Picture Perfect

by Hayden Hunt

  But life isn’t about straight paths. It’s about accepting all the curves that the universe throws at you.

  I don’t know if things will definitely work out with Rich, nobody could know that. But I do know I really care about him. And I know that things don’t have to be perfect with us. Whatever happens, life will continue on.

  It’s a risk, but I need to take it.

  My father and I continued to talk through our lunch, all about life and where I hope to be. And the more we dug into the conversation, the more sure I became that I had made a mistake walking away from Rich.

  I was still totally embarrassed about my actions toward him, though. I knew I wanted to work things out, but I wasn’t sure how to go about doing that.

  We had class together the next day. I probably should have just called him that night, after I spoke to my father, and explained all my feelings and all my regrets. But it felt too weird. And I didn’t think this was the kind of conversation I should have with him over the phone.

  So, I told myself that I’d talk to him the next day when I saw him in class. I also prayed that I’d have the courage. I got anxious butterflies in my stomach just thinking about how our conversation was going to go.

  Even though he was being respectful, it kind of sucked that Rich hadn’t tried to reach out to me. If he had, I’d have some idea of how he was feeling right now. If he missed me, if he hated me, you know… something.

  Holy shit. What if he isn’t just being respectful?

  The thought hadn’t crossed my mind, but it is a possibility. Maybe he wasn’t keeping his distance to give me time. Maybe he was actually just done with me now after how I had acted. Maybe he was distant because he didn’t want to be around me any longer.

  I panicked as I thought about it. It could be either possibility, really. It wouldn’t be unreasonable for him to not want to be with me anymore after how I had acted. I’d have serious reservations about him if he had treated me like that.

  I couldn’t get the thought out of my head. All night and the next morning, I stressed about what was to come. The fear and anxiety only got worse the closer it got to our photography class.

  I got there early, hoping to catch him before class so I didn’t have to spend the full ninety minutes worried about talking to him after. But, to my dismay, he didn’t show up early.

  When there was only a minute to go in class, I had no choice but to sit down and take my seat. I impatiently waited for him to come and fill the seat next to me.

  But he never came. He wasn’t in class today. I knew he wasn’t going to be there because he was never, ever late.

  He also never missed a class. He must have a legitimate reason not to be here today, and my mind went to the worst-case scenario.

  What if he’s sick? What if he got into some kind of accident? Holy hell, there could be so much going on in his life that I’m completely unaware of now that I’ve been out of contact with him for the past two weeks.

  Shame washed over me. I should have been there for him. I should be someone he can rely on and not somebody who torments him with an argument in the middle of class and then doesn’t talk to him for two weeks.

  But if there was an emergency he’d come to me, right? He would at least break his silence if he really needed me.

  Only, I wasn’t sure of that answer. I’d been pretty specific in my instructions, that I’d be the one to come to him. Now, I was finally ready to, and something might have happened to him.

  “Hello, class,” Professor Bingsley said as she entered the room. “I hope everyone is well today. Before we get started, I have some news about the photography contest and am pleased to say that one of our own students has won! And that many other students’ work will be placed in the gallery this week.”

  “Who won?!” one girl asked enthusiastically.

  “Our very own Richard!”

  Rich won?! I knew it. I knew it would be him. He was extremely fucking talented.

  Ugh, and I had made him feel guilty about it. The worst part was, none of what I said was even true anymore. Right now, I wasn’t jealous of him. I was extremely happy for him.

  And he wasn’t even in class to see it. Did he know that he had won? Fuck, I had so many questions.

  After our professor announced Rich had won, there was a round of applause, and then confusion when people glanced around the class.

  “But where is Rich?” Another boy asked.

  “Oh, right, he’ll be out today as he is accepting his scholarship from the judges prior to the opening of the gallery tomorrow night. I strongly encourage you all to go and show your support of, not only him, but the other students who have their photographs in the gallery.”

  On the one hand, I was relieved to hear that Rich was fine and the only reason he was out of class was to accept a scholarship. I was also thrilled to know that, right now, he was basking in the glory of his win.

  But I wished I could be there, too.

  “Do you know what picture he won with?” another student, named Jessica, asked. I knew her because she and Rich had become really buddy-buddy in the darkroom over the course of the semester. I wasn’t surprised that she was curious about his win.

  “Actually, I have a copy that he printed while working for the contest. It is not his final print, so it’s not perfect, and he added a beautiful deep red sepia toner to it after he finished. But here it is.”

  He pulled out the 8x10 photograph, and my jaw dropped.

  It was me. That probably shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. There were so many other photograph he’d taken that were far more exquisite than anything he had on that first roll of film. And yet he chose… me.

  That wasn’t the only surprising thing about it, though. All the photographs he had printed of me from that assignment were very posed. They looked like perfect, clean portraits from a professional.

  But this one didn’t look posed at all. I don’t know what he said to get this particular shot out of me. We didn’t talk much during that shoot, so I couldn’t really remember. It went by pretty fast.

  But something he said must have made me laugh. A real, genuine laugh. I knew it was real because of the way my hand was curled at my cheek, like I was laughing in nervous embarrassment. It was a close-up with the sand and the lake forming a perfect horizontal line behind me.

  It was perfect.

  I know he’s good on a technical basis, but this picture was good in a different kind of way. I mean, it was technical perfection, too, but it was also artistic. He had perfectly captured me. There was soul in this picture.

  I have no doubts about why he won first place.

  This picture meant so much to me for so many reasons. But the biggest was because this meant he wasn’t just done with me. He hadn’t been ignoring me because he was sick of me. He had only done it to give me space.

  If he was done with me, there was no way he would’ve spent weeks in the darkroom perfecting this print. That would have meant weeks that he would have had to just stare at my face… Why would he have done that to himself?

  No, this photo definitely meant that he was still thinking of me. And I was still thinking of him, too.

  “So, if anyone would like to go, there will be refreshments and live music at the University’s art gallery at seven o’clock tomorrow evening,” Professor Bingsley commented.

  I was going to be there. Yes, tomorrow, that would be the perfect time to tell him I’d made a horrible mistake.

  Tomorrow, I’d fix all of this.

  9

  Rich

  Two weeks, it had been over two weeks since I’d talked to Patrick. And it had been torture.

  I’d stayed away though, because it had been the right thing to do. If he wanted space, I had to give it to him.

  And, all right, I’ll admit it. I was also doing it for selfish reasons. I thought that if I came on too strong or seemed like I was trying to force him to be with me, it would completely scare him away, which I
absolutely did not want.

  My only distraction had been working on my photograph of him for the contest. I’d worked on it nearly every day for two weeks. Even on days we didn’t have class, we were allowed to come in during the free darkroom hours from seven to nine at night, and I’d been in there every day.

  That’s all I could do right now, try to throw myself completely and totally into my work. It helped that my work meant I got to stare at him.

  You’d think it would cause me pain, but it didn’t. A part of me was really convinced that this photograph was going to be how I won him back.

  Okay, that’s really stupid-sounding. I don’t know why I think that one photo would change his mind, but… I don’t know. Art speaks to people. And this photograph perfectly explains all the reasons why I fell in love with him and why I’m going to stay in love with him.

  I hope he sees that.

  After two weeks of non-stop hard work, I turned in my photograph to the University’s photography department. To my complete and utter surprise, a few days later, I was called because I’d won!

  I was actually shocked. I don’t doubt my photography skills, and I don’t doubt that this was a very well-done print, but there are plenty of great photographers. I was in competition with photographers that were studying at the University too. To think I’d beat out all of them… It was an honor.

  I really had wanted to share the news with Pat, but I didn’t want to overstep my boundaries. So I kept quiet about my success. I could only hope that he would just show up at the art gallery the night of the opening and see my photograph of him.

  When the day rolled around, though, my hopes weren’t so high anymore. Surely my professor had told the class I’d won the contest, I had even left her with a copy of my print in case she had wanted to show it. Which I had only done because I had been hoping Pat would see it.

  But if he has seen it, he hasn’t tried to contact me at all. Maybe he hasn’t. Maybe he doesn’t even realize the art gallery is tonight.

  I have no way to fix it if he doesn’t, though. I’m not going to reach out to him and ask him to come.

  Not only would that be crossing the boundary I had no interest in crossing, but how rude would that seem?

  I’d basically be saying, ‘Hey, I know you didn’t even want to enter the contest because you thought I’d win, but, great news! I did win! Will I see you tonight?’ Ugh, no, there’s no way that isn’t going to sound like I’m rubbing his nose in it.

  I’d just have to wait to see how things would turn out. I should really relax. Either way, it’s going to be a good night, right? I mean, I did win this awesome prize, and that’s something, either way.

  I went to the art gallery dressed in a nice button-down shirt and slacks with dress shoes. It was a nice event, and I wanted to look the part. Of course, I also wanted to look cute in case Pat showed up.

  When I arrived, I recognized a few faces. There were the judges who I had accepted my scholarship from last night who came over to shake my hand to congratulate me. Then there were some kids from class who all gave me congratulations and pats on the back. Not going to lie, it felt pretty damn good to be getting praise for my work.

  But there was still an ache in my stomach as I anxiously awaited Pat’s arrival.

  While waiting, I grabbed some food and a drink and paced the gallery. There were a lot of beautiful pictures lining the walls. Some from my classmates, which I recognized from in the darkroom. Others that I could see were from University students. It was nice, though. There was something peaceful about walking around, observing all the art.

  I couldn’t help feeling like this was where I was always meant to be. My heart belonged in the arts. This was my passion. It felt so much nicer to be here, thinking of photography, than out in the field doing electric work. I couldn’t wait for the day where this became my full-time job.

  I couldn’t help grinning when I got to my picture. It was placed in the middle of the gallery in a bold frame. It had a blue ribbon placed next to it. Surrounding my photographs were two other prints, each with a red and white ribbon attached to them.

  Underneath my photograph was a little paper with my information printed on it. The title of my photograph, my name, and the school at which I was currently working.

  “The Day I Fell In Love?” I heard a voice behind me ask. “That’s what you called it?”

  I recognized the voice as Pat’s. And it was true, that was what I had titled my picture.

  “I couldn’t think of anything else that fit better,” I told him sheepishly. “That’s all this picture means to me. It’s all I think when I see it.”

  He gave me a half-smile and then a quick frown. “It’s beautiful, you know. I, uh, saw it the other day, but the toner you placed on it… It really brings the life out of it.”

  “Thank you,” I nodded.

  I wasn’t sure what this conversation was going to be, so I didn’t allow myself to get too excited. He didn’t seem happy like I thought he would be, and that, of course, made me nervous.

  “I, uh, I wanted to apologize to you,” he said softly.

  “Oh?” I asked. I had no idea if this was the kind of apology where he asks for me back or the kind of apology where he says sorry, and that we can no longer be together.

  “I behaved like an idiot that day that I asked for a break. And I said a lot of things that I truly didn’t mean.” He stared at my photograph a little longer. “Though, one thing I did actually mean was that you are extremely talented.”

  “And you’re jealous of that?”

  “Not at all!” he said quickly. “Or, uh, sure, I guess I could be more like you. But I don’t feel jealousy when I see your work. And I’m not jealous that you won. I’m proud. I’m proud to know you, I’m, uh, proud to love you.”

  I jerked my head toward him. “You love me?”

  “I do,” he admitted. “And I’ve felt that way a long time. And I definitely should have told you that a long time ago, but I was scared.”

  “Scared of what?”

  He sighed, “Of the future, of our relationship failing, of my heart being crushed.”

  I sighed, too, “I thought we had worked through that. The night that I asked you to be with me.”

  “I know, I know. But I swear, I didn’t lie to you. I really felt that way that night. It wasn’t until the next day that I started to have doubts. Admittedly, my mother kind of got into my head.”

  “I see…” I paused. “And what changed your mind?”

  “Well, honestly, I regretted what I said as soon as I had left. But I didn’t know how to go back on my word, and I was still insecure that whether or not we would work out, and that I’d be in pain and everything.”

  I looked at him suspiciously. “Are you still scared?”

  “Yes,” he answered without hesitation. “But I care a lot less about it now.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Something my dad said to me… Something about life not having to be perfect. About how life is not a straight line to happiness, so if things don’t work out, they don’t work out. It doesn’t mean I won’t find happiness in the future.”

  “I… I think that’s very wise,” I said.

  Even though he said he loved me, even though he obviously wanted to get back with me, I was staying reserved. Whatever he felt now, he had still hurt me. I was still hesitant.

  Not that I was going to not take him back, of course I would. I just didn’t want to be the person who made the first move toward that.

  Thankfully, he kept talking for me.

  “Do you mean that?” he asked.

  “Mean what?”

  “Was this really the day you fell in love with me?”

  “Yes, it really was. And this picture is the only one that really seems to do it justice. I mean, obviously, I love all the pictures with you, but this one… this one where you’re really laughing. It feels like you. It encapsulates what I love about you.”

&nbs
p; “Which is what, exactly?” he gave a sly smile.

  I laughed, “Your outgoing nature, your openness, the way you are so light and funny and artistic.”

  He looked back up at the photograph again. “Why didn’t you ever show it to me?”

  “I actually was planning to save it. I didn’t want to print it just for an assignment for the class. I was hoping to save it for a really important day for us. Give it as a gift to you or maybe incorporate it somehow into a proposal.”

  “A proposal?!” his eyes widened.

  I laughed, “In the far off future. Please, don’t go running for the hills again.”

  He smiled, “Oh, I won’t. In fact, I think that’s incredibly sweet. But, I mean, I totally understand why you had to use it for the contest. It’s a clear winner.”

  He raised an eyebrow, “Is that why you think I printed it now as opposed to later?”

  “Well, uh, didn’t you? Print it for the contest, I mean.”

  “Technically I did, sure. But, I didn’t do it to win the contest. I did it to win you. My special occasion ended up not being a proposal, it was winning you back.”

  Now he laughed, “Oh my god, that’s so sweet. But you never needed to do this to win me back… I was always going to come back to you, Rich. I just needed a little time.”

  “I know, I understand,” I told him reassuringly.

  “Do you really? Because I feel absolutely terrible about how I acted. Can you really forgive me for all this?”

  “Are you kidding? Yes, of course, absolutely. It was a two-week setback… I’m already over it.”

  He grinned, “So you’ll, like, be my boyfriend again, then?”

  “Wasn’t I always?” I wrapped my arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. He gave me a soft kiss on the cheek, and we both looked at the picture.

  This was it. This was happiness. Everything I felt like I’d been chasing my whole life was now right in front of me.

  Here I was, staring at my own photograph, which won a first place award with a man I love wrapped in my arms. When I had gone through all the frustration that was divorcing my ex-wife, this is what I had done it for. So that I could have the kind of life that I was having right now.