Page 94 of We Can't Be Friends

We’re making our way back toward the entrance when we pass a photo booth.

Chloe stops dead in her tracks. I accidentally take a few steps before realizing she isn’t beside me.

“I didn’t know they still made these,” she gasps. “I’ve always wanted to do a classic photo booth.”

I back up, spinning to face her. Her eyes twinkle with excitement.

“Here. Give me your cup, and you can go do it.”

“I can’t do it alone. That’s weird.”

“It’s not. Go.” I pluck the cup from her hands, nudging her to go to the booth.

She sighs, giving up quickly, to my surprise.

Chloe ducks to enter the booth, closing the curtain behind her. I can’t see her, but I can hear the beeping of the camera, counting down each of the four photos.

As soon as the final photo is taken, the film sheet of pictures prints in black and white.

Only one copy prints. I snatch it quickly, admiring Chloe.

She’s smiling in the first one, with a shoulder tucked up to her cheek.

The second, she’s snarling at the camera, biting her lip.

The third is Chloe fixing her hair, hands running through the roots, fluffing it. Her eyes are mid-eye roll.

In the final photo, she has her hat beanie back on and pulled over her eyes. Her lips are pushed out, and she’s leaning closer to the camera as if giving it a kiss.

What I would give to be that camera.

I pocket the photos.

Chloe pulls back the curtain, searching for where the photos print. “Has anything printed?”

I shake my head no.

“Oh. Maybe that’s why no one is in line. It doesn’t work.”

Chloe’s face falls in slight disappointment. I do feel bad that I lied to her…

“Try it again,” I suggest.

“You have to do it this time.” I shake my head again. “Come on, Pretty Boy.” Gray eyes flutter beneath her dark lashes. “Please.”

As if I thought I could ever say no to her.

Whoa.

Who is this Callum Sullivan? And where did the old one go?

“There’s no line. We have to,” she tacks on, sticking her bottom lip out. She reapplied her lip gloss after finishing her drink, and now it’s teasing me. Her mouth is begging to be kissed, and I might beg her to let me.

“Okay.”

She doesn’t say thank you, but she does smile at me. Big, cheek to cheek, the tip of her tongue peeking through her front teeth. Fuck, she’s perfect.

I set our cups on the ground. Chloe takes my hand, pulling me behind her and inside the booth.

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