All Of Me

Chapter 16

Tripp's POV

Thursday morning, I woke up excited to possibly have a job.

Photography was a passion of mine. After my father died when I was nine, my grandparents bought me a camera. I spent most of my time quiet, by myself, and taking pictures. When I got in high school, I didn't broadcast the hobby as much, but I still love it.

When I heard the local paper was hiring, I thought it'd be the perfect opportunity to get paid to do something I love.

I printed off some of my best pictures to show them, and headed on my way.

My Nikon D-70s DSLR sat in the passenger seat along with pictures of nature, my dog, old buildings and statues, and of course, Brooke. These were some of my favorite pictures of her.

Brooke was always so simple. Just jeans and a t-shirt pretty much every where she went; and if you saw her in a pretty dress, she was feeling confident.

However this picture of her, I took when she had just turned 17. Brooke and Josh are the only two people that know how much I love photography.

It was right after her birthday, and I bought her a new dress. It was a little too short, sleeveless, and bright red. I knew it was out of her comfort zone, but I knew she'd look stunning.

I took her to the park to take some pictures of her in it, just to make her feel pretty, and it was like pulling teeth to get her to agree to even put it on. I told her to put it on or I would put it on her myself. She quickly went and changed.

She walked awkwardly out of the public restroom and I felt like I needed to sit down when I saw her walking toward me. Her hair was barely to her shoulders back then, and her face was a little more round. It's amazing how much she changed in just two years.

I smiled at her, and put on my cool dude facade as usual, and told her she looked stunning. She looked down at her feet and tucked some hair behind her ear like she always does when she's nervous, and shook her head.

I told her to sit on the stone bench in front of the tall bushes covered in red and pink flowers. She did and pulled uncomfortably at the bottom of her dress. I crouched down a little and smiled at her over the camera, "You won't be able to see up your dress. Leave it." And her cheeks turned a deep shade of red, which perfected the shot.

I looked back from the road and over at the picture again. Her beautiful blond hair laid over her shoulders the way she tilted her head back and looked square in the camera. Her face relaxed, one hand on her cheek with her pinkie in her mouth. She looked like a model.

I shook my head and tried to re-focus my attention on getting this job. It felt so weird to be in a suit. I hadn't worn one since last Easter, and I kept tugging at my collar.

I basically lived in jeans and shorts and tank tops or t-shirts, so this mess was just plain uncomfortable.

The building was in Hollyton, about thirty minutes from Gracetown and right in the middle of the city.

I arrived right on time despite the thick traffic which I suppose is normal for big cities, grabbed my camera and pictures and headed straight in to the receptionist where I asked for Ms. Robinson's office.

I sat outside her office until she finally called me back. She was probably forty, had long, wavy red hair to her elbows, and a figure that was years younger than her age. However, the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth revealed her true age.

She greeted me with a wide smile and told me to have a seat in the chair across from her desk.

"You must be Mr. Sparks." She reached across and I shook her hand. "Yes ma'am."

We talk for a few minutes, she asked asks me a ton of questions before asking to see my photography. I hand her my folder of pictures and she flips through with a pleased look on her face.

She pauses on the picture of Brooke and smiles. "This must be your girlfriend." She holds up the picture for me to see.

I gulp and shake my head. "No ma'am. She's my best friend." Just once I'd like to know what it'd feel like to say, 'yes, she is. Isn't she beautiful?'.

She doesn't respond, she just places the picture back into the folder and finally closes it, handing it back to me.

"I think you're the perfect man for the job. You do beautiful work." She rests her elbows on her large oak desk and smiles.

I stand and thank her several times, and we shake hands again.

She lets me know that I'll be working for the writers, and they would collaborate with me to tell me what they need photographed for their stories.

I would only have to come to the office if I was needed to, because most of my work could be emailed to the writers.

I'd get paid well for every picture I submit. Plus get my name would get recognized in every paper right under the picture I took. It's a good job while I go through college.

I open my phone to call my mom, and see a text from Brooke. "Mom called. Having dinner tonight." and one of those little green guy emojis that looks like he's begging for help.

I have to tell her about the cocaine I found. She'll be mad that I kept it from her if I don't.