Why Me?

Chapter Six

Getting Better.

"Morning, class," Wyatt said, turning to face us. His eyes landed on me immediately and he smiled before he looked around the rest of the

room. I was smiling as well, wondering what he was going to bring to the table today after my pep talk. "l have graded your projects, and am ready to pass them back."

He picked up a stack of sheet protected images from his desk and waved them gently in the air, casting a brilliant smile around.

"l have comments and critiques written on the back, but I don't think that it would be enough for all of you to learn properly, which is why we're going outside today to work on techniques when taking pictures," he said, causing the class to burst into confused, yet excited, cheers.

Wyatt cast me a bright-eyed look. I gave him a thumbs up, grinning. He took the prints in both hands and bent them back and forth, very slightly. "Come up to me as you make your way out and I will pass you your print. If you have any questions, approach me once all prints are handed out and we are outside."

There was excited chatter as the students rose, all filing in behind each other to Wyatt, taking their prints one by one. I lingered back, taking my time to slid my bag onto my shoulder and hook my hands around my books, letting them hang down in front of me, my fluffy pink skirt folding around the edges of the hardcover binding. I slowly walked, smiling, behind everyone else, waiting patiently until Wyatt handed out a print to the last student. He was left holding one more, angled towards his chest to avoid the eyes of other students. As that last student walked off, getting into a conversation with another, Wyatt's eyes turned to me, his smile curving further upwards.

I stopped in front of him, giving him a small, proud, smile. He smiled back, then handed me my print. Shifting my books to one hand, I accepted and turned it towards me. The mountains in the background, all lines, and blocks of bright color stretched behind the lengthy and smiling Wyatt, his body making lines of their own. I turned it over and read his comments. He felt it was the strongest picture out of all his classes... so far. he said I could improve on finding balance in space and managing colors, but it was perfect other than that, and the subject of the picture didn't have anything to do with it. I giggled, looking up at him. He was watching me, hands in his pocket, with a grin. 

I tucked my print on top of my books and adjusted them to sit on my hip, my arms hooking around them. "So, how is it so far?" he asked, grimacing slightly with nerves. I nodded at him, shifting my feet, leaning closer to him.

"It was wonderful. You seem to be getting others excited," I informed him with a smile. I looked towards the open door at my classmates outside. They were getting their cameras ready. "But I don't think your job is over. You should go out there and tell them what you told me." I looked at him again, giving him an encouraging smile. "Tell them how it's just like painting." He nodded, grinning, and turned on his heel, his eyes remaining on me until he started walking for the exit. 

I followed after him, feeling like I was walking on air. I was so happy today, and this only made it better. It was wonderful to help people, to turn their lives around. I stepped into the cool, crisp, afternoon air and stood by the doorway, leaning against the wall, as Wyatt began talking to the class. I watch him, not really listening, as he spoke to my excited classmates. He was so full of energy, waving his hands, grinning, even hopping around as he mimed the correct ways to take a photo. His movements were fluid, almost like he was dancing; graceful. His hands moved, mimicking painting, a long, relaxed, stroke in the air. My eyes stayed on that hand, the light of the day shining around it like a halo, silhouetting its form as a graceful shape sweeping through space. My eyes moved from that hand, settling on the back of his head. His hair wasn't as tidy as it was when I first met him. It was a bit more free, messed, stray waves, like ink, curling up at his hairline. My eyes moved down his neck to his shoulders, which were sloping, but sturdy. He was a lean man, active. His muscles were defined, but he was on the thinner side, his button-up white shirt tucked into his khakis to further silhouette his frame. My eyes moved down to his waist, taking in his well-defined shape. A movement of his feet, a slight skip as if he were dancing to a beat I couldn't hear, turning his body so he faced down the hall. My eyes snapped to his face, which was still looking towards the crowd of students away from me. "Do you get it?" he asked. My eyes focused on this throat, muscles, and tendons twisting under the sheet of his skin, his Adam's apple dancing with his voice and his laughter. The class was a chorus of laughter and voices as well, bodies beginning to mill around in random directions. Some lingering, beginning to exchange words with Wyatt. My eyes moved back to his face in a fluid motion as he talked with them, his smile bright and his skin glowing. He seemed so happy, so energized. I leaned from the wall, turning to look out to the sun-filled courtyard that lay just outside the open hall. Colored leaves littered the ground, red, gold, and brown. A red flash whipped through my vision, kicking through the leaves and sending them in a cloud of spiraling color. Surprised, my eyes lifted to look up to a red shape, twirling, camera raised up to the sky. It was a girl, with hair that was short and dirty blonde. She was dainty, delicate, with thin and graceful limbs. Her neck was small, gentle, leading to the strong jaw of a heart-shaped face. Her skin was like mine, clear and porcelain. She was breathtakingly beautiful. She was taking pictures with a regular canon model, the lens facing towards the sky.