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How could I forget? It was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. The most vulnerable I’ve ever felt.
“Yes. Vicky won the competition, right?”
I was happy for her. Vicky was a talented photographer, and her stuff was good. She deserved it.
“Yes, she did. Her work fit the exhibition the best. But I recently had lunch with Angie, my gallery owner friend, and she brought up your photos.”
My throat tightens at her words. “Oh?”
“I think the wordsstunningandcouldn’t get them out of her mindwere the ones she used when we talked about them.” Professor Reyes places her hands on the table and clasps them together. “She wants them.”
“What?” I shake my head, unsure if I heard her correctly. She wants them? As in… buy them? “I’m not sure I’m following.”
Professor Reyes smiles at me. “She wants to do an exhibition of your work. Just your work, Jade.”
* * *
“Sorry,”I say as I slide into the seat opposite Grace’s. “Professor Reyes wanted to talk to me after class.”
Grace’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “She didn’t bitch about you missing classes because if she did, I’ll go right there and show he—”
“No, she didn’t,” I say quickly before Grace really gets into it. “She wants my photos. Well, her friend, the gallery owner, wants my photos.”
I still couldn’t believe it.
My photos.
In a gallery.
“Of course they want your photos.” Grace waves me off like it’s a given. She grabs her cup, but her hand stops halfway to her mouth. “Wait, what photos?”
“The self-portrait.”
Her eyes turn into saucers, her mouth falling open. “Thosephotos?”
“I know.”
“Even I haven’t seen them, and they want to put them in the gallery?”
“I know.”
Nobody has seen the photos. Well, except Professor Reyes and her friend. Those photos weren’t for anybody else but me.
Or so I thought, but now…
“Did you agree?”
I bite my lip and shake my head no.
“What? Are you crazy? This is an opportunity of a lifetime!”
“I know,” I repeat, letting out a sigh.
It was crazy. This kind of opportunity didn’t present itself on any given day. Photographers had to work for years, and even then, some of them never saw their photos hanging on the gallery walls. Not to accept this would be career suicide, but accepting it…
“If it were any other work, I wouldn’t think twice about it, but it’s me, Grace. It’s me at my most vulnerable. To see those photos exposed like that, let people see them. Seeme.” I shake my head. “I don’t think I can do it.”
Grace’s hand covers mine. “I know. It’s okay if you don’t want to do it. If it’s too soon. Too raw.”
