A Picture's Worth
by Miss Ay Jay
Disclaimer: I own none of this.
Okay so. Like. The school is absolutely full of gorgeous women- girls. Full of beautiful girls. It's like, well, since the girls can afford to be heavenly, they definitely all. They're all so tiny with such long legs and such high shoes and it's enough to make a boy's head spin on a regular day.
But then one of these girls starts talking to him on the regular (on the regular!) and Lucas can't even believe that this is his life and not some altverse where he's about to get bitten by a radioactive something-or-another because when else does a geek become cool?
(Not that it would be bad to have some super powers. He could imagine it now- beating up his enemies, getting buff, kissing Hanna upsidown in the rain, the whole shebang. He would be so. Freaking. Cool.)
The point is: Lucas should be more careful. For example: it is one thing to categorize all of his pictures that he's taken of Hanna for yearbook on his own time. During this time, he might look at the picture of her in her clique of friends and classify her as "radiant" because of the halo of light that he happened to capture. Then, he might look at the picture of her at homecoming and deem it "breathtaking" because, really, how can somebody look at her and still be alive? She's like a hot medusa of hotness. And then he might look at the picture of her and Sean and think- why does he not realize how amazing she is? If Lucas was Hanna's boyfriend, well. The Virginity Club would certainly be a distant memory, replaced with memories of smiling and laughing and, well, all the other things.
And, if Lucas was careful, then he would sigh and start his real work with no one the wiser.
But Lucas is not careful, and so, after he has about seven pictures of Hanna open and he's trying to decide which one has the cutest nose, he hears a disturbingly beautiful voice at his ear.
"Wow, I should hire you as my professional Facebook photographer," she says, nodding. He shivers slightly, half from her voice on his neck and half from holy goodness Hanna has just caught me being a stalker I hope she finds it endearing and not police-worthy.
He quickly reaches to click all of them away and feign ignorance, but it seems that her hands is already on the mouse, clicking through them.
"Some of these are good," she says somewhat more to his left, leaving him room to breathe (literally).
"Just some of them? I must be off my game," he quips, hoping to take the focus away from the fact that he has just been caught being a Creepy McCreeperson.
Hanna laughs, clicking on the next picture. It is her sitting down on a bench, a moment of quiet in an otherwise busy day. He loves this one in particular.
She scoffs at this one.
"Belly rolls," she points out with the mouse pointer. "Definitely deletable."
Lucas, incredulous, snatches the mouse away before she can drag his beauty into the trash bin.
"What are you talking about! Even next to original Selina Kyle you look like you have a tiny waist," he says, blathering on as per usual.
Hanna blinks at him.
"Is she a freshman?"
Lucas smiles and points to the supposed belly rolls.
"This is a normal fold that occurs when you bend at the waist. If there was nothing there, then, well, you would be the Invisible Woman and then who would I take creepy pictures of?"
She laughs and puts a hand on his shoulder. His skin burns where her hand is, and he entertains a brief fantasy of taking her hand and then kissing her, hard, right then and there. She would realize that he is her dream man and they would go steady. It would be awesome.
Hanna points to another picture, the one of her from homecoming.
"You can totally see my makeup line here," she says, pointing to a spot on her jaw. "And if that goes in the yearbook, everyone will be able to see it for generations. Great."
Lucas sighs.
This is a time for action.
Shakily, his hand shoots up and grabs her hand that is still on his shoulder. She wobbles in her heels for a second, so he takes his other hand and puts it at her waist. Hanna looks at his hand on her waist, but then looks at him, confused.
"Hanna," he says, trying to swallow his nerves, "Hanna, you know that I like having you in here. You're a good YouTube buddy. You have great ideas. You help me to look at a real woman not through a lens. But if you're just going to put yourself down by making up weird things about yourself that just aren't true, then you can't hang out with me. Or, I mean, you still can, I would never make you go away, it's just- you know, you're great, there's nothing wrong with you- except maybe that you hang out with me-"
He is paused by a hand at his cheek.
This is it.
This is going to be his first kiss.
Hanna is coming in closer.
His breath catches.
He closes his eyes.
What does he do with his hands?
This is it.
Hanna gives him a peck on the nose and pulls back, all the way back to standing.
Lucas opens one eye at a time.
"Did that just happen?" he asks, trying to make sure that the Bermuda Triangle didn't just change positions and swallow him whole.
Hanna smiles, turns to go, turns back to him, mouths "thank you," and is gone.
Well.
A slow grin covers Lucas' face. He puts his hands behind his head and revels in the moment.
He will never wash this nose again.
Well. Maybe not. But he is definitely blogging about this tonight.