So, as I said before I am continuing with this story, and as I have a week off school, expect a lot of new chapters. I want to thank everyone who reviewed, favourited and followed as I wasn't sure if anyone even liked this story anymore. I might not have a lot of followers, but the ones I have I love and you have no idea how grateful I am for all of you. Sorry if that sounds too cheesy.
Massive thanks to Chocolate-w-love for all her lovely advice and help, and this Chapter is now dedicated to you.
I'm thinking of starting a new fanfic, but I'd say I'll wait till I finish(or at least nearly finish) this one first. And I haven't updated Underappreciated in like years, so I really need to.
Anyway, here's the chapter!
I've always hated digital cameras.
I remember one Christmas when all anyone wanted was a digital camera. I made a point to tell everyone not to get me one. I'd rather have gotten nothing.
I loved disposable cameras. I loved looking through the viewfinder (a feature modern digital cameras lacked) and taking a picture filled with anticipation of how it would turn out. But mostly, I loved the duplicates. I loved having two copies of all the snapshots. It meant I always had a backup. People often reminded me that I could use a computer and make as many copies as I wanted if I used a digital camera. I always told them it wasn't the same. Not by a long shot.
With duplicates, you had exactly two copies. Only two copies. And that was it. I never knew why, but for some reason it always seemed like a big deal to me. To only have two copies of something as sentimental as a photograph of, for example, Phil and I sitting on a swing set, or of us perched on Roman and John's shoulders. Only two copies would ever exist—only two people would ever own them.
It was way more meaningful and sentimental than a digital copy could ever be.
My room was filled with pictures. They were taped to my mirror, taped to my headboard, and in picture frames on every surface of my room. Phil, Roman, and John's rooms were all the same way.
The first picture I ever took of Dean was on the second to last day of spring break. I had a camera with one picture left on it that I planned on developing after work. Dean had come with me to work that day. After my shift, we sat on some barstools that overlooked the lanes as we waited for Phil to get off since his shift was a half hour longer than mine.
"Ready to go back to school Monday?" Dean asked.
"Ha, never," I answered. "School sucks. You have no idea."
"No, I don't, actually."
I mentally kicked myself. "Oh, I'm sorry…"
"Don't be," he said, brushing it off. "It's no big deal."
"It kind of is though…"
He didn't say anything right away. He just sat there staring at the lanes. Then he sighed. "I used to go to school when I was little."
"How little?" I asked.
"Like six or seven," he answered. "Then my mom decided to 'home-school' me. It was pretty much just a way of not having to worry about me or forget about picking me up every day."
His mom. He'd never mentioned his family before. Except the thing about his sister,but that didn't really count. He'd never said anything really about a life before being homeless. I wondered where his mom was now. I wondered if he had a dad or any other siblings, or maybe some friends that he left behind.
"I'm sorry," I said again, quietly, since I couldn't think of anything else to say.
"Why?" he asked with a smile. "You didn't do anything."
"But still," I said.
He nudged my shoulder with his own. "Don't worry about me."
"Someone has to," I said, nudging him back.
He smiled a goofy smile and looked down. I pulled out my camera and wound it up.
"One more picture left," I said. "It would suck if I had to waste it."
"Do you have enough light in here?" he asked.
"We're about to find out."
We both leaned in and I stretched out my arm with the camera. Smiling, I pressed down the button, and with a click, the moment was frozen forever. Twice.
Monday night I collapsed onto my bed. "I forgot how physically demanding school is."
"We were only gone off for a week," Roman said, sitting beside me.
"No, we were gone for a whole week," Phil sighed and flopped over into a beanbag chair. "And entire week of sleeping in and doing nothing. And now…it's over."
"You guys are way too dramatic," John insisted as he sat down on my desk chair. "School's going to be over in less than two months anyway. So just suck it up."
"I would kick you if you were close enough," I said.
"No you wouldn't. You'd be too lazy to lift your leg."
"Children!" Phil said. "Hush."
"I like that picture," John said, pointing to one of the many frames on my nightstand. The one in particular to which he was referring was the one I'd taken of Dean and myself.
The picture turned out great. Though it had been in the dark and the flash was off, the bright fluorescent lights of the bowling alley were lit up around us, providing just the right amount of light for the photograph.
The picture seemed to stand out from all the other ones on my nightstand, which was quite a feat since I had so many crammed into such a small space. Or maybe it just stood out to me because it was the first picture of Dean that I'd taken.
Dean had a stunning smile. His eyes seemed to light up as his smile touched them. He looked as though he'd never lived through a sad moment in his life—which just goes to show that a smile can hide a thousand secrets. If you don't believe me, go look at the Mona Lisa.
So there's chapter ten. Review, favourite & follow!
Ciara x