The Walls Caved In

I felt my mouth drop slightly as Eric rode up the driveway to my house. On his bike.

"I thought you said you were gonna pick me up," I said, coming towards him, arms crossed.

"About that," he said, smiling sheepishly. He busied himself by propping the kickstand up. "I told you that when I thought my car would be back. I couldn't get it to the shop, and I didn't want to make you drive." He looked me straight in the eyes, his face turning pink.

"I hope you don't mind. It'll be fun, Joy! You don't need to worry, the windswept look will really work out for you." He punctuated this with a wink, trying to smile again.

I stared at him. On normal circumstances, there was no way in hell that I would ride on the back of his bike. Especially considering where we were going. Senior year was coming up, which meant preparations, which meant pictures. Both of my parents were busy, so they couldn't accompany me, and Alli was off being Alli. I didn't want to go alone, and when I had brought it up to Eric he had been more than willing to tag along.

So, like I said. No way in hell I would get on that bike. We were on Earth, though, where Eric was blushing and smiling and waiting for me. I nodded my head, and he let out a huge breath. C'mon, he said.

My biggest concern was mounted and overthrown then, as he asked me if I needed help climbing onto the handlebars.

Tossing my hairbrush back into my small bag, I fidgeted in front of the mirror long enough before deeming myself presentable. I mean, it would be just like any other school picture I've taken. Only this picture is my last.

I exited the bathroom, taking my seat beside Eric in the lobby. He greeted me with a smile, like always, until we fell into silence again. The room was fairly empty, apart from one woman dressed in a red sweater, hauling three little blond kids, two boys and a girl. The children, also, were decked out in Christmas outfits, apparently getting their card together early. None of them looked too happy, preferably the boys, who were attempting to tear the turtlenecks off of themselves, much to their mother's objections.

I looked to Eric, who was waving as the little girl turned towards us and away from her squabbling brothers. She smiled, too, boldly walking towards both of us.

"Hi, I'm Isabelle," she said. She stood in between us, balancing herself by placing a hand on both of our knees.

"I'm Eric, and this is my girlfriend, Joy," I smiled at her, but more to myself when Eric told her my name. I liked the sound of that, my girlfriend, Joy, even if I was only being introduced to a 6-year-old.

"Are you getting pictures taken, too?" she asked. She was such a sweet little girl, I thought.

"Yep," I said. "I've got to get them taken for school."

"I had to do that last year! It was my first year, and they made me stand at the end of the line because I'm so short! Where's the rest of your class?"

"Its a different kind of picture," Eric told her, and she nodded her head repeatedly.

"Joyce Bailey?" A woman called from behind a half open door. I nodded my head at the woman, and she opened the door wider, waiting for me.

"Her name is Joy!" Isabelle yelled. The sweet girl shocked me, and I stumbled footing as I looked down to see that she was the one who made the noise.

"Isabelle!" Her mother's voice scolded her, as if she had just pulled herself away from her talk with the receptionist to realize her daughter was talking to two teenagers.

"Bye!" Isabelle sang, waving to us. We waved back, before following the woman behind the door into the studio.

I followed the woman around the corner, until she stopped to introduce me to the photographer. He lightly pushed me towards the set I had chosen previously, where I sat myself down on a stool and propped myself up on a very slight and clear desk. With few instructions, I was able to smile and the photographer snapped his camera. We changed sets two more times, where I fumbled over his directions until I somehow got my pose just right. Finally, we were done.

"That was the worst. I'm glad your only a senior once," I said, leaving my information at the desk.

"Not until you get really old," Eric pointed out, holding my hand as we walked around the building to where his bike was chained to a pole.

"Yea, but by then you're so old no one wants to take pictures with you."