Exposure • Tamber

Chapter 8: Scary Stories

The difference was obvious. It would have been to anyone, not just someone who knew good photography.  Half the photos were ones she had taken on her own. It didn't matter the subject or the location— the ones she had taken when Tara was with her were better. By far. 

At least Amber was right about one thing.  Tara was the key to putting emotion into her photos. Even without being in the photo herself.

She looked over the ones her professor had liked.  They were from the junk yard— glass shards littered the ground. Their bright colors a stark contrast to the rusted cars in the background.  The light from the afternoon sun reflected off the glass scattered on the ground, casting reflective light across anything large enough to become a backdrop for its glow. Specks of light and color covered cars, broken doors and old forgotten treasures. They had become the canvas for a new treasure. A painting that shifted with the sun. Giving new life to broken pieces from past lives.

She shuffled through the photos, one by one until she landed on one that had Tara in it. Usually Amber liked to keep her photos fairly simple. Letting the scene speak for itself. Not letting people, faces or bodies distract from what else was there. But the photo with Tara in it was stunning.

She kept going and stopped on the photo she had taken of the quiet house at the end of the block. The one with the porch light left on. The first time she had fallen asleep wondering about Tara. Even then, with the girl on her mind, had changed the way her photos turned out.

What was it about her that made that possible? Amber pulled photo after photo off the line, examining them then dropping them in a pile to reach for the next one.

Tara's arms lifted above her head, glass clutched in her hands tightly, the muscles of her arms accentuated by the light of the afternoon. Her face was steady, her eyes determined, her lips pulled down into a slight frown. She was powerful. She pulled your focus, like it was an unwritten rule that she be the center of your attention. The shattered glass at her feet, the chainlink fence twisted and decaying behind her only added to her beauty. A sun amidst the stars.

Amber got to the last photo and held it gently in both hands. It was hard to believe she had taken it. She brushed her thumb over the image, like she was somehow trying to let her fingertips feel the softness of the girl within the picture. She let out a deep breath and dropped the final picture on the top of the pile.

For as much as she was trying to ignore her feelings for Tara, one look at these photos and it was obvious the way she felt.

—

The entire drive to the junkyard Amber had been arguing with herself about what to do. Weathers was right, whatever was happening when she took those photos was making her work better. But could Amber really take whatever feelings she was starting to have for Tara and just use them for her photos? Or would that just be a bonus of trying to figure out exactly what it was she felt for Tara? Did she even want to let this thing with Tara go on more than it already had?

Joey didn't have the answers for her. He just tilted his head and whined quietly when Amber asked for his opinion. Typical. He was never much help in these situations.

Amber sat in that ripped up car, Joey's head lying lazily on her lap, with a book in her hand that she was only pretending to read. She couldn't stop thinking about Tara and the whole thing was just confusing. She had been so good at keeping people at a distance. The fact that Tara had seemed to bypass that so effortlessly made Amber even more curious about the girl, which only fueled her desire to be around her.

After finishing with her photos that morning Amber decided that was enough school for one day. She didn't have her own midterms until later in the week and didn't feel the need to study anyway.