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I stride through the cemetery in my leggings and hoodie, aware of how the night air is starting to cool off quickly now that we’ve hit late October. With Halloween tomorrow and my only plan being to possibly stream, the only thing I can hope for is to finish this tonight.
My eyes flick around the cemetery as I walk, looking for any tombs or structures that will make for good pictures. I need ten to present, but I obviously intend to take at least triple that.
As my feet scuff along the grass, I look up to see a tourist group weaving through the cemetery. I can tell it’s one of St. Augustine’s famous ghost tours by the way the guide’s voice risesand falls, putting emphasis on certain parts of his story about the people that are buried there.
And here I had thought I wouldn’t run into them until night had well and truly fallen. Don’t they know that seeing ghosts works better once the sun has set?
Pausing, I realize that I’m feelingwatched. I suck in a few breaths, closing my eyes hard, and turn to see if it’s a ghost or just an unwelcome guest staring at me.
It’sOliver. I stare at him, taking in his hunched shoulders and his hands that are jammed into his pockets. He looks so apologetic that I almost believe it, and his face is full of concern that’s plain to anyone in a ten-mile radius.
My eyes search his expression and his posture. I clench the gifted camera more tightly in one hand, surprised that he hasn’t snuck up to grab me or start suggesting ideas for my shoot.
But he just watches me, half-forlorn and a little bit hopefully, like a puppy I’ve kicked that still comes back. The thought makes me frown, because I don’t ever want to feel like that. I don’t deserve to feel like that after what Oliver did. He’s the one in the wrong.
So why do I feel so guilty?
“How did you know I was here?” I ask suspiciously, scuffing my foot along the ground.
A soft smile curls his lips. “Lucky guess?” he admits, raising his shoulders and letting them drop. “Well, I’ve been coming here every night. Except for last night, since it was raining. I figured that since you weren’t in class today, you were coming here instead.”
I hesitate, still unsure. “Aren’t you supposed to be streaming?”
“I would, but you’re more important.” He takes a step toward me, looking like he’s trying to be careful and nonchalant about it, then another. “Can I help you?”
I should tell him no. He’s putting on an act for me right now, and I absolutely have every right to tell him to fuck right off. Especially until I figure out how I feel and what I’m going to do.
But I really want a good grade. The thought makes me wince, because I already know that I’m going to let him help me. And unfortunately, I can’t quite convince myself that it’s only because he’s good at photography.
“Besides, you want some good sunset shots,” Oliver adds, like he needs more of a selling point. “And you’re about to miss it. I can help you frame them, and I have some ideas for your vision, if you want my help with it.”
I let out a breath, close my eyes, and say, “Oliver, why are you acting like you’re a six-month-old golden retriever I’ve punted across the kitchen?”
He takes a moment to respond, but when I open my eyes, I see the grin curling at his lips. “Because I’m willing to do anything to earn your forgiveness?”
“Forgiveness?” I stride closer to him so I can speak more quietly, so close that I’m almost pressed against his chest. “Oliver, you are going around andmurderingpeople who look like my roommate.”
Of course, he doesn’t have the decency to look offended, but I hadn’t really expected him to. “Yeah,” he agrees, reaching out to tuck my hair behind my ear as he says, “But it’s only so I don’t kill your best friend. I’m doing my best here, wonder girl. I had to make some kind of compromise since I didn’t want to hurt you.”
That’s certainly an interesting twist on it. I start to reply, but he leans forward so his lips brush my ear. “But if you wait much longer and yell at me instead of taking photos, you’re going to miss about half your shots.” He nudges my hand that’s holding the camera, and I let out a frustrated breath.
It’s unfortunate that he’s right. I lift the camera toward him, eyes a little bit mournful, as I silently ask for his help, but Oliver just chuckles and shakes his head. “Oh, no, I don’t think so. You’re still taking them; I’m just here to assist you. I’m your sexy assistant, actually.”
“If you were, you’d be wearing less,” I mutter, watching as he walks toward the gazebo-like structure in the middle of the area we’re in. When he hears me, he wiggles his hips, and I can’t help but roll my eyes.
“Look at these.” He points at the structure and the tombstone behind it, launching into an explanation about depth of field and how I can make things look more interesting. I nod along with what he says, taking pictures from the angles he suggests as the sun dips lower and lower over the horizon.
Finally, when it’s dark, we end up using a combination of street lamps and our phones to set up some kind of dramatic lighting. It isn’t cinema quality by any means, but that was never what I was going for.
“Last one?” I ask, lying on my stomach on the ground to take an upward shot of a towering obelisk. Our light and the shot angle make it look larger, more commanding than it is in real life, and the cracks along it are accentuated perfectly.
I barely notice Oliver moving until he lies down on the ground beside me and rolls over to his back with a sigh. “Are you okay?” he inquires, staring up at the sky as I look down at my camera. My body is tense where it presses against him, and I play the night I’d ended up at his apartment over and over in my head.
Somehow, when I’m just thinking about it, I no longer feel as awful about the whole thing as I had, and that’s a little worrying to me.
“Why?” I sigh, going through the pictures while being hyper aware of him beside me. “Why wouldn’t I be, actually?”
“Well, I understand you’re upset with me. I guess I can’t really fault you for that, huh?” he chuckles the question into the cool air above our heads, and I don’t think it requires an answer. “But it’s more than that. You’re quiet, and you aren’t yourself. You haven’t been streaming at all. But you don’t have another job, do you?”
