Picture Perfect Read online

  Even though I didn’t actually learn anything, it was a pretty fun first class. It got me excited, and I couldn’t wait to develop the roll of film I’d already shot. And this class had me feeling a lot more confident in my ability to succeed.

  “Hey, Rich!” I heard a voice call behind me as I walked out of the class. Dammit, it was that Patrick kid again. I was sure that I had rid myself of him once class had ended but apparently not.

  “Yeah?” I turned around to him.

  “Thanks again for helping me out back there, bro. You’re a life saver.”

  “Oh, yeah, no problem,” I answered as I continued walking.

  “Hey, some of us are gonna go grab a drink tonight, you wanna tag along?”

  No, I didn’t, at all.

  Funny, before this class started I thought that I was going to have a problem making friends. Now I found myself annoyed that one of my fellow students actually wanted to hang out with me.

  “No, I’m not much of a drinker, thanks, I said shortly. “See you at the next class.”

  I started walking in the other direction immediately, not giving him much opportunity to talk me into it.

  “Oh, okay, see ya!” he said in a voice that was still overly positive, but I could tell by his body language that he felt snubbed.

  I felt a little bit rude, but what else could I do? I was getting annoyed by this guy just by sitting next to him, so there’s no way I’d be able to handle having a drink with him.

  And not with just him, but a bunch of people his age just like him? No thanks. What would we even talk about?

  Still, despite my judgments, I knew I had to make more of an effort to get along with my peers. That didn’t mean going out and having drinks with them and making superficial conversation, of course. But I did need to act a little kinder.

  I’ll keep that in mind for next week. Though, I was hoping that Patrick wouldn’t end up sitting next to me again.

  2

  Patrick

  Okay, that was kind of rude of him. The dude seemed lonely. I thought I had been doing him a favor by inviting him to hang out with my friends and me.

  But, whatever, I guess he has no interest. Maybe he’s telling the truth and he really isn’t much of a drinker. Or maybe I had said something wrong to him, I don’t know.

  I wasn’t going to dwell on it though. I didn’t really know the guy, he had just helped me with a few things on my camera. So, I had no reason to get my feelings hurt or anything.

  I needed to focus on the positive right now, anyway. At a time where it felt like my whole life was coming apart, I needed to focus on having some fun.

  Which is why I was going drinking tonight and planning to get totally hammered.

  I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and was hopeful that it was Davy, my buddy who was also in the photo class and had invited me out. He’d had to drop by home before the bar so he had left campus pretty quick whereas I had lingered, so I was hopeful that he was already ready to go.

  But when I glanced at my phone I saw that it wasn’t Davy at all. It was my mother, once again.

  “Hello?” I answered.

  “You can’t do that! You can’t hang up on me like that.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Mom, I was going into a class. And like I told you earlier, I really don’t want to hear this anymore.”

  “Well, who am I supposed to talk to?” she whined into the phone.

  I sighed. I love my mother, I really do, but I also have to be harsh with her sometimes.

  She is an incredibly needy person and she isn’t great about drawing the line between child and friend. I’m her son, not her buddy, and there are things she shouldn’t discuss with me. And one of those things is my father.

  “Talk to friends, Mom! Do you really think I want to hear all this bad shit? About my own Dad?”

  “Don’t you deserve to know the truth about what kind of a person your father is?!” She snapped.

  “I know the truth, Mom. He’s my Dad. I know him, I know you, better than I know anyone else. And this truth you’re talking about is only your version of it. And it’s not painting him in a very positive light at all.”

  “There is no positive light to paint with your father!”

  That simply wasn’t true. Don’t get me wrong, my dad was anything but perfect, particularly in my relationship with my mom. But she wasn’t perfect either, and she had spent pretty much my entire childhood tormenting him.

  She nitpicked every little thing he did. She told him on a daily basis that what he was doing was not good enough, from the way he did the dishes to how he mowed the lawn. She would fight about anything and everything. I have very few memories of my parents where they aren’t fighting.

  Or, no, it really wasn’t even fighting I guess. It was my mom trying to fight with my dad while he remained calm and went about his day and life. He grew numb to her constant attacks, but she still never stopped.

  So, honestly, it didn’t come as a surprise to me when I found out he cheated last year. I wasn’t proud of him. It was a shitty thing to do, and he should’ve left the marriage first. But I know why he did it. There was no love or intimacy in his relationship anymore. I’m pretty sure they only stayed together for me.

  He was still a great dad though. She was a great mom, too. She's not the most mentally stable person, but she’s my mom and I still love her. Individually, they were good parents, but their relationship was a mess.

  And I hated that my mom was now dragging me into it. If she were a more rational person, she’d understand that he’s still my father. I wasn’t going to automatically take sides just because he cheated. I didn’t fucking like it, but that’s not enough to make me completely abandon my father.

  I wasn’t abandoning her either, though. It’s possible to love them both, and I do.

  “Mom, I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear you bad mouth my dad every day.”

  "But he’s really going through with it!” she cried. “I got the papers today.”

  “Mom, of course he is. And he should be! Your relationship is essentially dead. He needs to move on, and you need to move on too.”

  I don’t know why this was such a big surprise to her. He had moved out months ago. She’d been living on her own in the house for a while now. I don’t know how she had a fantasy that he was eventually going to come back.

  “Move on?! We’re married, Patrick! Marriage is forever! What god has brought together, man cannot undo.”

  And now this shit. She only ever pulled the religion card when it suited her. She called herself a Christian, but it’s not as if she ever actually went to church or anything. She just referred to god whenever it worked out for her to do so.

  “Divorce happens, Mom. I know it hurts, I know you feel like you’re failing, but you’re not. And who knows? You might find someone someday who—”

  “I won’t find anyone! Your father took the best years of my life. And now I’m old, ugly, and dried up! Who the hell would want me now.”

  “Mom, that’s just not true!” I tried to comfort her, but I already knew it wouldn’t work. “You’re a beautiful, wonderful woman, and you will find love somewhere else.”

  She started crying again. "I don’t want to find it anywhere else. I want it from your father. But he's a lying rat bastard piece of shit—”

  “Mom, stop! I’m stopping you here. I mean it, you’re not talking about my father like this anymore. It’s not fair to me.”

  “And what about me? What about is fair to me?”

  This is what’s difficult about my Mom. She’s an adult, she’s my mother, and she should understand how to be mature about all this. But talking to her is like talking to a child. I can’t get anywhere with her. I can’t get her to think outside her own perspective.

  “Mom, I love you, but I’m going to go now.”

  “Fine!” she snapped. “Leave, then, if that’s what you want to do so badly. Leave just like your father.”

 
Now I was seeing red.

  “Mom, grow the fuck up. Seriously, now you’re going to compare me to Dad’s cheating because I want to get off the fucking phone?!”

  It was absolutely ridiculous and, honestly, I was expecting her to come around to that fact. Even she can’t deny that she’s being absurd, right?

  “If the shoe fits,” she said shortly.

  Evidently, she could.

  “Okay, I’m leaving. Goodbye.”

  I could hear her beginning to wail again, but I couldn’t listen to her any longer. I hung up the phone and made my way to my car.

  Now I needed a drink more than fucking ever.

  Normally, as an adult, I wouldn’t think that my parents separating or divorcing would affect me very strongly. But it’s fucked up. Because their separation has been so catastrophic, of course it’s affected me.

  How could it not at this point? When my mom calls me on a regular basis to bitch about my dad? She won’t let me forget about their divorce. It’s distracting, frustrating, and I’m starting to have a hard time focusing on the things that matter. Like school and my friendships.

  And let’s not even mention romantic relationships. Before all this, I had been pretty active in the local dating scene. But now? I don’t even see the point. I can’t guarantee that whatever relationship I’m in isn’t going to end up in shambles the way my parents are.

  They say you replicate your parent’s relationship, and from what I’ve seen, that is true. And I’m not sure which parent I’d replicate most… my mother or my father. And if it’s my mother, then god help whoever I’m dating.

  I wouldn’t really know, though. I haven’t been in a long-term relationship. Even before the divorce had happened, commitment hadn’t really been a thing I had sought out.

  It’s understandable, I think. I mean, I’m in college. Hook up culture is pretty prevalent here. Can’t say I mind much. Despite not having any serious relationships, I’ve had a hell of a lot of fun. That’s all I really need right now. Fun to distract myself from the bullshit that’s going on. Hell, I’ll go get wasted every night if I have to.

  Anything for a little distraction.

  3

  Rich

  I came to class both excited and prepared, once again. I got there a little earlier so I wasn’t relegated to the front row this time, but I still sat there anyway. Like most dedicated students, I chose it because it seemed like the best place to hear the lecture and instruction.

  I was hoping that this time around, that kid Patrick wouldn’t sit next to me. I didn’t think he would, I had snubbed him pretty hard when he had invited me out. My message had been pretty clear.

  I felt a little bad for being so rude. I’m not usually this judgmental. It’s probably stemming from the insecurities I have about being one of (if not the) oldest student in this class. It’s easy to judge younger peers when I’m insecure about not being one of them.

  This was something I had to work on without taking it out on others, though. This was something I had to accept about my life. My life hadn’t gone how I had wanted it to, I hadn’t become all the things I had wanted to by 30, and that was fine.

  Whose life plan really goes the way they expect it to? Admittedly, not everyone feels like they had gone off the rails the way that I had done, but everyone has their cross to bear. Mine just happens to be that I worked so hard to hide my sexuality that I picked a lifestyle that I had never even wanted.

  But, hey, at least I’m figuring that out now, right? Some people never do. They simply continue to live the lie they built themselves until the day they die. They never find the happiness they’d always desired. It’s heartbreakingly sad.

  That wasn’t going to be me though. I was going to be fucking happy.

  That’s another thing that drives my insecurity right now. I’ve done all the things I want to in order to make myself a happier person, but I’m still not there yet. I’m on the road to a new career, but I’m still doing shitty electrician work. I’m dating men, finally, but I haven’t connected to a single person.

  And, okay, I won’t deny that I’ve hooked up with a few of them. How could I not? This is what I’ve been waiting my whole life for. But that doesn’t mean I’m just looking for sex. Quite the opposite, actually.

  One thing I liked about being with my ex-wife was the normalcy of it all. I am the kind of man who wants to settle down. I only want to find someone I connect with on an intellectual level, who I can potentially build a life with. Someone with whom to have quiet nights at home. But also someone who makes me swoon.

  Because that’s the one thing I’d never had in my marriage. I had been happy in the sense that life was settled, normal, and for the most part good. But there had been no passion, no fire, and I needed to have that finally.

  And I know, with time, it will come. You can’t find your soul mate without spending some time searching. I’m okay with that. But I’m also just the tiniest bit bitter.

  I was opening my textbook, flipping to the page that instructs you on how to rewind your camera roll, when I heard a familiar voice.

  “Hey man, what’s up?”

  It was Patrick, and he was sitting down at the desk next to me. Dammit, I guess I hadn’t made my opinion of him obvious enough.

  But oh well, It’s probably for the best that he didn’t feel insulted by me. I wasn’t the kindest to him, and if I could go back and redo that, I would. I guess this would be my chance to change my attitude a little.

  “Hello,” I answered with a forced smile.

  “How did your roll go?” he asked. “I think mine was kind of shit. I’ve pretty much been drunk since last class.” He laughed.

  Ugh, why do young people do this? Brag about their binge drinking as if it’s some impressive feat. It’s really not, it seems more depressing to me than anything.

  But, of course, I didn’t say that. “I think it went well, actually. I’m excited to develop it.”

  “Yeah, me too,” he said. “That part of this should be fun, at least.”

  I nodded, grateful that the professor was walking into the classroom. It gave me an out of this conversation without being rude.

  “Hello, class,” she said as she entered.

  The rest of the class muttered hello. She dove right into instructing us on how to rewind all of the film in our cameras.

  I already had, and I was convinced I’d done it right too. There is supposedly a release of pressure once the film is successfully back in its canister. The wheel to rewind is supposed to start moving very quickly, as opposed to the slow churn when the film is still out of the canister. My wheel was completely loose now.

  “Now, we’re all going to try to develop film today. I know that may seem soon to some of you, but this is a fast-paced course. I want to have you develop your first roll today so that you can see any mistakes you made. I do not expect this first roll to be a successful one for many of you, but this is your practice roll. You can learn how to develop, see if you metered your light correctly, and, over the course of the class, you’ll have the opportunity to print some of them if you’d like. But you don’t have to… For this first roll I’m only going to look at your negatives to make sure you shot your film. I’ll be giving you your first real assignment at the end of this class.”

  I was giddy to hear that, though also mildly disappointed that this roll wasn’t going to amount to much. I’d put a lot of work into it. But it was exciting to hear that, in the very near future, I’ll be shooting based on an actual assignment. It’ll be more of a challenge to shoot whatever is assigned to me as opposed to shooting whatever I want.

  The rest of the class went by rather smoothly. Or, at least, it did for me. I noticed a few people having problems with developing: there were definitely a few rolls that either came up blank or had only streaks of photographs shining through the negatives.

  And I’m not criticizing them or trying to seem superior at all. The process isn’t exactly user-friendly. You ha
ve to load up your entire roll of film in a complete pitch-black room in order to not ruin your film with light. Then you’ve got to make sure you’re timing your chemicals perfectly after you go to develop the thing. There was a lot of room for mistakes. I completely understood the importance of having a mistake roll of film before the professor gives us a real assignment.

  I’ve got to say, though, after drying my film and checking out the negatives on a light box, I was pretty pleased with what I’d done. I was eager to get into the dark room and print at least a couple of these bad boys.

  To my surprise, Patrick didn’t seem to have a lot of trouble today. I wasn’t next to him the entire class, of course, and I was grateful for that. We were all moving around to develop our film. But I kept a distant eye on him, just out of curiosity, and he wasn’t struggling. He put his roll of film next to mine in the dryer and I was surprised to see that it came out well. Not too dark, not too light, which means, not only did he develop the film well, but he also managed to meter his photos correctly.

  I considered commenting on his good work, but I was scared to start a whole new conversation with him. So I kept to myself until we had all finished and were back in our seats for the end of the class.

  “All right, everyone, great work today. I’m going to have you all sign your name on the top of your negative sheets and hand them in at my front desk when you leave. But don’t get up yet,” she cautioned to the people already packing their bags, “I need to give you your next assignment. We’re delving right into a section on portrait photography, so, look to the person sitting to the right of you. That is your new project partner. Starting from the first person over, each row should have three partnerships.”

  Oh, shit.

  My head immediately jerked to the end of my row, hoping that Patrick wasn’t going to be assigned to me. But, sure enough, there were two partnerships formed to my right. I was the fifth person, Patrick was the sixth, and that meant we were partnered.