Her smile was so big it almost hurt her cheeks as she texted him back.
VERY MYSTERIOUS
And sweet, too. If the rest of the girls on campus knew that Sean Morrison wasn’t just gorgeous, but nice, as well, they’d never leave him alone. Jealousy rose swift and hot at the thought of anyone else with him, even though he wasn’t hers.
Not yet, anyway. Because she kept pushing him away.
But what if she stopped doing that?
What if she pulled him closer, instead?
FRIDAY NIGHT AROUND 5?
After she quickly texted back to let him know that time would work, he sent one more.
I’LL PICK YOU UP AT THE LIBRARY
Her laughter rang through the parking lot at how well he knew her already, that she was likely one of the only students on campus who would choose studying in the library over hanging out and listening to a band play outside on a sunny Friday afternoon.
And just as he’d made her forget her nerves about going into her meeting with her professor, she now felt much less tense when she finally pressed the play button on her mother’s voice mail. After all, everything else that had been worrying her today had ended up going so much better than she expected. Maybe her mother’s phone call would, too. In fact, maybe Genevieve had finally realized during the past three weeks in which she hadn’t responded to any of Serena’s phone calls or emails that she wasn’t trying to hurt her or rebel. She was just trying to live her own dreams.
Of course, as soon as she heard her mother’s voice, she realized just how stupidly hopeful she’d been. Because Genevieve Britten was very upset with Serena. Very, very, very upset.
“How could you?”
Her entire message was those three little words. But she’d managed to convey every last nuance of how she felt with them.
With a shaking hand, Serena dialed her mother’s number, and it wasn’t until voice mail picked up that she was able to unclench her teeth and take in a full breath.
“Hi, it’s me. Sorry I didn’t call you back earlier, but I was in the library and then in a meeting with a professor and classes until now.”
She tried to make her voice sound relaxed, but not like she was actually having fun at college. Especially not having fun with a boy in his bed, since she knew from her mother’s message that was where Genevieve’s brain had immediately gone. Likely it had been a two-bottle night.
“I was just as surprised as you were to see those paparazzi pictures, but I swear it’s not what it looked like. I promise you that he’s just a friend and we were just grabbing a bite to eat.”
She didn’t bother trying to deny the fact that she and Sean had been eating pizza and drinking Coke, not when her mother had surely already cataloged every sin in the pictures, including the dumpy clothes and baseball cap Serena had been wearing.
Hoping that short and sweet was better just in case she accidentally said too much, or ended up sounding too guilty, she closed with, “Everything’s fine here and I’ll keep sending you emails about my classes and what I’m learning.”
Serena wrote Genevieve a long email every week about her classes, and even though her mother hadn’t responded to any of them, she hoped she was at least starting to realize that Serena was serious about staying in school. And that she loved what she was learning.
Hope was a funny thing. Because even after she’d spent nineteen years with her mother acting in one specific way—namely, putting Serena’s career before absolutely everything else, including the true happiness of either of them—she still kept wishing things could be different.
And that maybe one day, if she could just find the right way to frame things, her mother might actually see the real her.
CHAPTER TEN
Sean kept looking at his phone, the first time he’d ever waited for a girl to text him back, but Serena was obviously done sending him messages for the night. At least it had ended on the victory of her agreeing to go out with him on Friday. Especially after the crazy day it had been.
Blindsided by seeing his pictures—and partial life story—online. Trying his best to talk Serena off the ledge about it. Forcing himself to leave her alone with a drooling professor that he didn’t trust as far as he could throw the guy. Then dealing with his team at practice—and his brothers in his frat house—all wanting to know what was up with him and Serena.
That, at least, had been easy. He’d warned them to watch their mouths because Serena was special.
So special that he’d actually taken her into the archives and talked to her about photography. She’d gotten it, too, not just the brilliant technique in the photos, but the passion behind them.
Just the way, he couldn’t stop thinking, she seemed to get him.
There weren’t a lot of people outside his family who knew he was into photography. And it sure as hell had never come up with any of the other girls he’d been with.
But ever since this afternoon, he’d found himself looking at things differently, as though through the lens of his camera, studying and framing the world the way he always used to. Before his mom died.
He hadn’t purposely blocked the camera lens in his brain, hadn’t made a conscious decision to never take another picture. It had happened all on its own. Every day that she’d gotten closer to going, it had been harder and harder for him to take pictures to bring back to her hospital room to show to her. And still, he’d known he wasn’t hiding anything from his mom, that she could see just how hard it was for him to find the beauty in everything for her. He’d just kept digging as deep, as far down, as he could up until that final day.
The day when he’d stopped being able to see the beauty in anything.
From that day forward, he’d only been looking for numb. And for the past three months, that was all he’d gone for to replace grief.
Until Serena had appeared, like a beautiful angel, before him.
He’d thought his love for photography had died when his mother had, had known he couldn’t possibly take another picture without being able to show it to her. But now, suddenly, he found himself wondering, could he do it again? Could he take a picture one day and not feel only the pain, the helplessness, of watching his mom slip away? Because just as he’d been overwhelmed by the urge to capture Serena’s beauty on film in the library with the sunlight shining down on her, the same intense yearning had come over him again in the photo archives when she’d been studying Ansel Adams’s photo, Bridalveil Fall.
The knock came at his door a beat before he heard a female voice say, “Sean? Are you in there?”