Beautiful Boy(32)

I shook my head, my laughter easing up enough to speak. "I don't have a camera. And I haven't taken a picture in years."

"I have a camera you could use," Novah offered with a hopeful grin  spread on her hesitant face. "What do you say? It could be fun."

My idea of fun certainly wasn't taking pictures of Novah's friend while  she pranced around the yard like a fairy, but I could tell it meant a  lot to her, so I gave in.

I pushed down every worry over getting behind a camera again. Not  because I had some sort of traumatic stress or anxiety that became  fueled by a camera, but because it had once been something I loved.  Capturing a moment in time-even something as insignificant as the wind  blowing through a tree-was surreal to me. Like I'd trapped a piece of  history on film. And I feared experiencing that again would only make me  want it more, and I couldn't afford the yearning it might offer.

I shrugged and nodded, incapable of turning her down. I could tell this  meant a lot to Novah, and I didn't want to upset her by declining her  offer. Not to mention, she'd been right-it could be fun. When it came to  letting go and being free, enjoying life and the people in it, I wasn't  the expert. I'd never possessed the ability to relax and enjoy anything  around me. And those thoughts, the gloomy memories of my past, weighed  on me while we went outside and took pictures.

The space behind the studio was impressive. It was large and filled with  well-maintained nature. In one corner, there were three low-hanging  trees with red blooms. I didn't know what kind they were, but they  reminded me of a swamp with the way they drooped and offered heavy  shade. On the other side, weathered Adirondack chairs sat in the rich  green grass accompanied by short, dwarf-looking palm trees which grew at  an angle instead of straight up. All around the yard were various  flowers and shrubbery, random areas of shade, and thick grass worthy of a  picnic blanket. It was truly an outdoor photographer's dream.

Shari struck random and off-the-wall poses while Novah laughed. Her  camera remained steadily in front of her face; she only pulled it away  briefly to check the screen. Digital cameras were not new to me, but  digital SLR cameras were. I wasn't used to taking a photo and then  immediately being able to see it, so I never bothered to look at the  screen between takes. I simply pointed and clicked, sometimes rapidly,  other times waiting until I had the right shot.

It's amazing how you can put something away for years, only to pick it  back up and it seems like no time had passed between. Like a bike.  That's how the camera was for me. Granted, the dials and settings were  different from what I'd been used to back when I was a kid, but the  function was still the same. So while Shari goofed off and Novah  encouraged her dramatic poses, my mind drifted while my fingers and eyes  worked on autopilot.

"Are you purposely trying to ruin me?" My dad paced the living room with  his fists on his hips, his steps pounding into the carpet. Even with  the heavy padding beneath his feet, the stomping could be heard.

"No, sir." It didn't matter what I had to say, because he'd never  listen. So I had no choice but to give the automatic reply and let him  finish his lecture.

"How exactly did you think it would look for a senator's son to spread  nearly naked photos of a teenage girl around school? Did you think you  wouldn't get caught? Did you think just because your face isn't in the  picture, you'd somehow get away with it?"         

     



 

"No, sir."

"Then what in the hell were you thinking?" He stopped pacing and stood  in front of me, his face dark red and his brown eyes turning almost  black as he stared at me, waiting for an answer.

"I didn't spread the pictures." It was the only defense I had, because  in truth, when I'd taken them, I never once expected this to be the  result.

"Did you take them?"

"Yes, sir." I already knew where this was headed.

"Did you develop them?"

"Yes, sir."

"Are you eighteen, and a legal adult?"

"Yes, sir," I said with a huff of air.

"Is she fifteen-a child?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then let me tell you something, son. That is a crime. At any point,  from when you took the first picture to when you developed the last, did  you even once think about what you were doing?"

Honestly, the answer was no. I never thought about the consequences or  the law, because to me, Novah wasn't a fifteen-year-old girl and I  wasn't a legal adult. She was simply someone who made me feel different,  and around her, I became a real person without an age. There was  nothing criminal about the way she made me feel. And not once did I ever  expect anyone else to see those prints. They were for me and me alone.

"Answer me!" He took a step closer, getting in my face as he shouted. His breath blew against my cheek and lit a fire inside.

I stood up and puffed my chest out, hoping to exude some amount of  confidence. I'd never stood up to him this way, but I wasn't about to  let him beat me down any more.

"I didn't spread the pictures. I never took them to school or showed  them to anyone. They were of a private moment between me and her, and  they were meant to stay that way."

"If that's the case, Nolan, then you should've never taken the pictures  to begin with. Christ!" His hands flailed in the air as he stepped back  and turned away from me. "You've grown up in this house, knowing exactly  how things from your past can come back to haunt you later. I'm in  politics, for crying out loud! It's what we do! We dig up pictures and  comments, videos and scandals about our opponents and use them to  tarnish their name. How could you possibly think this wouldn't turn  around to bite you in the ass?"

"I didn't think-"

"Exactly! You didn't think! For such a smart kid, you can really be fucking stupid."

"Doug, that's enough," my mom said from her seat on the other couch.  "You're upset, and it's understandable, but there's no need to be  nasty."

My dad glared at her before turning his hate-filled eyes toward me. "If I  can't salvage this, and it ruins my career, you'll see nasty, and this  little conversation will seem mild compared to what will happen."

If I thought about it, I could probably come up with a handful of times  my dad had been truly mad at me. Most of the time, he was simply  indifferent. When he was home, he'd lock himself in his office or in his  room with my mom. He ruled the house with a stern look and silent  demands I knew better than to question, so seeing him like this put the  fear of God in me.

"What are you going to do to salvage this?" My voice was low, fearful of what his answer would be.

"Well, we have a meeting tomorrow at school with the principal and this  girl's family. You will apologize and then say nothing else. You will  leave everything up to me. Hopefully, pulling you out of school for the  rest of the year will be enough to make this go away."

"Pull me out of school? Dad! It's senior year!"

"Don't worry, you'll graduate. You can still get credit for studies done at home instead of at school."

"What about college?"

He shook his head and looked to the ground, wrapping his white knuckles  around the back of his neck. "I'm up for reelection in two years. And  I've discussed with your mother about running for president in four.  There will be a lot of campaigning and politics surrounding me during  that time, and we think it's best for you to not be in the middle of  it."

I turned to my mother, watching the way her fingers fidgeted with the  edge of her skirt, her gaze refusing to meet mine. Panic struck me deep  and forced my frantic breaths to heave in short, desperate pants. The  edges of my vision darkened and my fingertips grew cold and prickly like  they'd been stabbed with the sharp end of a thousand tiny needles.

"What does that mean?" I whispered, keeping my stare focused on my mother. But she never responded or even looked my way.         

     



 

"You're eighteen and legally able to do what you want, but your mother  and I think it'd be best if you learned some discipline." My father's  voice was harsh and deep, filled with anger-in complete contrast to my  mom's quiet and sad demeanor. "You clearly need it considering this  stunt you've pulled. You need to learn responsibility and grow up a  little. And we think the Army will be good for you."

My head snapped to him, shock forcing my jaw to hang open, practically  unhinged. "The Army? You're going to send me to the Army because I took a  few pictures of a girl I really like? Pictures she gave me permission  to take?"

"That's exactly my point, Nolan. You still don't see anything wrong with  what you've done. It was a crime, and yet here you are, continuing to  defend it like you're a casualty in this. That poor girl is the victim;  you're the monster who victimized her!"