“Not bad actually. How about you?”
“I don’t have one, but we get to use the school ones, and I’m quite good with that. The teacher says I have an eye for it.”
His large feet were in worn sneakers, and he wore a T-shirt two sizes too big. Baggy shorts hung off his skinny hips.
“What’s your name?”
“Mikey Tucker.”
Her hunch had been right. Mikey Tucker was a local kid who Branna and Jake McBride had kind of unofficially adopted. As had their posse. She took him for about fourteen now.
“So what are you photographing at school at the moment?” Hope walked and Mikey fell in beside her. This place had magical qualities, she was sure of it. Shafts of light filtering through the trees touched here and there. The scent was raw and natural. Hope loved it. She could breathe here, surrounded by what she loved. She felt the tightness inside her ease with every step.
“A bonsai tree that my teacher, Mr. Bird, brought in.”
“So here’s the thing about photography, Mikey. It’s all about manipulation and capturing light. Some people will tell you it’s about the camera, but actually the real magic is getting the light right. A really well-lit subject can be photographed badly, just as a badly lit subject won’t look good.”
Hope took some time with Mikey to think about something other than the implosion that was her life. Photography was her life, so why not share some of that.
Mikey pulled out his phone.
“You’re making a phone call now… really?”
“No, I’m taking notes.”
“Okay, right. You’re not into notepads then?”
He gave her a look that told her she was a dinosaur.
“Whatever. Now listen up. If I was to photograph those trees there, how would you have me do it?” Hope pointed to the left.
He studied the scene.
“I’d stand here.” He pointed to a spot a foot from where Hope stood.
“Sure, and that would be a good shot, but there’s a couple of things you need to consider when taking pictures of trees. Firstly, which is the lead actor tree, and which ones are his supporting cast. Secondly, you don’t need to center everything, because often the perfectly centered shot loses its balance.”
“Well, hell. Have a little faith, Hope.”
Hope turned to find Faith Harris coming toward her, tall, elegant, with beautiful deep brown eyes, soft arched brows, and thick lashes. Hope had been jealous of those eyelashes in school. Faith’s Native American heritage was in the thick, straight long black hair and mocha-colored skin. They’d been friends of a sort in school, even though Faith was older. Weirdly, Faith had liked Hope, even though she’d been one of the “it” kids. That could have had something to do with Hope doing her homework however.
“Have a little hope, Faith,” she said by way of reply. It had always been their thing to greet each other this way.
“Ha,” Mikey said. “That was quite funny.”
“For old people, do you mean?” Faith said.
“Yeah,” he added. “So I don’t have anyone to build my boat with, because Jake’s with Buster, Newman is with Noah, and the Texans are pairing up. Then Branna is with Annabelle, and Macy is judging. Willow told me she’s drawing, too. So will you two help me?”
“Are we your last resort? Because if that’s the case, I’m offended,” Faith said.
Mikey was a bright boy, and simply smiled at Faith.
“I’m in because I want to beat Noah, and she’ll help I’m sure,” she added, nodding to Hope. “She was really smart in school.”
“I’m smart,” Mikey said, “so that could work.”
He wasn’t bragging, just stating it as it was, Hope realized.
