As I walk along the gravel path toward the chapel, I look for good places to shoot Steve and Sophie. What I really want are pictures of them down by the water, on the rocks, with the sea spray around them. I could take the photo at night and use the moon as a rim light, so that it illuminates their outline ever so slightly. It’d be so romantic, but it’s also certain to trash her dress. I have some brides that like the idea of messing up their gown for a cool picture, but Sophie isn’t one of them.
I press the eyepiece to my face and snap the shot. When I pull the camera away, I can tell how beautiful it would be. It’s the kind of picture that is the memory. Everyone would want it. It’s packed with emotion and has so much vivid detail it’s hard not to feel the spray of the sea on your skin or smell the salty water.
I walk over to the massive boulders along the shore, climb to the top of the slick rock, and sit down. The night breeze is cool and feels good against my flesh. It was so stuffy inside that my shirt is still sticking to my back.
Tipping my head back, I glance up at the stars, wishing that I could fly away. I never grew up. I still hope and dream for things that aren’t within my reach. I don’t want to accept the life my mother tries to shove down my throat over and over again. I want to live by the seat of my pants and build my life my way, on my terms, not hers.
Speak of the devil. In the silence of the night, my phone blares the Imperial Death March. I don’t bother answering. This is a perfect spot and I’m not tarnishing it with the memory of her chiding voice. Aiming my camera at the bay, I rest it against my knee and change the shutter speed. It’s insanely slow now. I line up the shot and press the button. The responding click of the shutter is slow to come, and I’m careful not to move. I have the reputation for having a super steady hand. A shot turns blurry for most people around 1/80th of a second. I can hand hold a camera at 1/10th of a second. The shutter stays open longer, allowing in more light. Though it appears to be pitch black, the sensor will pick up the subtle light lining the top of the waves, edging the soft clouds and emitting from scattered stars. I wish I could get Sophie out here.
The shutter clicks, completing the exposure before he speaks. “Hey SB. What are you doing out here all alone? Don’t you have any sense? You could slip into the water and never be seen again.” Nick climbs up next to me and leans toward me, resting all his weight on one leg.
“SB?”
“Slutty bridesmaid.”
I work my jaw before I speak. “I’m going to kill you. I’ll push you in, I swear I will.”
He grins and holds up his palms in surrender. “No reason to threaten me. If you want me to go, I’ll go.”
“Then go.” My voice is stern. I don’t look at him as he stands. I expect him to walk away, but he doesn’t. Instead, Nick kicks off his shoes and darts past me, diving from the edge of the rock into the water below.
I scream and lean over the side of the rock edge with my camera dangling around my neck. Nick emerges from darkness, sheets of water pouring from his face. Taking his hands, he pushes his hair back and laughs.
I can’t help it, I scream. A lot. “You stupid son of a bitch! You scared me! I thought you—”
Nick laughs. “Since when do you care? I believe your exact words were go jump off a cliff.” He’s treading water below.
“They were not! I said go, not jump, you idiot.” After my heart resumes a normal pace I give him a half-smile and wonder why he did it.
“To make you loosen up,” he answers as if he were a mind reader. “Come in.”
“Psh, no. I don’t think so.” I look away and shake my head.
“Ah,” he nods. “Too prude. I get it.”
“How am I too prude if you nicknamed me SB?”
Shrugging, he disappears beneath the water. After a second, he comes up again and laughs. “It’s warm, SB. Come on. You’ll have fun.”
I hesitate. Part of me wants to jump in—it’s the same crazy part that thinks Neverland is real and believes fairies really do exist. They must, somewhere. But I hear my mother’s voice and know that I should get back to Sophie. She wanted to talk to me. “Sorry, Ferro. You’ll have to be crazy all by yourself.” I smirk at him and unhook my camera from my neck. I’ve just set it down and am fishing for the lens cap in my dress pocket, when I feel his fingers wrap around my ankle.
“Don’t you dare.” I try to dig my heel in, but it’s too late. Nick already tugged. I fall, feet first, and plunge into icy cold water. When I come up gasping, he’s next to me. I screech and punch his shoulder. “You asshole! You said it was warm!”
Nick’s laughing, watching me like I’m a mermaid about to disappear. “If I had told you it was freezing you would never have come in.”
“I didn’t come in! You pulled me in!”
“Same difference.” He shrugs, and takes my hands, pulling me away from the rock. “Can you swim?”
“I’d be dead if I couldn’t.” The hem of my dress keeps floating up and I’m wearing a G-string. It’s cute and black and matches my bra, but I don’t want him to see it. The further out we swim, the closer we get to the patch of moonlight. “Nick, wait.”