‘God, why didn’t you go with them?’ The accusation is out of my mouth before I can stop it. Clearly something’s not working. If they were such a good match, why aren’t they back yet? Havethey decided to abandon the date and go home altogether? Was I right in my assessment that they weren’t a good pair after all? ‘You should’ve gone with them! Isn’t your whole job taking pictures of the couples?’
‘That’s not my whole job,’ Salman says with an amused smile.
‘Yeah, but it’s a big part of your job. You should be taking it more seriously. Why did you even take this job in the first place?’
‘I am taking it seriously. Sadia said she wanted me to focus on candid photos of them while they’re cooking and around the campfire, rather than on the walk, and I agreed. It’s better for them to have that time alone to get to know each other, and besides, the aesthetics here at the cabin are better for socials.’
Oh. I guess that makes sense. A romantic nature walk wouldn’t be quite so romantic with a third wheel in tow, snapping pictures every second.
‘Why areyoutaking it so seriously?’ he asks, flipping the question back to me. ‘I’d have thought you’d jump at the chance to work with Shirin and Lipi for the summer.’
I sigh and look down at my feet, drawing circles in the earth with the toes of my boots. ‘I want to get Ma on Sadia’s list,’ I say, not sure why it feels so easy to offer up the truth to him. I try to assess what he makes of this by studying his face, but he’s giving me nothing. ‘I want her to find someone, especially with me leaving for uni next year. I know Sadia can find her a great match. And the apps are a minefield these days – I don’t know if she could hack it. She can hardly use WhatsApp as it is.’
‘Amma keeps archiving me, and at this point I can’t tell if it’s accidental or intentional,’ Salman says. ‘Honestly, I don’t get her sometimes. The woman can mark herself safe from a tsunami in Asia, even though she’s all the way in the UK, but she can’t stop archiving me on a daily basis.’
‘Is that what your disagreement was about?’ I tease, recalling one of the comments he’d left on the date proposals aboutarguing with his parents.
Salman turns away from me, his smile faltering. ‘No. That was about me wanting to pursue photography after I’m done with college.’
I frown in confusion. ‘Haven’t they always encouraged you to do just that?’
‘They have. But turns out they thought of it as more of a hobby – they didn’t expect me to give up uni for it.’
Understanding washes over me. ‘You don’t want to go to uni any more?’
He shakes his head in response. It catches me by surprise. Salman’s always been good academically – his grades would guarantee him a spot anywhere he wants. And for as long as I’ve known him, he’s been excited to go to university, chatting about the freedom he’d find there and the things he was looking forward to learning.
‘Why not?’ I ask and then immediately add, ‘I’m not criticising. I’m just curious, that’s all. Couldn’t you study photography at uni? Then you all get what you want.’
He presses his lips together in thought before responding. ‘I’m not so sure I want a bunch of professors judging my photos. Art is so subjective, and it feels like using a scale to grade my stuff ruins the beauty of it. I’m not ready for that. And I don’t know .?.?. what if I study photography and it stops beingmine?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Just that if all these people poke and prod at the one thing that’s always been my safe place, what if it turns into something else? It’ll become a point of critique, a thing to explain, when all I’ve ever wanted is for my photography to stand on its own merits. I don’t want to have to justify why I choose to take pictures of how the afternoon light hits the kitchen counter in such a way that I understand why Mum hums as she rolls porota.’ He sighs. ‘I just want it to be mine. For a little longer, atleast. Maybe one day I’ll go to uni, but for now I want to hold on to it without all the voices.’
‘But how will you grow? Won’t uni be a good time to learn more?’
He shrugs. ‘It might be, but I’m OK learning on my own for the moment. I’m happy experimenting with my style and reading up on technique in my own time. For now, I just want to enjoy the stillness I feel right before I click the camera shutter.’
I don’t want to question his decision any more, but I can’t help myself. ‘What will you do instead?’
He turns to me with a smile. ‘Keep taking pictures – what else?’
‘Is that why you’re not working at Petal Poush this summer? Because of the argument?’ I say, both afraid to know the answer and itching to at the same time. The idea that he only got the job to set up a partnership between Petal Poush and Eternally Yours still lingers at the back of my mind.
‘Ugh, not exactly,’ he says with a grimace. But if that’s not the reason, then what could it be?
‘But enough about me, what about you? Are you still hoping to go to Edinburgh next year?’
‘Yeah.’ I let out a heavy breath. ‘I know it’s selfish. I should stick around Bristol and be close to Ma but .?.?.’
‘It’s all you’ve ever wanted,’ he finishes for me. We used to talk about Edinburgh all the time when we were dating, imagining all the adventures we would have around the city and across the country.
In a twisted way, I’m gutted knowing he won’t be there in Edinburgh, especially after how we’ve reconnected this summer. It would have eased the homesickness knowing he wasn’t too far away; he’s a piece of home I could reach out to if I needed to. At the same time, it’s impossible not to support him. He’s doing something he’s clearly passionate about, and going to uni isn’tthe road everyone needs to take.
‘Yeah. I know I’m only thinking of myself when I hope that Ma finds someone before uni—’
‘But that’s not really why you want her to find someone, though, is it?’
