Page 35 of Only You

“I like that, and I like these pictures.” Looking me up and down, she laughed under her breath, “And I like you.” She reached out with a gimme-gimme motion.

“I didn’t bring anything else?” Then I remembered Professor Michaelson had said she’d want to see my camera. I held the Leica out. “Do you want this?”

She shook her head. “Don’t be silly, hand over the drop-add and transfer forms.”

“Oh.” I had to dig into my backpack to retrieve the papers she needed to sign which would allow me to drop Photography 110 and add Photography 210.

“Youmustbe in my class,” she said. “I won’t lose you to Boring Bob.”

“I’m sorry? Who?”

She waved the question away. “Another 210 professor. So, if the timing of my class clashes with something else in your schedule, you’ll have to submit drop-adds until you can make it fit. You don’t have my permission to waste your talent, understand?”

I nodded, butterflies in my gut.

She filled out the form and signed it with a flourish. “I expect to see all that bravery of yours going forward, okay?”

“Thank you,” I said. “I hope I can please you.”

She shook her head. “No, Peter Mandel. You’re going to please yourself. If you need to take self-absorbed photos of shame and misery, do it. If it brings you joy to capture a different kind of love and acceptance, do it. Just don’t hem-and-haw over your talent. Don’t overthink your photos. I can tell you haven’t in the past, so don’t start now.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate this. I won’t let you down.”

“Ah-ah-ah,” she scolded.

“I won’t let myself down?”

“Correct. See you in class.”

Stepping from the cool interior of the building out into the August heat was like walking into a mouth. I fanned myself with my hand as I leaned against the side of the building, laughing in relief. She’d said yes, but more than that—she’dlikedwhat she’d seen. She’d called me talented, and she wanted me inherclass. Wow.

I wanted to share the news, but I didn’t know who to share it with. I could run over to McClung Tower and tell my dad, but a quick glance at my watch let me know he was already in class. I was tempted to find a phone booth to call Daniel with the news, but he might be busy with his mom or his siblings right now. Daniel had so much on his plate, and I didn’t want to bother him.

I could call home and let my mom know, but I’d never done something like that before, and it seemed late in my life to start now. Besides, she’d just say she was proud of me, unless she didn’t answer at all because she was lost on the prairie making a rancher fall in love with a preacher’s daughter.

I decided to take care of another task I’d promised myself I wouldn’t put off for too long. I walked to the UT Health Services Center.

Sitting down in a big cushy chair next to a low round table, I waited for my name to be called. Nerves flitted through my system, and I tried to think of anything else aside from the reason I’d come here. My brain offered up a memory of Millar’s laugh earlier in the day.

He’d known about me and Adam. I wondered who else from Kingsley knew. I shook the thoughts away.

Everything Millar had talked about, our entire conversation, had been steeped in the past. The Peter he remembered was the Peter I used to be, the one who’d lied and cheated and hurt people. That person was gone for good. I was turning into someone new.

That was why I was here. To get the test that would put the final nail in that coffin of doubt. I had to make sure nothing from that past was going to follow me into the future. Beginning with the specter of HIV.

Cold anxiety whooshed through my stomach.

I remembered the last time I’d been with Adam, how even now I wasn’t sure he’d used a condom. There’d been seven in the trash, but one hadn’t seemed to have much cum in it, if any at all. But it’d been the seventh time! How much cum could he have had left?

Still, the fact remained: I needed to get tested. That’s why I was here. Just to be sure.

Fidgeting, I tried to think of something else to center me. I pulled out my wallet, sorting through the small set of photos I had in there. One of my mom. One of Harry. One of my dad. And one I’d snatched from my pinboard just yesterday morning. It showed Daniel laughing as he bit into a slice of pizza. I’d snapped it of him over the summer at Robert’s house, and I loved how carefree he looked.

I wanted that for Daniel all the time. That carefree laughter. The shine in his eyes.

I wanted it for me, too. I wondered what kind of photos I could take with a carefree, unburdened heart. What would they show of me? Of life? I hoped one day I’d find out.

Then that could be the real me, the one Marta would see reflected in my upcoming photos, and the one Daniel would consider his friend.

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