by Riley Rivers
He raised his hand anyway, hoping, and Green actually made eye contact with him again. Cameron tried to get across how desperately he wanted to be called on, but Green’s gaze just slid away and he called on someone else.
Cameron swallowed and lowered his hand, trying not to feel hurt. It was stupid to feel hurt. Green had no obligation to call on him just because Cameron had gotten a few problems right. Just because they’d… exchanged a couple of looks or whatever it wasn’t like it meant anything. Certainly not to someone as important as Green was.
But he still couldn’t help thinking of it as an obvious snub.
He didn’t bother raising his hand again. Didn’t much feel like looking up, either. Instead he kept his attention focused on his notebook as he listened to Green answer other students’ questions. A lot of the questions were good ones, and Cameron dutifully scribbled down tips covering everything from getting into the industry to lighting technique choices. The half hour seemed to fly by, and then Lisa was thanking Green and letting the class go on break.
Cameron fiddled with his mechanical pencil as a couple of his classmates approached their guest speaker, clearly thanking him personally for his time. He wanted to do the same, if only because the lecture had been really fun and informative up until the Q&A, but he also wasn’t sure he’d be welcome now, considering.
Fuck it, he decided, determinedly standing up. The worst he could get was a polite, disingenuous smile, right?
He was late in getting up though, and Green was already almost to the door to the back area as Cameron ran over. He ended up following him through, the door to the area’s hallway closing behind them.
“Hello again,” Green said, turning fully toward him. His voice was warm and personable, like he was welcoming Cameron to speak.
He was also way taller, standing right there in front of him.
Focus. “Um.” Cameron said rubbing his hands on his thighs. “I-I just wanted to say thank you. For you speaking to us. It was a really cool lecture.”
“The pleasure was all mine. I’m glad you enjoyed it. I was sorry to see your hand go down during the Q&A though. It seemed like you had some good questions ready.”
“Oh, I…” Cameron broke eye contact, fidgeting with his fingers. “Um, I… I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to talk anymore.”
“Oh,” Green said softly. Cameron jerked his head back up at the tone. “Cameron, no, of course not. I just felt I shouldn’t call on you first.” His smile turned rueful. “I didn’t want to look as though I was playing favorites.”
The relief should not have been as all-encompassing as it was, to know that Green wasn’t upset with him. “Oh,” Cameron said. “I, yeah, that makes sense. Sorry.” He bit his lip. Great. He’d missed out on asking questions for no reason. Stupid.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Sorry.”
“Are you sure?” Green asked.
Cameron went back to staring at the floor. “I just, um. You know. Wish I hadn’t missed my shot at asking you some stuff.”
“Tell you what,” Green said. “I’m free the rest of today. I’d be happy to meet with you when you’re done with class.”
Cameron’s eyes widened. “What? Really? Are you sure?”
“I can tell how much you care about the subject,” Green replied matter-of-factly. “I’m happy to help.”
Cameron’s mind whirled through his schedule. This class was done at noon, he had another class from two to four, then he had work at ten. He usually tried to get some sleep between his last class and going to work when he didn’t have pressing homework to do, and after six seemed really late anyway, to impose on Green’s time. He’d been hoping to work some more on his astronomy homework during his two hour break, maybe try to catch a nap, but he’d happily trade that time for a chance to get some one-on-one with a world famous photographer. “I’m done with this class at noon and have a break until two. Would anytime in there work?”
“Sure,” came the easy reply. “I could meet you at noon, when your class is done.”
“Great,” Cameron said enthusiastically. “Great, that’s… that would be really great.”
“But if that’s the case, I’d like to take you to lunch.”
Cameron blinked, startled and unsure if he’d heard correctly. “What?”
Green titled his head. “You’ve got class from nine to noon, and then another class at two. If you don’t eat then, when will you eat?”
“Oh, uh…” Cameron had long fallen into a pattern of not really eating meals. He had a variety of non-perishables he kept in his car and backpack to eat in order to keep him going, broken up by the sandwiches he was able to make with the family-sized jar of peanut butter he purchased and replenished as needed. And it was apple season again luckily; apples were cheap, on top of being easy to grab, plus they kept. Once a week he allowed himself to buy a mini bottle of juice of his choice to keep from getting scurvy. He made it work.
The silence stretched too long and he didn’t know what to do about it. “I—”
“Lunch,” Green said firmly. “My treat. Just tell me where you’d like me to meet you.”
Cameron wracked his brain to come up with the name of a decent sit-down eatery. “I… I don’t really know much about the places to eat around here,” he said at last, wanting to sink into the floor. Mostly he was in class, the labs, the library, or his car. He avoided the restaurants on principle. But for fuck’s sakes, this was his second year at this school; he should have been able to think of something.
“Okay,” Green said after another moment’s pause. “How do you feel about sushi?”
“That would be great, sure.” Cameron had never had sushi in his life. “I’m good with anything, pretty much.”
“Then why don’t we meet at Ronin Sushi? It’s just on Washington. Say 12:15, to give you time to get there after class?”
“Yeah,” Cameron said, relieved. “Yeah, that would be great. Thank you.”
Green nodded, looking distracted. Which of course, fuck, Cameron had been wasting his time for eons now. “Sounds good.” And then he smiled, like he was genuinely looking forward to it. “I’ll see you then.”
“Okay,” Cameron said dumbly in the face of that smile. “Thank you, Mr. Green. I… really. Thank you.”
Green shook his head. “Please, call me Ezra.”
Chapter Two
“Okay,” Cameron muttered to himself as he glanced at his phone for instructions on how to get to Ronin Sushi. “Okay, you can do this. You’ve got your questions, and he’s giving you his time. Just go and don’t be an idiot. You got this.”
Ronin Sushi was just a street down from the building his class had been held at. Easy to walk to, which was nice because it was a colder day and Cameron hadn’t layered up as much as usual because, since he was working extra shifts, he hadn’t managed to make time to get to the laundromat. The clothes he wasn’t currently wearing were all pretty rank. Though he could at least thank his lucky stars that he hadn’t decided to say fuck it and wear some of the in-dire-need-of-a-wash clothes today. He didn’t think he’d have been able to accept Ezra’s invitation if he’d had.
He was shivering by the time he reached the restaurant, hunched over and hands shoved deep in his pockets. The cold had woken him up a little though, which was good. He’d almost nodded off in the second half of his photography class after Ezra had left.
Cameron couldn’t imagine that his personal Q&A would take much more than half an hour or so. He’d figured on even less time to be honest, but with a meal involved, he wasn’t entirely sure about how things were going to go. Ezra was a busy man and probably had places to be. Even if he was nice enough to make a little time for Cameron now, Cameron wouldn’t want to keep him. So he’d have lunch—he definitely wasn’t going to complain about free food—and get to talk to Ezra, and after he’d probably still have about an hour or so before his next class. That would be enough time to catch a quick catnap in his car.
Maybe he’d even go commandeer one of the editing suites. They were great to sleep in, and he’d used them a lot last winter too, as it got colder out. And if anyone for some reason barged in on him and caught him passed out on the floor, all he had to do was say that he was just waiting for something to render. Rendering took forever.
He paused when he got inside, feeling a little out of his depth. The place didn’t feel fancy, exactly; it couldn’t be, not on a college campus, but it had an upscale vibe to it, all dark blue and dark wood. There was a hostess area, where a cheerful, put-together Asian woman smiled at him.
“How many?”
“Uh, two,” Cameron said, feeling off-kilter, “But I’m meeting someone. I don’t know if he’s here yet.”
“Would you like to go and see?”
“Sure. Thanks.” He tried not to look as though he felt stupid and out of place. It was just a restaurant. Sushi. He could do this. He could even use chopsticks in a pinch, thanks to the wonder that was cheap and good Chinese food, which he sometimes got when things weren’t too tight.
Something waved in his field of vision as he passed tables full of people, and he turned his head to find Ezra already seated in a booth. Right. Okay. Cameron made his way over.
“Thank you again,” he said at once as he shucked his backpack and set it down onto the seat before sliding in next to it. “For meeting with me. I hope you weren’t waiting? I came over straight from class.”
“I just got here myself,” Ezra said with a low, throaty chuckle that made Cameron feel warm all over. “And I’m glad I did. They’re filling up for the lunch rush. I hope you didn’t feel the need to hurry over.”
He absolutely had. It wasn’t hard not to say that. “My class was really close, so it was easy.” Wow. You idiot. “Which uh, you knew. Since you were just there. Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize. Here,” Ezra gestured to the menu. “Get whatever you’d like.”
“Oh,” Cameron said as he picked it up, both taken aback again at Ezra's generosity and nervous about picking the wrong thing. The latter feeling did not ease any once he opened the menu and saw just how many choices and options there were. He was immediately overwhelmed. Why was there always so much variety at restaurants? How was he supposed to narrow things down and pick something? “Oh.”
“Have you eaten here before?”
That would be a big no, Cameron thought. Easily explained by the prices. Like fuck, okay, food was expensive. He knew that. He got that. He easily spent most of what he made on food, after car stuff like insurance and gas money. It was even worse during warmer months, when he couldn’t refrigerate anything and so had to make do with his little cooler and ice to keep stuff even overnight. But upwards of $15 for a single meal, plus tip…
That was half a tank of gas. Three or four fast food meals. A month’s membership to the 24-hour gym that constantly saved his life.
God, he needed to get a grip. It was just lunch and it wasn’t a big deal. Things just seemed to be spinning because he was tired. “I haven’t, no,” he managed after what was probably too long.
“I haven’t been here in a while,” Ezra said, “But I remember their pad thai being very good.”
Cameron glanced back down at his menu. “It’s not just sushi?”
“No, they have a variety of Asian foods here. But if you’d prefer to have sushi–”
Cameron shook his head. “Pad thai sounds good. I’ll have that.”
Ezra smiled. “Great. And ah, there’s our waiter. What would you think to drink?”
“Just water,” Cameron said quickly. ”Thank you.”
Ezra’s eyes tracked Cameron’s face, making Cameron feel… very seen. “Are you sure?”
Cameron faltered. If it was a free meal and Ezra was asking… To their waiter, Geoff according to his nametag, he asked, “Do uh, do you have juice?” Might as well get some extra vitamins in.
“Sure. We have apple, grapefruit, and yuzu juice.”
“Yuzu?”
“It’s a citrus,” Geoff explained. “It’s similar to lemonade, though a bit more tart.”
That sounded like it could be pretty good. Cameron chanced a glance at Ezra, who nodded at him, still with that disarming smile. It felt like a permission. “Then I’ll have that, please. The yuzu.”
“Great! And your meal?”
“Oh, uh, the pad thai.”
The waiter scribbled that down. “What would you like your protein to be?”
“Protein?” Cameron asked, then winced. Could he look any less like he knew what he was doing?
“We have shrimp, chicken, or tofu.”
Oh, okay, at least that was easy. “Chicken, please.”
Geoff nodded. “Spice level?”
Oh my god, why are there so many questions. “Not… very.”
Geoff grinned. “Mild, then. Sure.” He turned to Ezra. “And for you?”
Ezra ordered a green tea and something called a dragon roll, and Geoff went to put in their order and grab their drinks.
In his absence and without that distraction, Cameron once again felt as though he was someplace he shouldn’t be, with Ezra looking calm and collected and effortlessly put-together, like the professional he was.
A professional who was giving Cameron a chance to talk to him. He wasn’t going to waste it by being awkward.
He fumbled for his bag and pulled out his notebook with his careful list of questions—the ones he couldn’t remember now for the life of him. He hurriedly turned pages to find them, fingers shaking slightly. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m just—thank you again for this, and for lunch.”
Ezra’s smile hadn’t dissipated, but it was definitely slightly smaller than before. It didn’t seem any less real, but Cameron had gotten really good at identifying concern.
At least it wasn’t pity.
He had to stifle a flinch just the same when Ezra opened his mouth, but it was a breath of fresh air to hear Ezra merely say, “you don’t have to be nervous. I’m happy to do it. You obviously care a lot about the craft.”
“Yeah,” Cameron said. “I mean, yeah, I do. It’s…” he exhaled slowly, trying to calm down and trying to think of the best way to put it. Sometimes he’d get too intense, when it came to photography, and he’d see those looks people always got on their faces when they thought someone was being too weird for them. Since it was clearly a crime to have an interest.
He switched tracks. “I like it a lot, yeah.”
Ezra tilted his head. “Why? What about photography does it for you?”
“Oh, um.” Not too intense. “It’s really awesome to be able to capture memories and tell stories with moments. I mean, a picture’s worth a thousand words, right? But that doesn’t do it justice. You can document the world, or make people feel emotions, or convince someone to buy something, or relive a memory and—” oh my god, stop talking “and I don’t know,” he ended up mumbling. “I like the idea of being a part of that. Getting to create like that.”
Ezra’s eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. “My mother is a hobbyist photographer. She went from disposable cameras to buying digital cameras, and passed along an old one to me when I was twelve. I spent two months that summer sitting very, very still and trying to take pictures of squirrels.”
“Oh,” Cameron breathed. “That’s so cool.”
“How about you?”
“I, uh—oh, thank you,” he told Geoff, as he was handed his drink. To Ezra he said, “I had parental influence too, kinda. My grandfather collected lenses, and my dad got his collection when he died. So he like, taught me all about them when I was a kid. So it was always kind of a part of me, I guess.” Which sounded so incredibly stupid and sappy. But it was a good memory from being a kid, and he didn’t have a lot of those. Even if he didn’t dwell on them all that much. Remembering the good times had him also remembering the times that came after.
Mostly he just tried not to remember.
“Your dad must
be really proud of you now, what with you going to school for it. Maybe put some of those lenses to use?”
It was a tease. An obvious, light-hearted tease, and forget how that made Cameron’s stomach flutter a little, it also— “I don’t know. He died when I was eight, so uh. So I don’t know. Maybe.”
Silence. Of course, because how was Ezra supposed to react to news like that? God, he really was tired. He normally didn’t just say stuff like that. Certainly not to people he’d just met, unless he needed the shock factor. But with Ezra it was just because he felt comfortable for some reason, but that was no excuse—
“Did your mother not keep the collection?” Ezra asked, sounding careful.
“She left before my dad died. I don’t know what happened to the lenses. Wish I did.”
More silence then, and Cameron stared at the table. For some reason he started to feel the prick of tears behind his eyes, and there was no excuse for that. He tried not to remember and he mostly didn’t let his mind drift back to when he was younger, but it was true that every so often he couldn’t help but think about that beautiful collection and watching as his dad cleaned the lenses and wondering what had goddamn happened to it, because it had been his Pupa’s, and then his dad’s, and it was supposed to be his.
Fuck, he was so tired. Focus. He took a sip of the juice. “Oh,” he said, partially because he was desperately casting about for things to say. “This is good.”
Ezra was silent for a moment before he smiled. “I’m glad you like it.”
Cameron nodded a bit too enthusiastically and took another sip that turned into more of a gulp. Ezra was just looking at him now, and… there wasn’t pity there; Cameron could detect pity a mile away. It seemed more serious than that. Not grave. But like Ezra was looking at him and seeing something new. He wasn’t sure what to do about it.
“I’m happy to see you kept your love for photography,” Ezra said after another minute. “Experiences can do a lot to change how someone feels about something. Even something they used to love.”
Cameron tried to crack a smile. Having something concrete to love was how he’d made himself survive. If he wanted to hold a camera in his hands again, he had to live to the next day, and the next. “It gave me a goal. Something to work for, you know?”