library is perfect for both. I find a table in a corner, knowing the foot traffic will be minimal there and take a seat.
My backpack sits unopened next to my chair, slouching against a leg of the table, as I crack open my historical fiction book. Those are my favorite with an occasional memoir. I lean back in my chair, rest the book in my lap and against the table, and begin to read. Roughly two hours pass while I’m lost in a WWII battle when I hear the slightest clicking sound. My eyes flick up, searching the area for the source of the distracting noise. There’s no one in front of me and nothing but rows of books.
I hear it again and turn my head to the left, looking down the aisle. My eyes land on the only possible source. A camera lens is focused on me, a pale and slender finger on a silver button, pressing down. Familiar black hair falls over her shoulders as she crouches. If she was next to me, she would be eye level with the table.
What the hell? Why is she taking pictures of me? As if she now realizes I’m looking, the camera slowly lowers to reveal fiery red cheeks and large, surprised to be caught, blue eyes. Lucy stands upright with all the confidence she can muster and walks over. My mouth stays shut as she takes a seat next to me and fidgets. I watch her, wary because she was sneaking pictures of me for no good reason.
“I’m sorry,” she says in a library appropriate voice. The camera sits in her lap, the black strap hanging from her neck to hold it in place. Although, it’s pointless because her hands never leave the damn thing. “You were perfect for a shot, and I couldn’t resist. I take pictures of people all the time, but they never really notice. Do you want to see it?”
The pale blue shirt she’s wearing makes her eyes look even brighter. Lucy glances down at the camera, pressing buttons. I still don’t say anything because I don’t know what to make of her taking pictures of me. Is she some crazy chick or something? But then she holds up the camera, turning it to me so I can see the image on the screen.
There I am, slouched in my seat, one hand at the top of the spine. She caught me biting my nail, something I didn’t even realize I was doing. Even though it’s a side shot, you can tell that I’m focused on the book.
“I can delete them if you want,” she adds, bringing the camera back to her lap.
“Them?” I question, finally speaking. “There’s more than one?”
Lucy looks guilty as a blush flashes on her cheeks again. She presses another button and shows another photo of me, but this time, I’m looking at her. It was when I turned to find out what was making the subtle noise. Her thumb presses again, and there’s another of when I lifted my head.
“How long were you there?” I ask.
“Not long. I think there’s only two more shots, but those are from over there.” She lifts her hand and points to where I first looked. “I moved to try a different angle.
I was going to tell you afterwards, though,” she rushes to explain. “If I had interrupted you, then the shot would have been messed up. People change if they know they are having their picture taken. I’m sorry,” she repeats.
