Something Like Thunder (42 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Jason Grant was a troublemaker. Nathaniel regretted going easy on him during the charity ball. Not only had Jason once messed up his romantic life, but now he was meddling in Nathaniel’s professional life as well. Admittedly, Jason’s involvement hadn’t come unsolicited. Losing three international clients in one year had caused a crisis of faith for Marcello, and so he had sought advice from the bottle, retired professionals, strangers on the street, and eventually a teenager. The solution? Jason felt the studio needed to start producing spontaneous photos. The sort of sloppy images people slapped a meme on before posting on the Internet. No careful lighting. No makeup crew. Professional photographers need not apply. Just little moments captured in time that struck a chord with the masses.

The idea possessed a certain modern sensibility, the obvious fault being that a professional studio couldn’t sit around waiting for life to happen. Planned spontaneity wasn’t possible, and yet Marcello expected Nathaniel to try. This meant waking up annoyingly early and collecting their new star model—from his parents’ house. He hadn’t realized just how young Kelly was until that moment. Nathaniel took him to a pancake house for breakfast, feeling like an uncle whose nephew was visiting for the weekend. Kelly didn’t seem to share this impression. The kid kept grinning at him like they were on their first date, but at least he’d snapped at the incompetent waiter who failed to give the kitchen their order.

Now they were standing outside in the parking lot and facing the impossible. Nathaniel had taken a few photos of Kelly trying to appear grown up by forcing down coffee, but that wasn’t enough. They still had the entire day ahead of them. Spontaneity on demand. Kelly knew the assignment and agreed that it was nonsense, but seemed more optimistic about finding a solution.

“I could spread myself out on the hood of your car,” he suggested. “Or wait, maybe I should just do it instead of talking about it.”

“Won’t make a difference,” Nathaniel said. “Would still come across as contrived.”

“In that case, you should drive me home so I can play video games with my brother. That’s what I’d be doing if it weren’t for this assignment.”

Nathaniel considered him. “Maybe you’ve got the right idea. Video games are boring, but what else would you do today? It’s Sunday. Church?”

“Sort of. I have a gay youth group every couple of weeks. There’s one this afternoon.”

Nathaniel shook his head. “I can’t see that being exciting. Unless I’m wrong. I’m picturing an AA meeting except with nervous gay teenagers instead of tired old alcoholics.”

“Pretty much. You’re probably way above the age limit anyway. How old are you? Thirty?”

Nathaniel glared at him. “Twenty-three. How old are you? Twelve?”

“Eighteen.”

“Great.” Not much of an age difference, but enough that their lifestyles were completely different. “So what else do nervous gay teenagers do for fun?”

Kelly shrugged. “Hang out with my friends, usually at their place or in my room. Or at the mall.”

“Gosh, if that’s your idea of a good time, I’d hate to hear about your bad days.”

Kelly’s eyebrows came together, but not in offense. “Actually, you’re on to something.” He walked around the passenger door. “Come on.”

Once in the car, Kelly started giving directions. Nathaniel hoped the idea was good, although even a bad idea was welcome at this point. After twisting and turning through the streets of Austin, they arrived at a high school. In the height of summer, the place felt desolate—just a large brick building, an empty parking lot, and the overzealous landscaping of buzzed grass and spindly trees. The scene was bleak, which appealed to him, but Kelly had another destination in mind. He led the way to the side of the school. Keeping up with him wasn’t easy. Kelly didn’t let crutches slow him down. Nathaniel hadn’t paid much attention to the missing leg, which in the darkness of the charity event had barely been evident, but he knew Marcello hoped to capitalize on its absence. Not in an exploitative way exactly, at least no more so than the norm in this business. Success required not riding the crest of the current wave, but being the force that drove it forward. Marcello wanted modeling to become more inclusive. An amputee would draw attention and generate discussion, but most of all, it would prove the world craved more than images of plastic perfection. The truth of that remained to be seen, but the response from Kelly’s initial photo shoots had been promising.

Kelly led them to a running track—a giant oval of maroon material separated into lanes by white lines. Nathaniel waited to see if Kelly considered this environment ironic, or if he was a proud disabled athlete eager to show off his abilities. Instead he led them to the bleachers, taking a seat higher up so they had a decent view. There they sat and watched a middle-aged man try to jog away the flab. Kelly remained silent. Withdrawn.

“What’s the story?” Nathaniel asked.

“Same as Icarus when he flew too close to the sun.” Kelly’s expression showed longing, his almond-shaped eyes focused straight ahead. “If you delight in something too much, the gods punish you for it. Icarus got his kicks flying, and I got high off running.”

Nathaniel followed his gaze. “You were on the track team?”

“Fastest guy in school. I even planned on making a career of it, Olympic dream and all that. Sounds arrogant to say it now. I probably would have learned a hard lesson when meeting the pros, but I would have preferred that to this.”

A sob story? That’s why they were here? “Huh.”

“That’s it?” Kelly’s head whipped around. “That’s all you’ve got to say?”

Nathaniel shrugged in response. “You don’t strike me as the self-pitying type.”

“I’m not.” Kelly looked forward again. “I used to be, but not anymore. Now I just miss it. I sit here because it’s as close as I can get. I even wondered if I should be some sort of coach, you know? Professional boxers always have an out-of-shape dude telling them how to punch. You don’t have to be the champ to make a champ.”

“Is that something you’re interested in doing?”

Kelly shook his head. “Not really.” He continued to stare at the track with a hint of longing and an air of resignation, still dreaming of a future that would never be.

Nathaniel could relate to that. Who hadn’t carefully made plans, only to discover that fate had different intentions? “I left the flash in the car,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

He walked away, retreating to a safe distance so he wouldn’t be seen. Then he raised the telephoto lens. The angle was perfect. An athletic guy sitting on the bleachers, rounded shoulders beneath the maroon T-shirt that hung off his slender frame, the arms nicely toned. Kelly looked like an athlete who had been sidelined, the reason why hinted at by the singular leg protruding from the long basketball shorts and the crutches propped up on his other side. Nathaniel captured this image with the camera. Then he zoomed in to focus on Kelly’s face, snapping a few just for himself, because he found himself fascinated: the thick lips, the fine curves of his nose, the eyebrows that could communicate so many degrees of expression, especially mild irritation and questioning amusement. Both were better than the sorrowful mask he wore now, similar to the one Nathaniel saw often enough in the mirror. He lowered the camera, no longer comfortable with the situation, and hurried forward to break the spell of loneliness. For them both.

“Got some good photos of you,” he said.

Kelly turned his head and nodded. “I figured.”

“You knew?”

Kelly’s eyes sparkled. “I know that a flash is nearly useless in broad daylight. Especially when you’re using a telephoto lens. What’s the maximum range on that thing? Three hundred millimeters?”

“Five.”

“Impressive.”

Nathaniel stared down at him. “It felt sleazy as hell, taking photos of you looking sad. Too exploitative.”

Kelly shrugged this off, grabbing his crutches and pushing himself up to stand. “I wouldn’t have brought you here if I had a problem with it. I thought we’d go to a shoe store next, followed by a dance club.” He flashed white teeth, startling against his dark skin. Before the day was through, that smile definitely needed to be captured on film.

They travelled next to the wilds of Texas. Sort of. The nature preserve had trees, blue skies, and dirt paths. Kelly navigated just fine along these, only slowing when Nathaniel suggested they cross a field to a place where the light had caught his eye, but he did well enough. Nathaniel decided not to concern himself further, since Kelly was clearly comfortable in his own mobility. This was proven when they approached a tree. Kelly grabbed a low branch and let his crutches fall to the ground. He performed an impressive pull-up, his shirt lifting to expose the bottom of enviable abs. His waist was narrow and defined enough that two angled lines began at the hips and plunged tantalizingly into his shorts. Nathaniel raised the camera and snapped photos, already feeling Marcello patting him on the back in congratulations. Kelly positioned his foot against the trunk, kicking against it so he could grab another branch. Nathaniel raised the camera as Kelly continued to climb higher.

“Care to join me?” he asked once he stopped.

“Not sure the tree would appreciate my weight,” Nathaniel replied.

“Excuses, excuses,” Kelly taunted. “You’re too old and feeble. Admit it.”

Nathaniel shook his head, slung the camera around his neck, and grabbed the same branch Kelly had started with. He did a set of pull-ups, slow and deliberate. He might not have a six-pack, but he had maintained his upper body strength. He glanced up to see Kelly looking impressed, then swung his legs to hook another branch with his feet, but he chose one too high up, leaving him hanging horizontally. Kelly started laughing, which would have been annoying if his face wasn’t such a beautiful sight. Nathaniel let his legs drop, jumped to the ground, and grabbed the camera again.

“I feel like I escaped from a bear,” Kelly said. “There’s no way you’re getting up here.”

“Lucky for you,” Nathaniel said. “I’m getting hungry again.”

“Have some pine cones.” Kelly twisted one off a branch and tossed it at him.

Nathaniel didn’t bother dodging. The photos were too important, even if he got pelted. Kelly was either merciful or a bad aim because none of the pine cones even came close. Until the fifth one bounced off the top of his head.

Nathaniel lowered the camera and glared. “Bears
can
climb trees,” he growled. “Especially when provoked.”

Kelly smirked. “Seeing is believing.”

“I’ll bide my time. You have to come down eventually.”

“I don’t want to,” Kelly said wistfully. “It feels too good.”

“Being able to move around without these?” Nathaniel asked, nudging the crutches with his foot.

“More than that,” Kelly said. “The ground has always been my enemy. I bet most runners want to fly. I always did. It feels possible when you’re going fast enough, like you’re about to outpace gravity and leave the ground. The same when you’re up here.” He grabbed a nearby branch and let himself flop forward until swinging from it. “Almost like flying.”

“Well you’re not, so be careful.” He watched Kelly’s foot find another branch so he could climb down. Then he grabbed another and let himself swing freely, his waist now at eye-height. Most people could probably safely drop to their feet, but that would prove challenging for Kelly. Nathaniel waited, not wanting to be presumptuous with an offer of help.

“Um,” Kelly said. “I might not have thought this all the way through.”

That was his cue. Nathaniel stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Kelly’s waist. Through the nylon mesh shorts, he could feel the warmth of another body. He tried to ignore everything he came into contact with as Kelly slid down his torso and was held there briefly until he balanced himself against the tree.

“Let’s sit down,” Kelly suggested. “I need to cool off.”

“Okay.”

Kelly grabbed Nathaniel’s arm without asking, trusting him to hold it stiff so he could lower himself to the ground. His touch felt significant in a way it shouldn’t, and as Nathaniel sat next to Kelly, both of them with their backs against the tree, he realized how rarely he made physical contact with other people. When he did it was business-related handshakes or hugs from his mother. God, that was sad!

He wondered if Kelly also considered their touches electric, but then again, it hadn’t been so long for him. Probably. Hell, Kelly and William could have patched things up, but Nathaniel was too much of a romantic pessimist to believe that. Still, he should at least confirm his theory.

“So how are things?” Nathaniel asked, and even though he was continuing a conversation that had begun two months ago, Kelly had no trouble picking up where they left off.

“Someone once told me that I don’t need anyone,” Kelly said.

“And?”

“Turns out the guy was full of shit, because I’m single and constantly wishing I wasn’t.”

Nathaniel snorted. “Did he also mention there’s a difference between wanting and needing?”

“Maybe. I was a little distracted at the time. He wasn’t completely wrong though. He told me I’d be all right.”

Nathaniel rested the back of his head against the tree. “And are you?”