Katherine laughs reminding me she’s still here. "Minor? You've been stashing pastries away like you're preparing for a famine."
Avery blushes. "They're so much better over here."
Katherine drapes her arm over the back of Avery's chair to join in our conversation. "Avery is an amazing photographer. You should see all the camera equipment taking up space in her dorm room."
At some point, Rob materialized behind me. "That's brilliant! We were just talking about how the band needs new photos for marketing or whatever."
"Avery, Katherine, meet Rob, my best mate and our guitarist. Well, he also sings when we can convince him."
Rob squeezes my shoulder. "Aw, you're my bestie, too."
I roll my eyes. "He's right, though. We do need new photographs. Interested?"
She seems to completely light up. "I would love to." I realize photography is probably her passion like music is mine.
"Ace." Rob reaches over me to grab a scrap of paper and a pencil Eddie keeps in the middle of the table for trivia night. "Here is Liam's number. Let us know when a good time would be, and we'll make ourselves presentable. Some of us will, anyway."
I snatch the paper from his hand. "I can give her my number. Besides, I doubt she can read your chicken scratch. Avery, may I borrow your phone?"
Amusement is clear on her face as she hands it over.
"Just trying to move things along, Romeo. We have a show to finish. Ladies, nice to meet you." When the sound of Lei’s bass catches my attention, I know it’s time for the second half of our set.
"Tell Eric hello for me," Katherine replies.
"Sure thing." I hear Rob mutter, "And another one bites the dust," as he leaves for the stage.
Our fingers touch as Avery takes her phone back. I’m close enough to hear her quick intake of breath. My feelings exactly.
“Please stay?” I ask.
Her same hesitant expression returns. "Good luck."
As I watch her leave after the next song, I know I have to see her again. I’m glad we actually need new band photos, because even if we didn’t, we’re getting some.
Chapter Five
Avery
"If I have to hear about one more dead painter. Seriously, that was an hour-long lecture about someone who dropped dead almost two hundred years ago. He's clearly moved on, so should we,” Katherine complains as we walk away from campus.
"What did you think art history was going to be about?" I reply.
Katherine's voice rings out loudly among the otherwise quiet area. "I thought we would be walking around art galleries and checking out the locals, if you know what I mean."
"Yes, I know what you mean. And I don’t think you’ve missed a single opportunity to check out the locals.”
“Well, this may be my only college experience. I’m trying to soak it all up.”
“What are you talking about?” Katherine was our high school’s valedictorian, after all.
"I got wait-listed," Katherine says quietly.
"Wait-listed?" I ask, not sure I heard her correctly.
"By Columbia," she whispers. Although, no one is around to overhear. “I didn’t apply anywhere else.”
"Oh." I try to walk and look at her at the same time. "But that means you could still get in, right?"
"I guess, but the stigma of being wait-listed will follow me forever. I was just so sure I would get in.”
My eyes briefly flit down to her "Taylor Swift for President" t-shirt. I’m definitely in an alternate universe when someone like Katherine needs a pep talk from someone like me. "You were the only one in our high school to even be considered by an ivy-league school. I bet you're on the very top of that waitlist. They may be emailing your acceptance as we speak. And when you walk around campus no one will ever know you were on any kind of list."
"Why were we never friends in school?" she asks.
The question surprises me even more than learning she was wait-listed. I also can’t tell if she’s completely serious. Struggling to find the right words, I finally say, "I'm not close with many people."
"So, the typical ‘it's not you, it's me’ answer.”
“Actually, yes." A thousand times yes. Trinity only infiltrated my life by pure perseverance.
"Is it because of your dad?"
I can feel her unwavering gaze pointed directly at the side of my face. The question isn’t completely unexpected, but breath cages in my chest anyway. "What have you heard about my dad?"
Her eyebrows raise. "Nothing. That's the point. In a town where everyone knows about everything, you’ve always been a bit of a mystery.”
And I had mostly stayed a mystery all the way through high school. In a small town where gossip was rampant, not Meme or Trinity ever betrayed my trust. "My dad’s just not in the picture."
My phone pings, and I welcome the interruption when I see Liam’s name. Even though I may be reluctant about spending time with him, I’m not missing my chance to photograph him—I mean, the band—I’m not missing my chance to photograph the band.
"Who is bringing out your dimples right now?" Katherine asks.
I try to school my features but feel my cheeks heat anyway. "Liam’s just making sure we aren't lost."
"Liam could care less about photographs, but I bet you already know that. That’s why I’m here as your chaperone."
"Chaperone, really?" I reply.
Katherine gives me a brilliant smile that has no doubt slayed countless people everywhere. "Sure. Chaperone, wingman, sidekick, escort, bodyguard . . . I'm here for you. And if I happen to see Eric, it will be pure coincidence."
"Sure." I adjust the strap of my camera bag.
Katherine winks at me before throwing an arm over my shoulder. "I'm irresistible. Don't fight it."
Little does she know I’ve had years of practice keeping most people a skyscraper length away.
We stop in front of a grand two-story brick townhouse at the end of the street. It has a white-trimmed bay window on the first floor. “I think this is it.” The black iron fence in front is so beautifully intricate, I immediately take out my camera. The familiar sound of clicking blends in with the other noises around us.
I’m looking down at my camera to check the last photo, when the front door opening makes me look up. "Planning on taking pictures of us, too, or just this hunk of iron?" Liam greets me with an amused smile.
"It's a pretty awesome hunk of iron," I reply.
"She's totally kidding," Katherine says behind me.
"Actually, don't move," I tell Liam.
I think about Trinity and photos of British guys standing next to touristy crap. This isn’t really touristy, but it will make a great photo as Liam stands in the exact center of the arched entryway with his hands in his pockets. He wears a black t-shirt with Brotherhood printed in white letters and faded black jeans.
As I hold up my phone instead of my camera, Liam’s curious expression morphs into a smile as I snap a quick photo that I send to Trinity. It’s two o’clock in the afternoon here, so it should be morning for her. She replies immediately, but I tuck my phone away.
Liam walks down the steps towards us. “We can go around this way.”
As we follow him around the side of the townhouse, I’m a bundle of nerves, but that’s probably more about Liam than anything else. It’s not as if this is my first photography session or anything.
When we enter the courtyard, the space feels spacious but also intimate. It seems large enough for their townhouse and the one next door. A beautiful yet simple water fountain is in the center with two curved stone benches on each side. Vines crawl up most of the brick walls that frame the area. Unlit lights are wrapped around small trees and bushes.
When I look up, I can see a terrace off the second story with more unlit lights wrapped around a wooden pergola. As I turn towards the back wall, my breath catches. It’s been painted like a mural using every color of the rainbow. The design seems to have no rhyme or reason, but a
ll the colors flow together perfectly.
"It's something else, right?" Liam stands so close our arms almost touch.
"Incredible.” I focus on the mural and not the way my traitorous skin tingles as if it were trying to get closer to his. “But aren't they worried about preserving these older buildings?"
"Lei's family owns this house and the one next door where his grandmother lives. He convinced his parents to let him have a go at it." Liam motions over to the guy standing next to Eric and Katherine.
"That was nice of them."
He nods in agreement. "When you suggested a location that meant something to all of us, the choice was easy. We all love it out here.”
"It's perfect." Other than Lei's amazing mural, the best part is how the light streams through the courtyard. My job will be easy, and this is absolutely just a job. Well, a job I’m doing for free, so maybe more like charity.
Liam leads me over to the others where Katherine is already busy flirting with Eric.
“Hello, Avery.” Rob basically sings my name as we approach. His sandy-brown hair falls over his eyebrows even after he pushes it back. His eyes are the color of pennies, and his expression seems to carry an air of mischief, as if he’s always up to something.
“This is Lei,” Liam points to the guy with short inky-black hair as he waves and gives me a wide smile. He’s wearing a simple white t-shirt with fitted black jeans and black boots.
“And then Eric.” Eric, who is already enamored with Katherine, distractedly holds up his hand as if it’s roll call at school. It’s difficult to focus on anything except his obviously dyed white hair, but I do see the glint of a silver hoop in his nose as he turns to hear something she says.
“Ready to get started?” I ask them, already going into my professional photographer mode. Okay, so maybe I’m not technically a professional. I don’t have my own business or anything, but I’ve shot enough events around my small town to at least fake it.
We do various shots around the courtyard. Lei even drags a ladder out of storage, and I’m able to get an awesome shot as they sit around the fountain and look up into the camera. But all the magic happens in front of the mural, just as I knew it would.
“Just look straight ahead. I’ll take both smiling and non-smiling shots.” When I check my screen, I can’t help but smile.
Suddenly, I have four guys all around me also trying to peer at my camera's small screen. I smile at their enthusiasm as I show each of them the last photo.
Liam looks last after the other guys leave us alone. We’re standing so close I can practically count his eyelashes as he peers at the screen. His hand rests on top of mine where I hold the camera. I don’t know if it’s deliberate, but regardless, I feel breathless and warm all of the sudden.
"Avery, this is . . . you captured us perfectly."
When he looks up, our faces are a breath apart. His eyes briefly drop to my mouth then back to my eyes again.
It feels as if I stop breathing altogether, but I try to shrug it off. "This is what I do."
He shakes his head. "You mean, this is what you were meant to do.”
Even though I have no idea how to respond, I swallow down his praise and let it take root. "I still have to edit these. Then I'll send you a link. It should only take a day or two."
"That would work. Or you could show us in person. After all, those two have certainly hit it off."
I look over to where Katherine is sitting on Eric's lap while she takes a selfie of them both with her phone. "She has that effect on people."
"Except me." Liam’s gaze continues to hold mine.
I break eye contact first, and as I lower the camera, his hand drops off mine.
"You'll at least call me when the pictures are ready?" he asks.
I bend down to start putting my camera away. "Or I'll text you the link."
"I want to see you again." The seriousness of his tone makes me look up, and he offers his hand to help me stand.
I try to get my thoughts in order as his thumb caresses the top of my hand. "I'm sure we'll come to more of your shows." I look over at Katherine again, certain she’s already declared herself a Brotherhood fan for the summer.
He reluctantly lets go of my hand. "Good. I'll make sure to send you all the details." Uncertainty is written all over his face, but I can’t give him anything more.
That doesn’t stop me from spending the rest of the night remembering how his hand felt on mine, though.
Chapter Six
Liam
One of my earbuds is pulled out as I’m walking through campus after my Roman history class. When I see Rob, I immediately stop and take out the other one.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he says while trying to catch his breath.
My brows knit together at his anxious tone. “We got out of class late.” I notice he doesn’t carry a bag or books with him. “Don’t you have class right now?”
His answering nod is more frantic than usual. “Yeah, listen, do you have a minute?”
“Of course, what’s wrong?”
"The agency called this morning about my father. He wants to see me again." He pushes his hands through his hair and paces a tad in front of me.
I reach out to stop him. "What? Why?"
He shrugs. "They weren't very specific."
"What did you say?"
"I said I would release my contact information, but that’s it.” Rob is easy-going by nature, but right now, he’s a mess of nervous energy.
“How would you feel if he did come to the house?” I ask.
“He won’t.” Rob starts walking.
I follow, trying to keep up with his long strides. “Even though he’s calling the agency?” I ask.
“He’s not the sort of bloke that will actually follow through with anything.”
I grab his elbow to maneuver us around a group of students.
“I’m not worried,” he continues.
He’s clearly forgotten how well I know him, because he’s obviously worried.
“I just don’t understand. Why now? He’s had plenty of time to reach out. What’s changed?” He abruptly stops. “Not that I care.”
I stop, too. “It’s alright if you do.”
He crosses his arms, but then his expression turns vulnerable. “He doesn’t deserve it.”
“If you do care, it only means you’re a good person, not that he has to be.” I take Rob’s shoulder and pull him in for a brief hug. I can feel some of his tension ease.
“Thanks, mate.” He steps back. “I’m going to wait for Emily to get out of class.”
I nod. “Just call me if you need anything.”
He takes off so fast, it feels as if I have whiplash from the quick yet potentially life-changing conversation.
As I continue walking through campus, I’m so distracted by thoughts of Rob’s father showing up at our house, I almost miss the clicking sounds of a camera. Almost.
I continue following the sounds until I find someone lying down in the grass a few feet away taking photos of the flowers growing up the side of a building. Two things make me sure it’s Avery—wavy brown hair fanned out in every direction and bravery to walk on Oxford’s precious grass to get the perfect shot.
Avery texted me a link for the edited band photos two days ago, and they are nothing short of incredible. I texted her back but got radio silence in return. I should probably take the hint. Instead, the engraved sign stares at me as I step over the hanging black chain to join her.
I’m standing directly over her before she notices me. Instead of lowering her camera like I expect, she snaps a few photos of me looking directly down into the lens. So, I look into the lens just like I would look into her eyes. One of the things I’ve guessed about Avery is her view of the world is directly connected to her camera.
“Willing to risk walking on the grass over some wisteria?”
She lowers the camera, and her beautiful face comes into view. “I thought that’s wh
at this is called.” She motions to the purple flowers.
I nod as I breathe in the sweet smell that reminds me of the garden at my parent’s cottage. “I helped my mum plant some a few years ago.”
I briefly look around as I set my bag down anticipating a porter to jump out any moment yelling at us with a megaphone. It happens. I’ve witnessed it myself.
She laughs quietly. “It’s just grass.”
“You realize only professors are given free reign to walk on the grass here.” The prickly grass in question meets my bare arms as I lie down beside her.
“And you realize that’s insane, right? To answer your question, yes, I’m willing to risk it. Just look up.”
I follow her line of sight to the cascading flowers in various shades of purple hanging down above us.
She lifts her camera back to her face. “It’s like they’re reaching down petal by petal to get closer to us.” A quick succession of clicking sounds fills the space around us.
I try to see what she sees. “They’re just flowers to me.” And then I wonder if she sees me differently, like the way she sees the petals.
Avery moves the camera away from her face and carefully passes it to me. “Look.”
I look at the last photo she took. The way the light hits the petals, it does look as if they’re reaching towards us. I pass the camera back. “Like I said, you have a gift. Just like the band photos. They’re so good we’re arguing over which one to display first on our website.”
Her answering smile reaches her eyes. “I’m glad you all like them.”
“And I texted you back about our next show.”
She nods. “I saw. As long as there’s nothing planned with the study-abroad program, we’ll be there.”
“I hope so.”
“I still don’t see how you get away with playing the violin and singing in a band. Those two things seem opposite in the music world. The little I know about it, anyway.”
I start to pick at the grass, but then immediately stop when I realize what I almost did. "You’re right. They’re two very different career paths.” And one of them takes me away from the band, which makes me think of Rob again.
Please Stay for Me (The Brotherhood Series) Page 4