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Isabelle laughed, and the sound made my stomach flip. “Yeah, something like that.”
I lurked awkwardly, still unsure whether to keep talking or leave her alone. I’m pretty sure I looked like some kind of pervert, hanging around outside a pretty girl’s bedroom, but I wanted to talk to her, I couldn’t bring myself to move. Isabelle sat up, crossing her legs, and said, “Would you like to hide out in here for a while?”
I smiled. “Can you protect me from the scary girl?”
“I can’t promise anything. She’s very persistent and she usually gets whatever she wants.”
Her words didn’t fill me with enthusiasm. I really didn’t want to spend all my time in England hiding from Mischa.
“I hope she finds something else she wants. Fast,” I said, stepping into Isabelle’s bedroom.
It would have been way too forward to sit next to her on the bed. Instead, I sat down on her desk chair.
She looked sweet sitting there in blue jeans, and a white t-shirt that hugged her curves in a way I wished I hadn’t noticed. Trying not to stare at her was always difficult, but even more so once my brain had registered the clinginess of her top. “So, what did you and Hunter do today?” she asked. “Besides playing Mario.”
“We had another quiet day, hanging out around Notting Hill. Jetlag has been a bitch, but tomorrow we’re heading out into the city. We have to do some touristy stuff, like Buckingham Palace, and Big Ben for Hunter’s school project.”
“Hunter has to do a project?”
I nodded. “Yeah. His school only let him come over here with me if he promised to turn it into an assignment, so we’re gonna learn some stuff about the history of London. We want to get it done soon so we can enjoy the rest of our time here.”
“Well, if you need any help, let me know. I’m pretty good with history.”
“Thanks, I think Hunter will take any help he can to get this over with. I told him we couldn’t go for a beer until he finished his homework.”
Isabelle laughed. “Very responsible, I’m impressed!”
“Someone needs to keep him in check!”
“That’s true.”
See, this is easy. She’s not scary at all. Not that I ever thought she was scary. She was too shy to be scary, but she was much easier to talk to than I thought she’d be.
“Did you have a good day?” I asked. “Wait …I don’t even know what you’re studying.”
“English literature, English language, sociology, and photography.”
“Photography? Awesome, do you have anything you can show me?”
Her face flushed again. “I have a portfolio. My stuff isn’t very good, though.”
“Oh come on now, I don’t believe that. But,” I added, not wanting to push her, “if you don’t want to show me, it’s okay.”
She smiled, and stood up. “I’ll show you, but, you can’t laugh, okay?”
“Why would I laugh? What do you take photos of?”
Isabelle chuckled as she pulled out a folder from underneath her bed, and laid it out on the bed. “Come and see.”
I stood up, and went to sit beside her, trying to keep my eyes on the photos, not on her.
Isabelle opened the folder, and talked me through shots of nature, still life, and digitally enhanced photos. With every page turn, I became more and more astonished by her talent. She was way more than just a pretty face. When she reached the last page, a loose photograph fell out of the folder. Isabelle gasped, and quickly tried to snatch it away, but not before I caught a glimpse.
“Wait,” I laughed. “Why are you trying to hide that?”
“Because it’s of me so … obviously I couldn’t have taken it and you wanted to see my work.”
“Isabelle, come on. I already saw some of it. Show me.”
