Page 102 of Trust Again

“Don’t do that again, you stupid piece of shit.” For a moment she glared at me, her eyes throwing sparks. Then she went back into our room.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get in touch—I just forgot,” I said, kicking off my shoes. My side of the room looked as colorful and chaotic as it had a week ago, when I’d taken off. Except for a cardboard tube on my bed that I definitely hadn’t left there.

“What’s that?” I asked Sawyer, who was now perched on her desk with her laptop.

“Look at it.”

Allie followed me to the bed and joined me on the patchwork quilt. Picking up the tube, I pried off its round plastic cover and shook it to get out whatever was inside.

It was one of the pictures Sawyer had taken of me as part of her photography project. There I was on the bench where we’d spent a good many mornings together. Behind me, the lawn and trees on campus were slightly out of focus. My pink blouse contrasted nicely with the background. And my face… Wow. Sawyer had been taking pictures even when I wasn’t posing. Here, she caught me laughing in earnest.

“What a beautiful photo,” Allie gushed.

“Originally, the assignment was to capture various emotions. This image wasn’t in the series, but it was too good to throw away,” Sawyer said, without looking up from her computer.

“Thanks,” I whispered, barely able to get the word out.

“Maybe you can use it someday. As an author’s head shot. In case you ever feel confident enough to show your face on the Internet,” my roommate continued.

“I will.”

“Really?” Allie and Sawyer asked together.

Tracing the image of my face with my fingertip, I admitted: “I think I’ve hidden myself long enough.”

“Totally,” said Sawyer, closing her laptop. “Oh, and by the way, my instructor was pretty impressed by the rest of the photos.”

“Fantastic,” I said.

“She liked them so much that we put them on display.”

I blinked. “What?”

She smiled deviously. “Since you weren’t available for consultation, I agreed.”

“Where are they hanging?” I asked, taken aback.

“Oh, just in the western wing of the hall where my class is held. Not many people pass by there, don’t worry.”

“So why do you look like a cat who just drank a whole carton of milk while no one was watching?” Allie pushed her.

“You didn’t ask how big the prints are.”

That was all she had to say. I jumped up, grabbed Allie and dragged her with me.

My face was enormous.

The pictures covered an entire wall, lengthwise. Half the hallway was plastered with my face. Each print was the size of a movie poster. Angry, grimacing, blissful with closed eyes, squinting, and there was even a picture of me leaping with my hand outstretched.

In disbelief, I stared at the images and walked stiffly to the first one, which showed me enraptured, as if the best chocolate in the world was melting in my mouth. A little card was mounted next to the photograph.

Erotic dream, by Sawyer Dixon.

“I’m gong to kill her,” I mumbled as my heart began to pound.

“I’ll help you hide the body,” Allie offered, though I couldn’t help but notice that her mouth was twitching.

“Dawn!”

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