𝐎 𝐁 𝐉 𝐄 𝐂 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 (18+)

4

Charlotte Lewis, Charlotte Lewis, Leila Wright..?

                                  ♡♡♡♡

"How many more pictures do you need, Issac?  I'm hungry and you promised me lunch."

"Just two or three more and then I'm done I swear."

"When you go off to art school, you better use all of these pictures in your portfolio or I swear to God."

"You're some of my best work Leila, I'd have nothing else to offer."

                                     ♡♡♡

"How many more pictures do you need, Issac? I'm—"

"I know, you're hungry and I promised you lunch but that's exactly why I came prepared this time." I gestured my head towards the picnic basket sitting on the table and smiled.

"Just two or three more and then I'm done, I swear."

She rolled her eyes, "why do you always wanna take pictures of me anyways? I find your pictures of hermit crabs much more tasteful."

After all these years she was still oblivious. It was my favorite thing about her, second to the way she always looked at her feet whenever she was walking. When Leila and I were younger, she always missed picture day. She was either sick, had to go out of town with her parents, or just forgot to schedule her photos.

When she did make one she hated her hair or her mascara was running or her outfit wasn't cute enough. She nearly scribbled her face out of our yearbook until I assured her she looked just fine in her portrait.

She told me years ago, "I swear if I had a personal photographer, I'd never take a bad photo again."

It was in passing, not something she would remember but I did so I started taking pictures of her. Anytime we hung out, every time she wasn't looking. Sometimes she'd pose for me and other times I'd catch her when the sun hit her skin so perfectly, her hair tucked behind her ears. I made sure every picture I took of her was perfection, she'd never take another bad picture as long as I was around.

"You still haven't caught on, have you?"

"Caught on to what?" Her head was tilted in confusion.

When Leila and I stopped talking I questioned what I should do with the countless photos I had of her. I thought about tossing them. About clearing every SD card and burning every physical photo of her I had.

I didn't want to be reminded of her, didn't want to spend any extra minutes wondering where I went wrong. I was close to getting rid of everything but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I tucked her and the camera away for a long time, too jaded to handle either of them.

"I'll tell you what. If you tell me what really happened five years ago, I'll tell you why I always take pictures of you."

She scowled, "there's nothing to tell."

I turned off my camera and sighed, "then I guess I have nothing to say either."

I knew Leila, pretty sure I knew her better than she knew herself. I knew that she chewed on the bottom of her lip whenever she lied and that if she stayed and told me everything she wrote in that note her lip would've been raw. I waited for years for her to come clean, to tell me it was just some cruel and unusual joke but she never did. I was starting to doubt everything I knew about her, maybe I really didn't mean as much to her as I thought.

"You've barely touched your sandwich. You'd usually inhale it by now, what's the matter?" She had pickle juice on the side of her mouth that her tongue just couldn't seem to reach.