Page 80 of Touch Me

What the hell?

It’s me. My face, everywhere, cast in a red haze. At least a dozen pictures of me hang drying on lines crisscrossing the room. “Jace?” I turn to look at him. His eyes are on the floor. “Why am I... everywhere?”

“It’s nothing, really. I was just out one day, uh, while you were having lunch, and I saw you, so I snapped a couple of pictures. The lighting was good, so,” he shrugs, avoiding my eyes.

I take stock of the photos. I’m wearing different clothing in some of them. Hair up in one. Hair down in another. These were taken on more than one occasion. Me laughing, reading, sitting at a picnic table with my chin resting on my hand. I remember some of these days. I take lunch with Jen, Alex, and Ashley and we go to the park or the beach.

Is it just coincidence that he’s out and happens to be where I am on several occasions? Is he following me? I have to be careful how I approach this. If I’ve learned anything over the last couple of months, it’s that Jace is skittish. I can’t push too hard or he’ll hole up in his room for days,again.

“Cool.” I walk slowly around the room, studying the rows of photos. “So where are the rest of the photos?”

He clears his throat and brushes something off the table. “The rest?”

“Yeah, like the rest of the film. Surely, you didn’t just take photos of me while you were out. What else is there?”

He meets my eyes. Even through the red glow cast over the room I read his expression. He’s caught, and he knows it.

“I, uh, haven’t gotten to them yet,” he stammers.

“Jace?”

“Hmm?” he whispers, fidgeting with his tools.

“I remember a conversation we had a few weeks ago. When I asked you what you go in search for when you venture out with your camera.”

“Uh huh.”

“You said whatever interests you.” I round the corner of the table and take a few steps towards him. “Whatever catches your eye that day.”

“Right,” he says on a breath, swallowing as I move closer.

“But these were taken on different days.” I gesture behind me without taking my eyes off him. “You see, I’m wearing different clothes in some of them.”

He looks up at the hanging pictures. “Yes, well...”

“Jace,” I say, closer now. Less than two feet separate us. His eyes dart to mine. His expression changes from trepidation to curiosity. He’s told me about his issues, and I learned early on to keep my distance. We tried the touching thing and it didn’t end well. But he doesn’t look scared. “Does this mean I interest you?”

He scoffs and looks at his feet. “That’s a weird question. You already know... I mean, I just happen to see you out and—”

“You just happen to see me out several times over the last few weeks?”

He digs his shoe into the floor at his feet. “This looks worse than it is, really,” he whispers.

“But it doesn’t. It’s intriguing. Cute even.” I take another step, and I’m so close I have to look up to see his eyes.

He looks over my shoulder and clenches his jaw. “Cassie, don’t.”

“Well, what if you were in control? What if you did the touching?” Before, when we experimented, it was me who touched him. I take a step back to give him some breathing room.

Before I can even blink, he takes a stride toward me. I move back a step. He takes another step, and I move back until my back hits the wall. Memories of the elevator flood my mind.

You think I don’t want to touch you?

The light is behind him, so I can’t make out his face. He’s nothing but a red and black silhouette. He rests a hand on the wall above my shoulder and all but cages me in. His chest rises and falls with his quickened breath.

“What kind of game are you playing, Cass?”

“The same one we’ve both been playing this whole time.” He’s silent for a beat, head cocked.

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