Page 65 of Moonstruck at Midnight
Hmm.
“Your food, Miss Murphy,” he said with a wink. I bit my lower lip, anger boiling inside me. There he was, winking at me, all jolly and shit, after having turned Thomas against my father.
“Thanks,” I said, taking the bags out of his hands.
“Red, what’s wrong?” he whispered, analyzing me.
I shook my head. I couldn’t talk to him about this with my father sitting in my living room. “Not now,” I mouthed back.
“Red,” he muttered. I looked over my shoulder and saw my father texting on his phone.
“Thanks for bringing the food up.” I closed the door in his face and walked back to my father with a big, fake smile on my face.
My phone buzzed a couple of minutes later:
Caleb:Just tell me what’s wrong.
Me:Congratulations. My father hates Thomas now.
Caleb didn’t reply to my text. He was probably celebrating.
July 6, 2009
I WOKE UP VERY EARLYon the first day of my photography course. Thinking about going for a morning run to the park and being ready on time for school would be tricky. I needed to find another time to run during those three weeks.
An option consisted of running in the park in the afternoon after school, only if there was still light. Running at night was frowned upon by my security detail.
The second choice consisted of using the apartment building’s treadmill at the second-floor gym. That was the boring choice, but probably the most viable one.
We arrived at Parsons fifteen minutes before nine. I was nervous and excited about my first day, and I didn’t want to be late. Thankfully, Caleb wasn’t on duty. I was still angry at him. It’s one thing to report an incident like the fight to my father, which I already expected, and a whole other to pass judgment on my boyfriend’s character. So no, I didn’t feel like looking at Caleb’s face.
I found my classroom and took a seat on one of the five empty tables with that first day of school anxiety sending a weird sensation to my stomach.
More students walked in as the minutes went by. Soon, the clock hit nine, and the instructor, a man in his late forties wearing black-framed glasses, entered the room, leaving his things on the desk.
“Welcome to the Summer Photography Program,” he said, passing out sheets of paper among the attendants. “My name is Glenn Beckett, and I’ll be your instructor. We will have a final assignment due by the end of the third week. You’ll work on this project in groups of three.” People stared at each other, wondering if they should make the groups. You could tell nobody knew each other.
“The groups have already been assigned by your last names. If you look in your course syllabus, you’ll find your group at the end of the page.”
There were fifteen of us, which meant there would be five groups.
“You’ll be graded both individually and as a group on this final assignment. You only get to miss two sessions for the whole three weeks, so your assistance is of the utmost importance. Now, please, take a few minutes to find your partners and choose a table to share with them. We’ll start today’s session in five minutes. Have your analog cameras out, please.”
I looked at the list, and I was assigned with Benjamin Miller and Nolan Murray. Everyone stood up to find their partners.
“Billie and Ben?” I could hear someone asking around the classroom.
“Hi! I’m Billie. You must be Nolan.”
“Yes, I am. Nice to meet you, Billie,” Nolan said with a smile, pushing one of his dark, wavy strands away from his forehead. He wore a short-sleeved denim button-down shirt over a white t-shirt and black jeans.
“Hey, guys. I’m Ben. Nice to meet you.” His outfit matched the cheerful smile with which he approached us. He wore jeans and a soft, cream-colored, short-sleeved, button-down shirt with a dinosaur print in different green, yellow, and orange shades. The bright colors accentuated his deep golden-brown skin.
After we introduced ourselves, the three of us took a seat on one of the five tables and took out our cameras. Mr. Beckett walked back into the classroom and began his lecture. It was mostly a technical session about film cameras with a bit of history too.
We were sent to lunch for an hour at noon. David andCalebwere standing outside in the distance. Aaron was nowhere to be found. Odd.
When it came to Caleb, I never held back. If I wanted to say something to him, I would do so straightforwardly. Last night I couldn’t talk to him since I was with my father, and I definitely didn’t want to go about it through texts. But I was ready to talk, so I walked up to him and asked him if we could have a quick word.
