The Tension of Opposites (20 page)

“Oh, here we go again.” Max stood at the table holding both our photography projects. He propped one foot on the table's leg as he looked over my shoulder, frowning.

“Should I just ignore it?” I asked. “Whatever it is.”

Max leaned in and rolled his eyes. “You're not going to be able to.”

I turned and with one quick glance saw enough. “Oh. My. God.”

“Maybe it's not so bad.”

“But,” I said, “it can't be good.”

Before I could say more, they were there beside us. Elle, with her hands stuffed in the pockets of her jeans, and Frankie Green, a junior whose hair always looked like he'd just stuck a fork into a light socket.

“Hey, Elle,” I said, breathing in a whiff of sweet smoke that clouded around her and Frankie.

“Hey,” Elle said, her bangs swooping down to shield her eyes, but not before I noticed how red and glossy they were.

“Are you stoned?” I whispered.

“Are you ever going to stop being such a goody-goody?” Elle tilted her head.

“But it's, like”—I looked at the clock on the wall—“three in the afternoon.”

Elle fluttered her eyelashes.

Bitch mode
, I thought.
Great.

“I'm outta here.” She turned and grabbed Frankie's hand.

“No way,” I said. “You gotta see my pictures.”

Elle looked at me, her eyes mere slits. “You'll stop acting like my mommy?”

I heard Max chuckle behind me. “Yes,” I said. “Now look.” I pointed to the center of my project. To the two large pictures that were bordered by the gingerbread house and the girls on their swings, the single sunflower and the entire field, the old couple holding hands and Coop walking through the field at the park, the Three Sisters in the summer and the Three Sisters in the winter. I pointed at the large pond, the leaping fountain, and us.

Us then.

And us now.

“Whoa,” Elle said, taking a step forward. She ran her fingertips across the two pictures, feeling the slight crease where one passed over the other.

Layering the shots had been like fitting together two pieces of a puzzle. Fortunately, the center of the fountain was a straight shot toward the sky. There were only a few splashes of water that didn't quite match up. The banks in the foreground and background overlapped perfectly, creating the illusion of an entire pond when, in fact, they were two separate halves. And the girls from all those years ago, sitting on the edge of the pond dangling their feet into the water, looked like they were laughing at a joke the girls on the opposite side of the pond, the girls of the present, had just shouted around all that rushing water.

Elle stepped back, looking at the pond, the fountain, and the four laughing girls. And then she smiled. “That's creepy and cool all at the same time.”

“So you like it?” I asked, trying to press down the nervous feeling that spread through my chest like fire.

“Imagine if they”—Elle pointed to the picture Max had taken the previous week—“could talk to them.” Elle's finger trailed across the pond, pressing her fingertip on the body of her younger, more innocent self.

“Yeah,” I said. “I wish.”

Elle faced me, flicking her head so her bangs flipped out of her eyes. “Your pictures kick ass,” she said.

Frankie jutted his chin toward a mass of people twenty feet away. “Lookie there,” he said with a deep, smoky voice.

I swiveled, looking over the cluster of round tables centered in the commons, and found Jessie perched on Chip's lap like she was trying to keep him from flying away. I stood there wondering why Frankie had pointed them out. I didn't think it was to be mean; Frankie had always seemed too laid back to act out of spite. It could have been some kind of test. Maybe he wanted to see if Elle was really over Chip. But that didn't fit what I knew of Frankie, either. He'd never been one to get caught up in anything. Except finding his next buzz.

I glanced over my shoulder at the crazy-haired boy whom Elle had chosen as her latest conquest, and I realized, judging by the way his lips curved upward and the squint in his eyes, that he was just as disgusted by them as I had always been.

“She should just pee on him,” I said.

Max laughed. “I think she's marked her territory in a much less disgusting way.”

“I guess,” I said as a few juniors, having finished the treats they'd bought in the bake-sale line, stood up from the table nearest to us and walked away.

“Yeah.” Frankie laughed. “Winning Best Couple of the senior class. That's
got
to mean they'll get married, have three kids, and live in a two-story house bordered by a white picket fence.”

“I'm sure Jessie has already picked out their china pattern,” Elle said with a fake gag. Her lack of emotion impressed me. And I hoped she had really moved on.

She looked past me, her eyes darting toward Chip and away again so fast I couldn't be sure. “Well,” she said, “we'd better go, huh?”

Frankie nodded, his electrified hair sizzling the air.

“We're going to that party at Johnson's tonight,” Elle said. “You guys wanna meet us there?”

I looked at Max. He raised his eyebrows, waiting.

“Nah,” I said with a shake of my head. “But you guys have fun.”

“I'll call you tomorrow,” Elle said with a shrug.

Elle and Frankie turned and made their way through the maze of tables and chairs, disappearing in a group of track kids coming in from the meet that had just ended.

“You're
dying
to go, aren't you?” Max asked, his tone playful and light. “To keep track of her. To make sure she doesn't—”

“No,” I said, turning and wrapping my arms around his waist. “I'm really not.” And the truth of that gave me a rush of freedom I never expected to feel.

“O! M! G!” Darcy hopped to my side and spun me around. “Honorable mention?” She popped a bubble in my face, and I caught a whiff of strawberry.

I shrugged and looked past Darcy. The white ribbon fluttered against the sky blue backdrop of my project.

“Are you kidding me?” Darcy asked. She turned and ran a finger along my title, letters I'd cut from old photographs that spelled
Mirror Mirror
at the top of my felt board. “You have nothing to say? Like ‘Darcy, you were so right. I'm an awesome photographer, and I should have listened to you all along'?”

“She's too embarrassed,” Max said, sliding his arm around my waist. His clean scent surrounded me, calming me with one sweet breath.

“Well, yeah.” Darcy's silver earrings sparkled in the sunlight pouring through the large window beside us. “Look at all the stuff on display.” Darcy swept her arm in the air, gesturing around the room. Lining the perimeter of the commons were tablesshowcasing various mediums of artwork. From pottery to papiermâché, pencil sketches to acrylics, puppets to masks, the students of CHS had created pieces that were light, dark, serious, and satirical. “There are only five honorable mentions floating around this room. She was totally wrong, and now she can't argue the fact that she has talent.”

“Well spoken,” Mr. Hollon said from behind me. “I have two more years with you, Tessa. I'm expecting great things.” He squeezed my shoulder and nodded at the focal point of my presentation. “Very creative, Tessa. How you worked the past and present into what seems to be a single shot. Even though you didn't take the pictures yourself, the way you've chosen to fulfill the digital requirement keeps you within the parameters of the art show rules.”

I looked to the two photos in the center of the board, staring so hard the images of Elle and me became a little wavy.

“I'm never going to like showing off my pictures,” I said.

“Get used to it.” Mr. Hollon winked at me. “You've got a unique eye.”

“So,” I said, “you think it works?”

Mr. Hollon raised an eyebrow at me and pointed toward the ribbon, walking away just as my parents burst through the double doors from the parking lot. My mother was carrying a large gift bag with a bunch of ribbons flouncing out of its top.

“Oh, God,” I said, ducking my head. “She didn't.”

“She did,” Darcy said with a smile. “And I helped.”

“Tell me you're kidding.” I looked up at Darcy as she popped another bubble.

“You're gonna love it!” She clapped her hands together as my parents made their way through the crowd.

“Tessa,” my father said, rubbing the top of his head as he looked at my photographs. “These are great.”

My mother reached out and squeezed her arms around my shoulders. “You got a ribbon,” she said. “Grandpa Lou would be so proud.”

Max stepped forward with a hand extended toward my father. “Hey, Mr. McMullen,” he said with a smile.

“Hello, Max,” my father said, clasping Max's hand and giving it a solid shake.

My mother caught my eye and mouthed,
So cute
, scrunching her shoulders up to her ears like a fifth grader. I tried not to roll my eyes.

“You're totally embarrassing,” I said, looking from my mother to my father.

“He didn't see,” my mother whispered into my ear. “And so what if he did? He's adorable.”

“The gift,” I said, pulling away from my mother. “I mean, really?”

“It's your first public showing. Look at everyone.” My mother swooped her hand in a large circle, pointing out all the people. “And you need this.”

“Truly, you do.” Darcy nodded. “But don't freak out, okay?”

“Yeah,” Max nodded. “Just go with it.”

I grabbed the bag from my mother's hand and set it on the ground in front of my display board. I swear I pulled out a tree's worth of tissue paper before getting to the box inside.

When I saw it, I sucked in a breath. It was a new Nikon. Digital. Top of the line.

I looked at my mother. And then my father. Opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out. Darcy bent down and lifted the box out of the gift bag, opening it and pulling the camera from its dark compartment.

“We know how you feel about your grandpa Lou's camera,” my father said, wrinkles of concern creasing his forehead. “But trust me, if he'd been able to take pictures with this, he would have.”

“Yeah,” Darcy said as she flipped one of the camera's many switches and pulled off the lens cap. “This thing is sweet. And it's not like you have to get rid of your other one.”

Max ran a hand through his hair, and several curls popped out between his fingers. “Change can be good, Tessa.”

I took a deep breath and looked at my large purse, which slumped sideways on the floor, holding the only camera I had ever wanted. But my thoughts of rejecting the gift fluttered away as I remembered my grandfather, standing at the base of a tree in the woods, pointing his camera into the twisting branches where I, in my sundress and pigtails, struck a pose for him to shoot.

You gotta take lots and lots of shots,
he'd said,
to get the right one.

“Thanks,” I said, knowing that they were right. Grandpa Lou would have loved everything about this new digital camera. “It's really nice.”

“Okay, you two,” Darcy said, shoving me toward Max. “Step in front of the redbrick wall. That's the best backdrop.”

“I'm sure it has to be charged first,” I said. “You'll have to wait—”

“Darcy told me to charge it ahead of time,” my mother said, tilting forward on her toes. “It's ready.”

I leaned into Max as Darcy's fingers fluttered over the camera's settings, choosing the best for indoor lighting.

“Hey,” Max whispered in my ear as Darcy knelt in front of us. “This is the first photo of us together.”

“That's a lot of pressure,” I said, looking over my shoulder. “What should we do?”

Max tilted his head to the side. “I could sweep you off your feet.”

I shook my head. “Way too cheesy.”

“We could gaze into each other's eyes. Go for one of those introspective shots.”

“Only if we want to give my father a heart attack.”

“Okay. That's out.” Max laughed, his eyes gleaming. “I've been told I rock at making a fish face.”

“You've been holding out on me?” I asked, stepping away from him.

“It's just wrong to show all your talents right up front.”

“So there's more I don't know about you?”

“Much, much more.” Max's face took on this serious look, and then he sucked in his cheeks and plumped his lips, pulsing them up and down like a freakish-looking fish.

I laughed so hard that when Darcy snapped the shot, I wasn't even looking at the camera.

The creation of this book would not have been possible without the guidance and support of some very special people. It seems insufficient to offer you only two pages, considering the fact that without you, my book would not be. I sincerely hope that the following words relay your importance in my life.

First, I must mention my amazing family and all of my extraordinary friends. I'm fortunate that there are
way
too many of you to name—you know who you are. I appreciate your constant reminders that I just needed to keep writing, and that I really could turn my dreams into reality. Your inspiration and encouragement kept me going during the most challenging times.

Jimmy Chesire, the only official writing teacher I have ever had, deserves a distinguished recognition. Your gentle critiques always nudged me in the right direction. Without our discussion on synchronicity, I might never have given this a real try.

My earliest readers were my loving and supportive parents, Diana Dermody and Keith McBride, and my talented writer friends, Mara Purnhagen and Janet Irvin. Thanks for struggling through those initial drafts and offering spot-on revision suggestions. Mara earns a gold star for helping me navigate the most difficult aspect of becoming published; your guidance during my search for an agent was truly invaluable.

The entire crew of children's librarians at the Washington CentervillePublic Library has been so uplifting. What fun it has been to share all my book news with you!

I am extremely fortunate to be working with Regina Griffin, Nico Medina, Alison Weiss, Mary Albi, Greg Stadnyk, and the rest of the gifted team at Egmont USA. I appreciate all of you for believing in this book, for fighting for it, and for treating it with such care.

My two children are the real reason this book came to be. You gave me an excuse to quit teaching and take a chance on myself. I love you for your giggles and hugs. And the fact that you are such nappy-nappersons.

Eric, my husband and best friend, where do I begin? If not for you, none of this would be happening. Thanks for taking that leap of faith with me, for supporting me in my decision to dive headfirst into my writing. It was scary, right? I've hardly caught my breath. But look, it worked!

I give the highest praise to my agent, Alyssa Eisner Henkin, to whom I will never be able to express the depth of my gratitude. Thanks for propelling me from one draft to the next, for all the hours of brainstorming, and for not settling until this thing was in top shape. You are incredibly talented, and I am still reeling with excitement that you plucked me out of your slush pile and offered me representation!

Thanks to all of you for believing in me, and for helping me believe in myself. Much love.