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“Then it’ll be even more of a challenge,” I said, forcing a smile to my face.
I picked a popular dance that I knew would keep me in the moment. I told Morgan the song to play. Then as the music started, I moved to it.
Beside me, Gabriel wasn’t moving.
He stared straight ahead as still and stoic as I’d ever seen him. He didn’t try to mimic my movements. He didn’t even look at me.
“I don’t dance,” he said again.
I stopped swaying my hips. I stopped moving my arms. I turned to him.“You could try.”
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t move. He just kept staring straight ahead at the camera.
With a sigh, I walked across the room and retrieved my phone from the tripod. “Forget video. We’ll stand near each other. Pretend not to hate me.”
I snapped photos of us with him over my shoulder, of the two of us on the sofa, and in the kitchen. Morgan snapped some with her phone too.
I didn’t need to see the reel to know every single image was terrible. If anything, the longer we were at it, the more statuesque Gabriel became.
Finally I called it and packed up. I told Gabriel, “I’ll check out the footage and post and tag you with whatever is the best.”
“Do you have a Socialface account?” Morgan asked him.
“The marketing people made one for me,” he said.
“We’ll try again tomorrow,” I told him.
Something like concern flashed across his face. “I can’t tomorrow. I have plans.”
“Great. I’ll assume these plans include doing something besides standing like there is a pole up your backside holding you in place. Seeing you in the world will be good for people. We’ll have better luck.”
“I can’t tomorrow,” he said again.
A small spark of concern flitted through my stomach. He knew the photos were garbage as well as I did. But I couldn’t let him quit. I needed to lock him in to see me again.
He went to the door, and opened it.
“How about after you’re done with your plans?” I said. “We’ll do like today, and get together after. Maybe you have some gardens or something outside that will work better.”
Gabriel said nothing.
Morgan helped me carry the equipment to the door. Gabriel stepped forward, forcing us to step back, and outside.
“I appreciate your effort, Ms. Hartley,” Gabriel said. Then he shut the door in my face.
We stood under the porch light, surrounded by darkness. A billion things filled my head, most of all frustration.
“Bah!” I called out into the night. “We got two things, jack and sh?—”
“I saw plenty.” An elfish grin crossed Morgan’s face. “And I recorded the evidence.”
“You think you got a picture where he doesn’t look like he’s been frozen in carbonite?”
“I did. I got a bunch. And they’regood.”
When we were back in the car, we flipped through my photo reel first, and found exactly what I expected—nothing. But Morgan’s photos were an entirely different beast. She’d captured candids between takes.
I stared at a photo from the kitchen. Gabriel’s back was turned to the camera. I was pressed against his side, my hands cupping his face, my lips slightly parted as I stared at his mouth.
