A Little Friendly Advice by Siobhan Vivian

Author:Siobhan Vivian
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2008-10-15T04:00:00+00:00

From the back pegs of Charlie’s BMX, I lean forward and give directions out of the parking lot and onto West Market. His hunter-green baseball cap smells like salt and coconut shampoo. When I grip his shoulders, static electricity pops through my fingertips and my first instinct is to let go, but I don’t. Charlie pedals forward and our bodies collectively ease into a sharp left turn. I wonder if this is what sex is like.

He wisely chooses the sidewalk over the street because traffic is unpredictable, between all the stores and parking spots and traffic lights. Unfortunately, the pavement is just as treacherous because the blocks are laid unevenly, mimicking the aftermath of an earthquake. He twists and turns his handlebars expertly and steers us clear of the biggest bumps.

The sound of his fat, rubbery tires crunching fallen leaves keeps the silence between us from being too quiet. Still, I know I should try for some conversation — if only to prove that, contrary to my recent behavior, I’m actually capable of some normalcy. My veins knot up in fiery bundles, pumping bursts of energy and fear and giddiness through my body.

“That’s where my mom got my Polaroid,” I say, wagging my elbow in the direction of the camera store and remembering what brought me and Charlie together in the first place.

“Cool. Do you want to study photography or something in college?”

“I’m thinking about it,” I say, even though I never really have. But I guess that would be neat. Better than studying math.

“Hey, does that shop do repairs?” Charlie tries to turn and look at me, but we almost crash into Akron Library’s book drop. “Sorry.” He quickly locks eyes on the path ahead.

“Umm, I’m not sure. Why?”

“I found my dad’s old SLR, from his college days, when we were unpacking the Pittsburgh moving boxes. That thing is awesome, but I loaded the film wrong and messed up the advance lever. I’m afraid to take it apart to try and fix it myself. My dad will freakin’ kill me if he finds out it’s busted, so I’ve just been hiding it underneath some of his prints, hoping he doesn’t decide to take it out for a sentimental spin. Thank God Akron seems to have stifled all his creativity. Anyhow, the only camera place I knew of was Best Buy, and those guys have no idea how to deal with anything that’s not digital.”

“SLR?” I ask.

“Single lens reflex. Don’t you have one? It’s like every photographer’s first real camera. You can set your shutter speed, mess with the aperture, all that fun stuff. You haven’t really taken a picture until you use one of those.”

“Oh.”

Charlie’s hands strangle the handlebar grips. “I didn’t mean to sound like a know-it-all. I guess I’ve picked that habit up from my dad. He’s the kind of teacher whose lessons never really stop.” He clears his throat. “So, what kinds of pictures do you like to take?”

“I don’t know,” I say. I could be honest and admit that I’ve only really had a camera for four days, but I decide against it.

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