Which was okay with me.
I slid close to him on the bench. My thigh pressed his. “Sorry,” I said.
“I’ll manage.” He freed his arm from where my body was pinning it to his side. He accidentally, maybe, brushed my breast, then laid his arm along the back of the booth.
Around me, sort of.
He smelled like cologne.
My body vibrated with excitement at having him so near. I couldn’t take a deep breath to calm myself, because he would notice—and I would likely faint in a cologne-induced swoon. I had to concentrate to keep my hands from shaking as I moved aside the plates, then turned the napkin holder on its side as a platform for the camera. “I may have to do several trial runs to get us centered,” I apologized.
“It’s not torture, Harper.”
“Ha ha, okay.” I had never felt so nervous. I set the camera to take five frames in rapid succession on a time delay, then placed it on top of the napkin holder. “Smile when you see the red light, and keep smiling,” I told him.
We watched the camera, but my eyes naturally focused on the bright windows beyond it. I wondered if anybody we knew was eating here and watching us. Maybe they’d tell Kennedy that Brody and I had been up to something suspicious. He would break up with me. It would all be for nothing, because Brody would stay with Grace. But as long as the windows filled my vision, I couldn’t see the other restaurant patrons. If I couldn’t see them, they weren’t there.
Only Brody was in my world right now.
The red light blinked on. The camera flashed five times.
I retrieved the camera and showed Brody the view screen. With our heads close together, we looked down at our heads close together in the photos, too.
I had a dumb moment when I thought I’d opened the wrong file. I hadn’t recognized myself with my glasses off and my hair down, cuddling with Brody. He looked perfect with a genuine smile, as usual, but half my head was cut off. I put the camera back to try again.
This time Brody moved his arm down from the back of the booth to my shoulder, with his hand holding my upper arm.
The camera flashed.
We peered at the screen. I was grinning at the camera. Brody was looking at me.
“Oh, God,” he said. “I look so lovelorn.” He sounded amused, not mortified like I would have been if I’d gotten caught gazing moonily at him.
“Or like you’re in pain from a possibly, probably not, broken finger.”
He laughed. “Or a concussion. Or indigestion. Sure.”
Sawyer arrived at our table. He did not have good timing. Brody and I both saw him in the same instant and tried to move away from each other. In such a small booth, there was nowhere to go. Brody removed his hand from my arm.
Sawyer laid our bill on the table very slowly, as if he was trying not to startle us again. “Whatcha doing?” he asked innocently. Sawyer was anything but.
I glanced at Brody. His lips were pressed into a thin line. He gave me a small shake of the head: Don’t tell him. But I was the world’s worst at coming up with lies, and I couldn’t think of another way out of this. The truth seemed like the best policy.
“We’re taking our Superlatives picture for the yearbook,” I admitted. “Want to see?” I slid the camera across the table.
Sawyer peered at the view screen. “Wow,” he said. “You’re trying to break up with your girlfriend and your boyfriend?”
I was sure my face flushed beet red. I didn’t dare look at Brody. I only told Sawyer, “The yearbook won’t come out until May.”
Sawyer put his tray down on the table and his hands on his hips. “Harper Davis, are you telling me that you’re dating a guy you assume you won’t still be with in eight months? Why are you with him at all, then? Girl, life is too short.”
The truth was, I did assume I wouldn’t still be with Kennedy in eight months. I’d been cured of any expectation for the future yesterday, when I pictured us sitting together on a college quad. No, thanks. I didn’t want to admit this in front of Brody, though, when his long-term relationship with Grace wasn’t at issue.
I nodded to the camera and asked Sawyer, “You’re saying Kennedy would be mad if he saw this photo of Brody and me? We’re not doing anything wrong.”
“Oh, sure,” Sawyer said. “You can tell the picture is taken here at the Crab Lab. You’ve shot all the others in the courtyard at the school. You’re making me take mine in the courtyard tomorrow. The only reason you’re taking this one here is so you two have an excuse to see each other alone.”
I opened my mouth to defend us, but nothing came out, because there was no defense. I hoped Brody could think of something.
He didn’t say anything either. He just slid his hand onto my thigh—not high enough toward my crotch to be dirty, but much more familiar than two people taking an innocent photograph for school. Kind of like patting my hand in reassurance as Sawyer gave me the third degree, except on my thigh.
Sawyer couldn’t see under the table. “To answer your question, Harper,” he said, “I don’t give fuck one what Kennedy thinks.” He turned to Brody. “I’ve had the pleasure of spending a lot of time with Grace lately during PE. She’s going to shit a brick when she sees this picture.” He picked up his tray. “There’s no charge.” He headed for the kitchen.
We watched him go, speechless.
“I think he meant no charge for the advice,” I finally said. “There’s no way he’s eating the cost of the food.” Reluctantly I slid off Brody’s seat and returned to mine, taking the camera with me. I pulled a few bills out of my purse.