Glass Heart by Amy Garvey Read Free Book Online Page B

forget you’re clicking the shutter. I have a whole file on the laptop of pictures I took of Danny and his friends, of Jess and Dar and my family.
    I pick up my jacket and shrug it on, not looking at Jess when I say, “It’s not . . . lame?”
    Her disgusted sigh is all the answer I need, although Dar chimes in with, “I think it’s awesome.”
    “I’m going to go take some now.” I shoulder my bag, biting my lip nervously. “This could be really good. I hope.”
    “It will be,” Jess promises. She’s smiling, feet tucked up on her chair and her arms wrapped around her legs. “Of course, I’m pretty sure he’d love it if you gave him, like, a ball of hair, you know.”
    “Oh my God, you’re gross,” Dar says to that. She looks forlorn, moored in her sea of paper. “Call me later? Dad’s freaking about Adam’s disappearance, so I’m pretty sure I’m stuck at home tonight.”
    “I will.” I stick my phone in my bag and wave to Jess after I put my coat on. “I’ll be around if you want to talk about Cal.”
    “We’ll see,” she says, and runs her hands through her hair absently as she stretches in her chair. “He’s supposed to call again tonight, so he’s got another chance to impress me.”
    “Lucky him.” I pet Lass’s head when she gets up to follow me. “You stay, girl.”
    Jess and Dar are already focused on their books again when I open the front door, and it’s hard not to run, now that I’ve got the idea in my head. I can think of a dozen places that mean something to both of us, but I need to get to them before the light dies.
    And if my camera isn’t where I think it is, buried in the bottom of my desk drawer at home, I’m going to have to hope Gabriel really likes Cracker Jack.
     
    In the papery winter light, I take pictures of the cornerstone of the high school in shadow, the splintered wood steps to the porch of Gabriel’s house, and the bare branches of the huge maple on Forest Avenue where Gabriel dragged me all those months ago, to tell him about Danny. None of the shots are really what I would call romantic, but I work on each one, examining angles and shadows to make them interesting.
    I hope they are anyway. I won’t be able to frame them all, but I can mount them on heavy paper. I make my way downtown as the light is truly dying, pale white sky smudged gray at the edges, because I want to get shots of Bliss and the bookstore, too.
    I shrug down into my coat as I walk, and wind my scarf tighter around my neck. It’s even colder now, and it’s really beginning to smell like snow. The air is heavy, as if it’s full of secrets, and I’m glad I grabbed a hat before I left my house. Olivia was home when I stopped there to take my first pictures, and she made me a mug of instant hot chocolate while I rooted around in Gabriel’s closet for a pair of his shoes.
    “What exactly are you going to do with those?” she’d asked idly, leaning in the doorway to his room, her own mug cradled in her hands.
    “Um, take a picture of them.” I gave her a hopeful “that’s not weird, right?” smile. When I explained that I was going to take off my Docs and line the two pairs up side by side on the porch steps, she got it.
    “That’s pretty cool.” She licked chocolate off her top lip. She looked half awake; when she was bartending on Friday nights, she got home long after midnight. “Are you doing color or black and white?”
    “Black and white,” I said, straightening up after I finally found Gabriel’s faded blue Converse low-tops under his bed.
    “I can’t wait to see them.” She smiled before wandering away, and I ran downstairs to set up my shot.
    I didn’t have the nerve to tell her she might see the pictures sooner than she thought, since I doubted Gabriel had had a chance yet to tell her about my mom’s invitation to Christmas dinner.
    I’m not too worried about her coming for Christmas, since she’s pretty much the coolest older sister I’ve ever