Page 24 of Picture Us

“Thanks for teaching me.” Rose smiled back at Drew, a tension lingering between them from the close proximity of the dark room.

Drew smiled, looking away. “You’re welcome, thanks for helping.”

Were they nervous?Rose licked her lips, hesitating.Fuck it.

“Now you’ll have to let me teach you Photoshop.” Rose wiggled her eyebrows, an excited smile on her face.

Without thinking, Drew scoffed. “I wouldn’t be much of a photographer if I needed that.”

Rose tried to avoid letting her shock show.That’s so fucking classic. Of course they still don’t respect my work.

Clenching her jaw, Rose shot out of her seat and grabbed her bag. “I’ll see you when you finally finish developing. Send them over when you’re done… which will be what? Two weeks?”

The metal of her stool scraped against the wood of the floor, jolting Drew out of whatever judgment haze they were stuck in. “Wait, Rose. Come on. You know what I mean.”

Rose headed for the door, looking over her shoulder. “Oh, I knowexactlywhat you mean.”

Before Drew could manage another pathetic word, Rose swung open the metal door. As she stood on the threshold, she stopped for a moment. But when Drew had nothing else to say, she slammed the door behind herself and headed downstairs.

Her feet were heavy on the cement steps. She had no interest in staying in this stupid fucking building for another second.

As soon as the glass door of Drew’s building swung open, Rose was bombarded by the loud honks and sirens of the Lower East Side. Aside from the insane rent, it was the excruciating, ceaseless noise that had driven her out of Manhattan.

Her brain was on fire, trying to process an immense amount of sensory input after emerging from the isolation tank that was Drew’s apartment. For such an old building, the loft had strangely noise-proof windows.

Once she got her bearings, Rose headed north toward Tompkins Square Park. As she stormed down the street, she pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts.

She only knew two other people who lived in the Drew’s area, and conveniently, they were the only two people Rose wanted to talk to right now. Her leg shook as the dial tone rang in her ear.

The phone clicked as the line was answered.

Rose bit the nail of her index finger. “Hey, are you guys around?”

11

DREW

Their apartment was quieterthan a library after midnight. Drew could hear their own swallowing louder than music blaring from concert speakers.

Fuck.

Looking down at the pictures laid out across the table, they shook their head. Rose took an interest in their craft: a serious interest. And they fucking ruined it.

Their phone buzzed with a text from Diana:

Mary’s tonight? Game’s on.

Drew let out the air they were holding hostage in their lungs. They typed and sent a text back within a matter of seconds.

God yes. Time?

While they worked out the details, Drew scanned through their emails. Another reminder to apply for the grant sat at the top of their inbox.

It was already almost four, and they hadn’t eaten all day. The grant would have to wait.

They quickly scarfed down some leftover pad thai from the fridge, took a quick shower, and started getting dressed. With a cropped button down and a pair of nice trousers, they were ready to head out to Brooklyn. The match was going to start at seven, and at this rate, Drew would get there right as it was starting.

Before they knew it, Drew was on the L with everyone else heading out to Bushwick for a party or a hookup.

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