twenty-one: picture perfect

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"Get ready for your photoshoot, bitches!" Brendon calls out as we walk up to the park.

It's Thursday after school, and the four of us decided to go to the park and take pictures with a fancy camera that Brendon stole from his parents.

We stand in the middle of a field and Brendon shuffles through his bag to pull out the camera. While he fiddles with the buttons and settings, he rambles about its features, talking about the special lenses and zoom.

I ignore his talking and turn to Pete. "Do you think this'll be fun?" I ask him in a soft tone.

He nods and smiles. "I really think so. Brendon will probably get the photos printed out on special paper, and I'll keep a little picture of you in my wallet."

I beam up at him. He's such a gentleman. Of course he'll keep a picture of me in his wallet.

Brendon motions for us all to come forward. Ryan stands closest to Brendon, with Pete and I to the left. Brendon switches the camera around and snaps a selfie of us.

We all gather around the screen of the device to see the outcome.

"That's a really nice photo," Ryan says upon seeing it.

The photo shows just the four of us, standing in a field, smiling at the camera. We look surprisingly normal, like just a few kids messing around with their parent's expensive lenses. With our carefree smiles, it seems as if our biggest worries in the world are whether or not we'll win a football game, or if we'll ace a history test or not. We look like a picture-perfect group of guys.

I long for that to be the reality. A picture can speak a thousand words, but maybe they're just not entirely accurate.

Suddenly the camera is being shoved into my hands. "Get some pictures of me and Ryan!" Brendon says, backing up and positioning him and the other boy in front of me.

"Um, okay." I hold the device up to my face, aiming it at the boys. I can't find where the button is to snap a photo.

"Here," a voice behind me says. Pete puts his hands over mine and positions my fingers on the right buttons, and takes the first picture for me. I smile at the flash of warmth that his hands send through me.

For the next ten minutes, Brendon and Ryan pose together as I snap photos of them. Somehow Brendon ends up in Ryan's arms, bride style. I laugh and take a picture. Click. Brendon pecks Ryan's cheek. Click. Ryan's face turns a deep red, making us all laugh. Click.

For a moment, it seems like everything is going to be okay. It seems like Pete isn't moving away and it seems like I don't have an abusive stepfather and it seems like we're happy.

But really, we aren't. I'm just clinging onto this moment because I'm going to want to relive it for my entire life.

"Alright, now you two." Brendon takes the camera from my grip and stands in front of me and Pete.

Suddenly feeling exposed, I look down. "What do we do?" I ask quietly. I've never had photos taken of me.

"Just act natural, pose, be cute," Brendon tells me.

Pete holds me in his grip and smiles at the camera. I look up at his face. He doesn't smile very often, and when he does it's a blessing. I wish I could lose myself his features all day. The way the corners of his eyes crinkle up when he flashes a grin almost makes me giddy.

This is why I'm gay.

"Next!" Brendon shouts out, yanking me from my reverie.

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