Time-Lapse by J.B. Heller
Chapter One
The world isan ugly place with moments of beauty thrown in to make it bearable. At least, that’s how my world is.
I’ve eaten my lunches under this tree every day for the last four years. Today, it’s a peanut butter sandwich I threw together before rushing out of the house this morning. The other students are laughing, smiling, and flirting, completely oblivious to what’s going on around them.
It’s the little things that reach out to me, that catch my interest and draw me in.
And there she is. I’d know that smile anywhere. I tilt my head as I examine her from afar. Eliza Quinn is the embodiment of everything beautiful in this world.
It’s not one thing that makes her beautiful. It’s the combination of lots of little things.
The chocolate brown of her long, wavy hair is thick and smooth, and I imagine it’s silky to the touch. Her eyes aren’t just blue, or green, or brown—they’re all three. A ring of each blends into the next before coming to the black center of her pupil. I’ve never seen anything like them. And her smile … That smile alone has brought peace to my chaotic mind on more than one occasion.
It’s not because it’s her smile, per se. It’s a genuine smile in a world full of fake ones. I don’t understand why people do that—pretend to be feeling something they’re not, pretend to be someone they’re not.
Then again, the expression plastered on my face ninety percent of the time is one of indifference. But that’s generally how I feel. I don’t plan on sticking around, so why bother trying to make friends with these people? Especially when I know that it wouldn’t matter how great a friendship we formed. As soon as I possibly can, I’m out. I’m gone. And I’m not looking back.
When I leave Shiloh Springs, I won’t ever come back. There’s nothing for me here except a lifetime of bad memories.
After tossing the paper I’d wrapped my sandwich in into the trash a few feet away, I take a bite from my apple and enjoy the sweet juice as it coats my tongue. I stretch my legs out in front of me then cross my ankles and lean back against the trunk of the large shady tree that has become my viewing post.
I mentally snap images in my head as I see a guy tuck a strand of his girl’s hair behind her ear, his fingers lightly grazing the shell as he does it. That small point of contact is so perfect in its simplicity—such a simple gesture, but a moment of beauty.
One of the new guys on the football team smiles with so much pride it shines in his eyes. Click—another moment. If I had my camera, I’d zoom in on his eyes. The way they glow says so much more than words ever could.
Chirping pulls my attention away from the football player and into the branches above me, where a mother bird is flitting around her nest, singing to her babies inside. Two tiny heads pop up, their miniscule beaks held wide open, waiting for their mother to feed them. Click—another moment.
Loud booming laughter comes from the picnic tables to my right. It’s Mr. Popular, also known as Wayne King, laughing at one of his own jokes. The other guys in the group are laughing with him, and so are the girls, although their expressions make it clear they don’t really get it.
I scan their faces until I find Eliza’s again. She’s smiling, but I know she doesn’t find Wayne’s joke amusing. She’s just being polite. I’ve actually never seen her be rude to anyone, even when they deserve it.
We’ve been in the same schools since kindergarten. That was when I first noticed her, and my gaze has been constantly drawn to her ever since.
I doubt her friends know she brings two extra lunches to school every day and leaves them by Jason Thorn’s backpack since he never has any of his own. Jason’s parents are crackheads, and everyone knows it. He’s picked on relentlessly for it, seeing as their drug habit means he and his younger brother have to rely on the charity of others just to get by.
Eliza has never once made a big deal out of giving them food. She’s discreet about it. That makes me wonder if she doesn’t want her asshole friends to know she isn’t like them, or if she doesn’t want to further embarrass Jason and his brother.
I’ve never had a conversation with her myself. What would the point be? I’ve observed enough of her over the years to know I like her. Her smile is the one thing I’ll miss about this place when I leave. It is a solitary slice of beauty in my otherwise ugly existence.
* * *
“I’m out,Johnno. You need anything done before I leave?” I ask my boss as I wipe my mud-covered hands on my jeans.
Johnno looks at the garden bed I’ve just finished removing the rocks from and shakes his head. “Nah, you’re good to go. Good job, though. Patrick was supposed to have had that bed cleared by Wednesday. Lazy prick. Wish all my boys worked like you.”
I smirk. “You knew Pat was a lazy prick when you hired him.”
With a shrug, Johnno nods. “Yeah, I knew. Unfortunately, good help is hard to find. And you won’t drop out of school to come on full time for me, so what choice did I have? This is your fault, if you think about it.” He chuckles, and I roll my eyes.
Working for Johnno Reganzani is one of the few things I enjoy. I like the physical labor and the reward of seeing a project to its end.
Johnno inherited his landscaping company from his old man when he passed, and he put me on as a laborer when I was thirteen.
I had to prove myself, though. I worked a week for free just to show him I could keep up with his crew. And I’ve been outworking them ever since.
"You want to take the truck today?” Johnno asks as I’m walking over to retrieve my backpack from the bed of the old run-around truck.
I look over my shoulder at him. He’s been asking me if I want to use it for the last few weeks, but I haven’t taken him up on his offer. I like to earn my way. I’m not a charity case.
He watches me intently then throws his arms in the air. “For fuck’s sake, Hux, take the damn thing. Consider it a pay raise, but you can put your own damn gas in it. I ain’t payin’ for that.”
He only threw in that last part because he knows I wouldn’t let him put fuel in it if I did take him up on the offer. Scratching my neck, I consider it briefly then shake my head. “Nah, I like walking.” I shrug. “Besides, it’s not exactly a chick magnet.” I grin at Johnno as I throw my pack over my shoulder and start backing away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
His response is to narrow his eyes at me then flip me the bird.
I think I’ll miss Johnno when I leave too.
It’s just after five in the afternoon, and I decide to take the trail through the forest instead of walking the main streets. It will take me longer to get home, but it’s a perfect opportunity to snap some shots of the sunrays shining through the overhead greenery onto the stream that flows through there.
When I was a kid, I became fascinated with the idea of capturing moments. I didn’t have much good in my life, so the idea of storing a beautiful or happy moment in a picture appealed to me. I could always look at a photo of my mom holding me in her arms, smiling down at me with tender warmth in her eyes, and I knew that, for a moment, as small as it was, I was loved.
Now I take every opportunity I get to capture those little windows of time, however brief they are.
My camera was the first thing I bought when I started working for Johnno. And aside from buying the basic necessities, I save every other penny.
Just as I step into the clearing that opens for the stream to flow through, I see her. I freeze, not wanting her to notice me or to disturb her. What is she even doing here? I’ve never seen her here before.
Her eyes are closed, her willowy neck arching back, presenting her face to the solitary ray of sunshine peeking through the trees above.
She looks like an angel.
Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m focusing my lens on her and capturing this moment of absolute perfection.
Her long hair hangs loosely over her bare shoulders. I have the urge to kiss the spot where her shoulder meets her slender neck and run my tongue up the column of her throat, tasting her skin.
I’m taking a step back, intent on sneaking away before she catches sight of me, when her eyes snap open and her head turns in my direction. She stares at me, unblinking.
I swallow hard as our gazes lock. Shit. So much for making a quiet escape.
