And now I get it. Ben’s not from money. Being an artist is a risk, a privilege he won’t consider, and to him, I’ve had this easy life with so many more opportunities because of my connection to the St. Clairs.
For a moment, I worry I’ve ruined everything, but then Ben turns toward me again and I can feel the hum of energy between us. Before I can say anything else, he leans down and kisses me.
—
Over the courseof the night, I learn that not only is Ben a talented photographer, but he is talented in other areas as well.
We stay up until the sun rises, sometimes talking, sometimes listening to the rain, and deep within me, a knot loosens. He shows me portraits he’d shot of people on the streets of New York City: an elderly Chinese woman, wearing a black dress and hat, a deep sadness in her eyes. “She fled China during the Cultural Revolution. Her son was a history teacher in Beijing and someone had written an anti-Communist phrase on his chalkboard. He was sent to a pig farm, and she never saw him again,” he explains. “She teared up when she learned I went to Princeton…it was the life she would have wanted for her son. Someday I want to make a book of these photographs and their stories.”
I ask him about growing up in Singapore, and he asks me about moving from California to Greenwich. I read him the short story I wrote about my sister, about the year after our mom died, when Maya left for college and I moved in with Aunt Ella, who already had three kids of her own. The story is about how I never told Maya about the kids who teased me, the days I had to run home, or the nights I went without dinner. It feels strange, that Ben should know the things I’ve never told Maya, but as he and I lie naked under his sheets, the glow of my phone the only light in the room, I feel a knot inside my heart loosen slightly.
—
A couple ofhours later, Ben slips from bed, stirring me awake. “You sleep okay?”
The rain has stopped and a cool breeze drafts in from the crack in the window. The square patch of light on the wall has turned from blue-gray to gold, and the birds are chirping outside.
“Yeah.” I push myself onto my elbow and look over at Ben, who raises a camera.
“Turn your face a little toward the light.”
I roll my eyes. “Do you take pictures of everyone you hook up with?”
“Only the ones I like.” Ben grins, and I know he’s joking. He’d been in my freshman seminar, so I knew he’d had a girlfriend who went to Harvard, I think, or Yale, for at least a couple years; he didn’t have a reputation for sleeping around.
Laughing, I push his camera away with one hand and cover myface with the other. It’s one thing to hook up with a guy, and another to let him take a photo of you first thing in the morning with caked-over drool on the side of your mouth.
Sitting up, I take in his face. His sleek black hair sticking up to one side, his deep brown eyes.Click.The shutter goes off.
“How’s this.” I sit up, letting the sheet fall off my chest, and face the window, exposing my back to him and giving him a half-joking sultry stare over my shoulder.
“Stay there.” He presses the shutter.Click.“That’s perfect.” He snaps a few more, then sets the camera down and kisses me.
—
On my walkback, I don’t care who sees me. I’m buzzing, lit up, glowing with the memory of Ben’s arms curled around me. The warmth of his bed.
I’m about to text Amy whendouchebag—do not answerfills the screen. Sighing, I pick up.
“What?”
“Naomi.” I’m annoyed at how much I like the sound of his voice.
“What’s up?”
Liam sighs. “I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“Okay…”
“I wanted to talk to you last night.”
A flash of him making out with the girl sends anger whirling through me, and I tighten my grip on the phone. “Why?”
“Listen.” Liam is silent a moment, and when he speaks again his voice is low. “It’s about Theodore Hunt’s company—I thought you’d want to know, since you interned at his fund last summer.”
I stop walking and look over my shoulder to make sure no one is listening. “What are you talking about? Liam, is this because of last night?”
“No, I’m serious. Meet me at Sterling. I’ve got something to show you.”
