The Devil May Care

Chapter 1

    Mid-September heat beat down on the city, Not a cloud to be seen in the seemingly opalescent blue sky. The smell of the overused espresso machine tickling my nose, working away right behind where I had perched myself to start on writing my application essay for Duke University next fall. I had chosen the same spot for weeks now since I had made the decision to go back to school and try and do something more than work in a tiny diner for the rest of my life. I had gotten my name down, and that blinking line mocked me. The writing was a strong suit of mine, and I had never had a problem with writing an essay before. This was a change, My white chocolate mocha was now bitterly cold and my half-eaten bagel sat with a fly the size of Godzilla eating its weight in the cream cheese.

"You look like you're constipated." Abigail Borrow, my coffee companion and good friend, sat across the small bistro table from me. Her long brown hair wrapped up in a high bun, but tendrils had fallen and were sticking to her forehead.

"Brain constipation is a real thing," I muttered and clicked away from the almost empty document and went back to scrolling through the Duke website, Art, Art history and visual studies. I clicked through to look between the variety of classes and majors and minors.

"Are you still working on that essay?" Abby leaned across the space between us, peering at my laptop screen. "You still have a year before you need to even start that."

I looked through the requirements for the minor in photography. "That doesn't mean I can't start stressing now."

She giggled and rolled back in her chair. "You're gonna show up in Duke, 23 with grey hair and a knot in your neck."

I smiled at her, clicking over to the Pinterest tab, my feed was instantly refreshed with rows and rows of brightly colored photos, landscapes, and portraits alike. A few of cityscapes, new interesting angles, and viewpoints I desperately wanted to try out. I saved a few and then went back to staring at my essay. I didn't even like the way my name looked now, it seemed to be spelled wrong, in the wrong font and in the wrong color.

Juniper R Darwin

Everything looked wrong, frustrated I erased everything and then rewrote it. I still hated it. When I was little I had loved my name, I wanted to be like a tree I guess. Now, it was hard to make up a watermark for my photography, or even a business name. I had been taking pictures since the ripe age of four, I had taken my mother's Polaroid and I followed the cat around the house and waited for the perfect photo. My mom had always said that I would crawl around on the floor with that cat for hours upon hours. And almost twenty years later I would still do that every chance I got. I would go belly down in a puddle of mud just to get the right angle of a sunset or an engagement.

Juniper Rosanna Darwin. A name I used to write on every polaroid, every print I saved every penny to get printed. In high school, I started the JRD Photography Instagram and posted every single day. Now? Not so much.

"I think I'm going to go on a date tonight," Abby said, sipping her second coffee since we'd gotten here.

I closed my laptop. "Oh?"

She smiled at me, closing her book. "Yeah, I met him at the store the other day, he gave me his number, and asked me to text him my favorite book."

I smirked. "Smart man," I finally waved the Godzilla fly away from my bagel, with no intention of eating it.

"And I did, and he had read it, and had his own favorite book, and was knowledgeable about books." She blushed at her rambling. "I didn't expect him to actually know his shit when it came to books, no one who gives me their numbers there actually read."

"What's his name?" I reached across and took a chug of her coffee, ignoring the look I got from her.

"Jamie." She moved her coffee away from my reach.