Beautiful Boy

by Leddy Harper

  Shari stilled and cocked her head my way, her facial features becoming taut as she watched me with curiosity.

  “If you edit his, Share, then your opinion may become slightly biased. Just show him how the program works; it doesn’t have to be anything fancy. I’m not doing anything in depth with mine. After all, they’re only pictures of you.”

  Shari spun to face Novah and pointed her finger in the air, holding her other hand on her hip. “Don’t get all lazy because it’s me. And I want the best picture taken, not necessarily the best-edited one. You should know the difference. You lecture me all the time about how Photoshop can only do so much, and the real work is in the shot. So whether I tweak it or not doesn’t make my opinion biased.”

  “Why do you want a picture of yourself, anyway?” I asked, earning her attention once more.

  She glanced over her shoulder at me and smiled. “This guy I’m seeing wants a Novah original of me. I told him I’d get him one. The winning shot will be framed for his office.”

  I blinked at her, the need to laugh becoming strong. I didn’t know much about this girl, but it didn’t take long to learn why she’d been Novah’s best friend. Speaking slowly and clearly, I said, “And you think when he asked for this, he meant a picture of you dancing around in a neon leotard?”

  “He wasn’t specific.”

  The laughter I’d had building up in my chest erupted, immediately followed by Novah’s and Shari’s infectious giggles.

  “Come on. Give me the camera and I’ll do some magic on it.” Shari held her hand out, expecting me to hand it over.

  “Really, it’s not necessary. I’m sure the ones I took are awful and will all be discarded. Just choose one of Novah’s.”

  Shari stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Why don’t you want me to see them?”

  “It’s been a really long time since I’ve taken any pictures, and I’m sure they’re bad.”

  She grabbed the camera from my hand but didn’t immediately walk away. Her gaze pierced mine with a raised brow, questioning me silently. But I had nothing to say. She’d see for herself soon enough.

  Other than the soft clicks of Novah’s mouse on her computer, stillness filled the studio. Shari had taken a laptop and sat down on the couch in the waiting room where I could see her through the opened door. The second her eyes lifted above the top of the computer and met mine, I knew I was done.

  “You guys don’t need me here anymore. I’m just gonna head out.”

  Novah spun in her seat and stopped when her wide eyes met mine. “Don’t go. This won’t take very long and then we’ll get to see each other’s shots.”

  Bending down and pressing my lips to her cheek, I whispered into her ear, “It’s fine. I have errands to run anyway. Just give me a call after she picks and tell me where to meet you for dinner.”

  As I made my way toward the front door, I caught a small smile playing on the edges of Shari’s lips, but she didn’t bother taking her attention away from the screen in front of her.

  This day of fun had turned into a day of humiliation and unsettling memories fast.

  Thirteen

  Hours passed as I waited for her call. And the longer the time drew on, the more unsettled I became. It wasn’t so much about Novah and the pictures as it was the damaging thoughts of my father’s words from my past bringing me to my knees. This was the reason I had a hard time finding something to make me happy to begin with.

  Because everything came with a price.

  And sometimes, the price was too great to pay.

  The truth was, I had enjoyed the experience of holding a camera in my hands again, standing in the sun and surrounding myself with nature. It was something I’d always liked when taking photography. When others would choose inside stations or artificial light, my mind instantly went outdoors. There was so much you could learn about life while taking it all in through the lens. It didn’t matter the weather or time of day; there was always something to see, something to learn.

  Rain had a tendency to sour moods, but in my youth, I never fell victim to the grey clouds or dreary sky. To me, it’d given me the chance to capture a pool of rainwater that offered residence to tadpoles. It’d provided physical evidence of growth in wildlife as plants soaked up the water in the soil. While growing up, I used to love sitting in the back yard and catching the moment my neighbor’s cat drank from a puddle, and then he would freak out when a drop fell from the sky and landed on his head. To me, it never mattered where I was or the temperature outside. I could always find something to capture.

  But everything changed the day my father took it all away and punished me for my love of the art. The day everything turned upside. And ever since then, I’d never been the same. I’d never found anything capable of offering that same sense of pride or contentment.

  Now, rain was a nuisance to me. No longer could I enjoy the elements like I once had when I was younger. Rain meant sticky joints in my titanium leg, time spent drying it off and caring for it if I didn’t want it to rust, and then spending more money and time on a replacement. The blazing sun no longer offered me warmth or reminded me of blossoming flowers and chirping birds.

  Instead, it brought back unpleasant memories of the desert, the sand, the unbearable heat you couldn’t escape.

  In place of birds, I heard the buzz of insects, the kind that found you no matter where you hid.

  And once my mind went there, I couldn’t block out the deep booms of exploding bombs, or the phantom vibrations that shook me, regardless of the fact I was alone in my condo, nowhere near an explosion. The thunderous pops of gunfire filled my ears until my hearing morphed into a loud ringing sound, deafening me to reality.

  It didn’t matter how much I once loved photography, or how holding a camera in my hand felt more like a piece of my heart than a piece of metal, because it’d been ruined. Tarnished. My love for the art had long since rotted and wilted away.

  Novah: I have the prints. Come to my house?

  I wanted to see her, but I knew my mood had turned too dark to be around her. She’d know within a second of seeing my face something was wrong, and I didn’t want to get into it with her. The very last thing I wanted to do was explain how her good intention had eaten me alive inside.

  Me: I already know you won. There’s no point in wasting the time going through the prints.

  I barely had my phone set down before it rang, vibrating against the bedside table. All I wanted to do was cower away in my room with the shades drawn, blocking out the rest of the world, but I knew Novah wouldn’t accept that.

  “What are you doing?” Her voice was bright and excited, even through the phone.

  “I was laying down.”

  “Oh.” She paused, probably waiting for me to say something else, but I didn’t. “I thought you had errands to take care of.”

  “I did. Now I’m tired and my leg hurts, so I decided to take a nap.” My eyes squeezed shut, hating the way the lie burned my tongue on its way out. I wasn’t tired, and my leg didn’t hurt. I didn’t want to take a nap. But I couldn’t tell her the truth.

  “Well, I can stop by if you want. If it’d be easier. Shari picked a winner, but I don’t know who won. She sealed the prints off in envelopes and made me promise not to look until you were with me.”

  I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the mattress, feeling the soft carpet beneath my foot and the absence of sensation beneath the other. I had no idea what to say to her, because no matter how badly I wanted to see her face, I knew it’d be a bad idea.

  “I’m sorry. This whole thing was so stupid. It doesn’t matter who won or what pictures we took. It was silly and immature and—”

  “Novah—”

  “—I’ll just throw them away.”

  “Please stop talking for a minute.” I waited until I was met with silence through the line before continuing. “It wasn’t stupid. It was silly, but that was the point. You wanted me to have some fun, and I really
appreciate your effort.”

  “But you didn’t…have fun, I mean.”

  “It’s not that.” I blew out a long breath and stared at the wall, the phone pressed against my ear.

  “It doesn’t take a genius to know you’re going through something right now. And I hate how you’re all alone while I’m sitting at my house…not doing anything. My hands are tied here, Nolan. I can’t do anything for you because you refuse to open up. Just know I’m here whenever you need me.”

  “Novah—”

  “Get some sleep and relax your leg. I’ll talk to you later. Tomorrow is a new day, and I don’t have any plans. So call me if you want to get together.” Her voice wavered, growing weaker and shakier with each word. And then the call ended.

  I dropped my cell to my bed and punched the mattress repeatedly with my fist, wishing it were something harder. I’d made her cry, and that was the exact opposite of what I wanted. My decision to stay away from her for the rest of the day was to prevent this, yet somehow, it’d happened anyway.

  I picked my phone back up and typed out a message, hoping it would help smooth over the pain I’d caused.

  Me: I’m really sorry.

  Novah: No need to apologize. You’re entitled to bad days. It’s none of my business.

  Against my better judgment, I put my shoes back on and headed to her house, hoping she would still be there. I had no idea what to do once I got there, but I had to see her. I had to make sure she was okay. I no longer cared about my shitty mood or the sounds of my father’s voice screaming at me in my head. All I cared about was Novah.

  Shock covered her face as she opened the door. She stood in the foyer, her body rigid like she’d seen a ghost. “What are you doing here?”

  “You invited me over.”

  She shook her head, dropped her eyes, and let her gaze roam my body. “I thought you were tired. What about your leg?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Come sit down.” The door opened wider as she moved out of the way, giving me space to walk in. “You should get off your feet. Do you need anything? Ice? Tylenol? Heating pad?” She swiftly moved to the couch and began to fluff the pillows, completely unaware of the fact I hadn’t followed her. “I have no idea what helps with that kind of pain.”

  She straightened and glanced up at me, finally realizing I hadn’t progressed past the entryway. Her movements stilled as she gawked at me. The questions in her eyes did not go unnoticed, but I wasn’t sure how to answer them, either.

  “I’m fine, Novah.” Her line of sight fell to my pant leg, as if trying to physically see my pain. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. I laid down for a bit, and now it’s fine.”

  The way she nodded before glancing around the room let me know she’d seen through my lie. Her movements became rigid as she finished adjusting the pillows on the couch, almost screaming of how uncomfortable I’d made her.

  “Listen, I’m sorry.” I finally made my way to her and held her trembling hands. “Today was a lot for me, okay?”

  “I only wanted you to do something to make you happy. From now on, I’ll let you figure out what you enjoy on your own, and I won’t push you anymore.”

  “You didn’t know this, but until today, I haven’t touched a camera since our project together in school.”

  Her eyes widened. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “Not at all?”

  “Well, I mean, I have my phone, and I’ve taken pictures when I’ve needed to. But to just sit there with a camera like that, one that’s bigger than the palm of my hand, and actually capturing a moment? No. I haven’t.”

  “Do you not like it anymore?”

  I shook my head and took a step back, wondering how to explain it to her without revealing just how dark my mind was. “Part of me does. But a bigger part of me uses it as a way to separate who I used to be from who I’ve turned into.”

  “I don’t understand…”

  “The boy who used to love the camera was carefree. Yeah, he had his struggles, which sometimes seemed too big to handle, but in hindsight, they were so small. That boy grew up and saw war firsthand, death, horrific hatred.”

  The crease between her brows turned to a deep valley as she took in my words. It was clear she had a hard time comprehending what I’d tried to say.

  “I know you think that boy is still in me, but he’s not. I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again: he’s gone. He’s buried in the trenches overseas. And in his place is me—this empty, lifeless person who has no direction in life.”

  She reached out and pressed her palms gently to my chest, then leaned in and kissed the clenched space over my hammering heart.

  “You’re wrong, Nolan. You’re so damn wrong.” She turned back to the coffee table, picked up her phone, and unlocked the screen before handing it to me. “I was in the middle of writing this to you when you showed up. Since I planned to send it, I might as well let you read it.”

  Our texts were pulled up on her screen, and down at the bottom was an unsent message. I want to be there for you, but it tears me apart that I can’t. Sometimes I want to smack you, and other times I want to hold you close. You mean the world to me, Nolan, and the thought of never meaning that much to you scares me shitless, no matter what I do or how hard I try. I know being with you and falling for you like I have will only hurt me in the end, but I’m willing to accept it if it means your hurt will stop. I don’t know what to do anym—

  I stared at the screen long after I finished reading. I couldn’t meet her eyes, because I knew I’d break down. The suffering I’d caused her became too much to bear, and I knew I should let her go. But I couldn’t. Finally, before the screen went dark, I noticed the name at the top of the message screen: Beautiful Boy.

  “Why do you have me listed in your phone as this?” I gave the phone back to her, as if she could read it, but I knew the screen had locked, just as I knew she understood my question without having to see it.

  “Because originally, I had you as ‘asshole,’ but then I decided to change it when I realized I’d misjudged you.”

  “And ‘Beautiful Boy’ is what you came up with? I could’ve found something better and more fitting than that.” Even though I’d said it with a laugh, I was serious. There were plenty of other adjectives I could’ve come up with more suitable for me than what she had chosen.

  “I wish you’d just look in a damn mirror. But then again, that probably wouldn’t even work. You’re so blind, Nolan. You’ve convinced yourself the real you, the one I saw so many years ago, is gone. But he’s not. Yes, you were right when you said he’s buried, but not in any trench, and not in any other country. He’s buried inside you, beneath the layers upon layers of self-hatred. You’ve gotten older, but you haven’t grown up. You’ve regressed into a toddler who puts the blame on everything else.”

  I stepped back. Her verbal assault left my chest aching like she’d physically punched me instead of lecturing me. Her words stung harsher than a slap across my face. But I didn’t stop her. I allowed her to get it all out.

  “You lost your leg eleven years ago. When are you going to stop being pissed at the world for it and learn to stand on your own two feet? You’ve witnessed some of the most heinous things imaginable, and I won’t stand here and tell you that you need to forget it, because I know it’s not possible. The things you’ve seen and had to do…I can’t imagine. But guess what, Nolan? You’re alive. Make this life mean something. Don’t let it go to waste.”

  She successfully made me feel small, less than a foot tall. Insignificant. Yet I knew it hadn’t been her intent, and she’d said it all to empower me, but it did the opposite. She was right when she said I was so full of self-hatred. But how do you stop hating something that makes you physically ill, angered, and disgusted?

  “You don’t see it, but I do.” She stepped closer to me and held my face in her warm, soft hands, forcing my attention back to her glistening eyes. When had she started crying? “And I won
’t give up until you see it, too. You’re still in there. Come out. Stop hiding from everyone and everything. Aren’t you tired of living in the dark?”

  I held onto her hips and pulled her body flush with mine, her heat bringing my insides to a boil. “It’s not dark when you’re around. When I’m with you, I believe what you say. But then when I’m alone…”

  “I can’t physically be with you all the time, Nolan. But you can carry me with you.”

  “I already do.” I took her hand and moved it to the center of my chest. “Right here. You’re always right here.”

  Her lips gently pressed against mine, holding the kiss for a beat before pulling away. “Can we talk? I mean, can you be completely open and honest with me?”

  I froze, my mouth opening and closing without a single sound coming out. But then I nodded as if my body knew the answer before my mind did. I worried she’d run if she could see just how deep my self-loathing went. But I’d gone too far to stop myself, and had to take the chance.

  “What do you want from me?”

  It seemed like such an easy question, with an easier response, but instead of answering, I stood there with my mouth agape and not a thing coming out.

  “You sought me out, Nolan. You came looking for me. And I know at the time, it was to get back at me, or apologize for what had happened, or whatever your motive was for finding me. But it doesn’t change the fact you came here. You found me. And instead of blaming me, you’ve kept me around. Why?”

  “To save me.”

  She blinked a few times, cocking her head as if to allow my confession to settle into her mind. “If you want me to save you so badly, why won’t you let me?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t think I’m not letting you. I just think it’s harder than I originally thought it’d be.”

  “Do you think I’m capable of what you’re asking me to do? You want me to save you, probably because in your worst moments, you’ve admitted to me being the one to stop you from pulling the trigger. But really, in this reality, do you think I’m capable of pulling the hidden beauty out of you?”