The camera flashes. Click!
A moment trapped.
Trent’s arm is still around me, his warmth still pressed against my side. The afterimage of his almost-smile burns into my mind. And now, it’s not just in my mind, it’s in the Polaroid. Proof that for one fraction of a second, I stood too close, looking at him while he looked back with a smile at me.
Trent plucks the photo before I can, shaking it like it’s just another snapshot. But I already know.
It’s not just another snapshot. It’s one of my secrets exposed.
“Trent,” I whisper, tugging his sleeve.
Behind him, Grandpa is being pulled away into another dance. He turns into me, a heavy warmth, too close. He’s still shaking the photo, but less vigorously; more like for something to do. Or... for more air between us.
My lungs feel tight, and yet... I step further into the cocoon of it. Just him and me and my panic. “Trent, that photo...” I shake my head. “Grandpa can’t see it.”
His fingers stop waving it. “Can I?”
I hesitate. Shake my head. “Get rid of it.”
He pauses, and I think he’ll look, but he lowers his hand. “Give me your wallet.”
His voice is steady, controlled, and... I do as he asks. I find and hand over my wallet.
Without looking at the snapshot, he slips it inside. It’s too big to fit and part of our heads peek over the top of the leather, but I think I understand.Keep your secret.Until you’re ready to bring it out yourself.
I fumble with the wallet and drop it. Cards spill out between our feet, but the photo stays lodged inside.
Trent crouches, helping me pick them up. Then, he pauses, staring at one card. “Youcandrive. You have a restricted license.”
I stiffen.
I stole back one secret only to give another away.
Trent stares at it again. “Ah, it’s expired. You can get another without having to sit the theory again?—”
I snatch it off him and stuff it back in the wallet. “I’m good.”
He remains crouched, staring at the spot I was just in, taking a few extra beats before he too rises. His eyes search for mine under the spin of the disco ball and it’s too much, too intimate. The kind of eyes that... that...
I wave to no one on the other side of the room and plough my way over, leaving Trent behind. I end up at the mocktail bar. John’s behind it now, and winks as he sneaks out a flask. I snicker and nod. I need it.
I take my very potent cocktail to the card table and play a game of poker with Dev. Then I play against Lipstick, Natalie. Then Clara. Then Mr Stevenson. And Jack. Grandpa has a turn, swearing heartily when he too loses. Every time one gets up to leave, I snag another before Trent can sweep in from the sides. He’s watching. Waiting.
I can’t face his curiosity right now.
Cards are easy.
Grandpa shakes his head, rising.
“Play another game,” I plead as he rises.
“You’ve thoroughly robbed me.”
“But—”
“I’ll play.” I stiffen. Trent settles with quiet calm into the chair opposite me.
Grandpa grins like this should be a fun match, and he starts shuffling the deck.
