As soon as Evan turned the corner, Cal ducked. He scrambled behind a large marble crypt, pressing a finger to his lips and waving at me.
I bit back a laugh and ducked behind a weeping willow tree.
“Cal?” Evan’s voice floated back. “Guys? Not funny. Seriously. I will leave you here.”
“Boo,” Cal whispered.
He wasn’t looking at Evan. He was looking at me.
I was crouched by the willow tree, the camera in my hands. Cal was crouched behind the marble crypt, wearing that black hoodie, his combat boots dusty, a mischievous, boyish grin plastered on his face. The sunlight was filtering through the leaves, hitting his dark hair.
He didn’t look like the “Deadlock” character. He didn’t look like the tough guy from North Philly. He looked young. He looked happy.
I raised the camera.
WhirrrClick.
The sound was loud in the quiet air.
Cal blinked, looking at the lens, his smile widening just a fraction.
“Did you just take a picture of me hiding?”
“Yeah,” I whispered, pulling the film out as it ejected. “First portrait.”
“Guys!” Evan yelled. “I am calling an Uber!”
Cal laughed, standing up and stepping out.
“We’re right here, Scooby Doo. Relax.”
I stood up, shaking the photo gently as the image started to ghost into existence. It was blurry, and the lighting was weird, but there he was. Cal Kincaid, hiding in a graveyard, smiling at me with eyes that were soft and hazel and full of a secret we shared.
I looked at it, feeling a lump form in my throat. I knew, instantly, that I would keep this photo for the rest of my life.
“Let me see,” Cal said, walking over.
He looked at the developing photo. He didn’t make a joke. He just reached out, his finger brushing the edge of the paper.
“Not bad, Reed,” Cal said softly. Then, louder: “Evan! Get over here! Group photo!”
Evan trudged over, looking relieved we were alive. “Fine. But make it quick. I feel a cold spot.”
Cal pulled out his phone, and held it up.
“Smile, idiots.”
I held up the Polaroid camera in the shot. Evan threw up a peace sign. Cal stuck his tongue out.
Click.
Cal posted it to Instagram immediately.
@DeadlockUWF: Off day adventures with the Giant and the Prince. Louisville is weird.??
He didn’t tag me. He didn’t say anything sentimental. But he posted us.Together.
“Okay!” Evan shouted, marching back toward the main road. “We saw the graves! We saw the dead people! Now can we please go somewhere that serves beer? I need to wash the ghosts off me.”
