Page 53 of Brad & Finn
Brad’s face cleared, like clouds parting over the sun, and Finn knew immediately that he was going to go along with whatever Brad’s plan was. As Brad retrieved the camera and pulled the film out of his pocket, Finn marveled at the way his hands deftly ripped open the foil around the film and slotted it into the back of the camera.
“I don’t remember ever seeing you with a Polaroid in school. How do you know how to do that?” Finn asked, breaking the easy silence between them.
Brad lifted the peephole to his eye and pointed the camera at the ground, adjusting something on the side. “My mom had one I would take with me when I walked along the creek or hiked out to Yellow Branch Falls. I never really cared for nature photography, but she loved it. She kept several albums of all the dumb photos I took over the years.”
Finn’s heart trembled for the boy who just wanted to make his mom smile after fate had dealt her—and him—one shitty hand after another. The night before, Brad had told Finn in theshower, where the only ones who could hear his secret were the leaky shower head and the rusty shower curtain rings, how he’d been sending his mom money for years. It seemed like Brad had spent his entire life caring for everyone around him.
“I’m sure she didn’t think they were dumb,” Finn said, placing his yearbook on top of the others.
Brad pulled the camera away from his face and peered at Finn. “You look incredible today.”
Finn’s brain tripped over the subject change. “Uhm…I…Chloe picked it out—I mean, not this morning, obviously, we were in a bit of a rush, but?—”
Brad pointed the camera at him, and his mind went blank. Apparently, after having cameras pointed at him for most of the day, his body took over, and he crossed his arms over his chest and tried to smile as naturally as he could. The camera flashed, and they both watched as the film slowly printed out. With a gentle hand, Brad laid the photo on the picnic bench, where it was cast in shadow from the tabletop.
He lifted the camera back up to his face. “Do that pose from your cheer,” Brad said, the corner of his mischievous smile barely visible past the bulk of the camera.
Finn chewed on the side of his lip, his cheeks burning pink, and Brad snapped the camera again.
“Hey! I didn’t even start to do the pose,” Finn complained.
Brad grabbed the photo and quickly snapped another picture.
“Brad!”
“That one was perfect for Chloe. Now give me sweet.”
Finn glared at him, and Brad laughed but kept the camera raised.
“What do you mean it was perfect for Chloe?” Finn asked. “And what about the other two? Should you be using all her film?”
Brad lowered the camera, placed the two photos in his hand on the seat, and gave Finn a flat look. “I said, give mesweet, sweetheart.”
Finn’s blush spread, creeping under the neckline of the short-sleeve button down Chloe had picked out for him. “I…don’t even know what that means. Or why you call me that. I’m not sweet.”
“You’re incredibly sweet and kind and caring—even when you’re sleep deprived and breathing fire.”
Finn pouted, and Brad snapped another photo.
“Bradley!” he shouted.
It sounded so ridiculous coming out of his mouth that he couldn’t help but laugh. Brad was laughing, too, and the second the photo printed out, he snapped another, and a few seconds later, a third.
“God, you and Chloe are too cute,” he said, as he snapped a photo which captured Finn with his eyebrow halfway to his hairline.
“I wouldn’t let her catch you calling her that. You haven’t seen ‘breathing fire’ until you see her pissed at a man trying to compliment her.”
“I know. I mostly said it to get a rise out of you.”
Finn would have stomped his foot if it wasn’t at risk of being photographed.
Brad finally lowered the camera and set down the rest of the photos. There were seven in total, and Finn still had no idea what they were going to do with them. He walked over to inspect them, and Brad slid a hand into Finn’s back pocket, below the level of the picnic table so no one would be able to see if they happened to glance over.
“Brad…” he whispered.
Brad pressed in against his side. “Is this not okay?”
“N-no, it is… I…”
