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“It’s fine. Good luck with the showing?”
“Thanks.”
And with that, she’d said goodbye and walked off. She glanced behind her once and waved. I’d waved back, still pretty much rooted to the spot, then had gathered my books and phone and headed to where I’d been going in the first place across campus.
I’d barely paid attention to the seminar, getting a friend of mine to send me the notes after. I sat on the steps, my phone in hand, looking Abbie up and trying to see what show it was she was helping to set up.
The photography club was having a show.
I’d scanned the website and found her name.
Abbie Thornton…
She was an up-and-coming photographer, had won a few awards that semester, and her work was going to be shown along with a dozen others that weekend.
I checked the times—I was free. Even if I hadn’t been, I was going anyways.
***
I’d waited patiently ’til five o’clock Saturday when the showing opened. I’d dressed casually in jeans and a button-down shirt, shaved off the stubble I’d been wearing for over a week, and headed to the showing on campus.
Abbie had been taking tickets at the door, her back partially to me as I walked into the gallery space, her hair down and wavy, reaching her midback. She had on a short-sleeved black dress, knee-high black boots, looking every bit perfectly suited to the gallery atmosphere.
“I recognize you.” She greeted me with a warm smile as I finally stepped forward towards her after the small group she’d been chatting with stepped farther into the space.
I swore her eyes lit up a little as she smiled at me.
“Good thing or bad?” I asked, my hands in my pockets while fighting back a smile of my own.
“Good. Are you a photography fan?”
“A little.”
Okay, a little lie.
I really had never paid much attention to photography up to that point in my life.
I couldn’t tell the difference from one camera or one lens from another. Something that would soon change with Abbie in my life.
She nodded easily, then motioned to someone behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see a couple in their early twenties standing there, tickets in hand.
“Sorry...” I said quickly and moved out of the way so she could take their tickets and suddenly felt embarrassed. “I didn’t know I needed a ticket.”
I should have perused the site a little more than just her bio.
“It’s to help cover the space,” she explained.
I nodded. “Are they sold out?”
Just my luck they would be.
She laughed, and I noticed her eyes twinkled and I didn’t think it was a trick of the overhead lighting.
“You really aren’t a photography fan, are you? We have a ton left.” She put the tickets in her hand into a neat stack and wrapped an elastic from around her wrist around it then went over, sticking it behind a small desk in the corner.
I smiled as I followed her over, taking out my wallet to buy my ticket, anything to spend more time with her.
And that’s when our friendship began. I’d taken her for a drink later, a hot chocolate from one of the stands and we’d walked and talked and gotten to know each other.
