A Moment to Capture

Before I know it, the next week ends with no sign of Mysterion for either me or Jeanine. But since the day of the cemetery, Jeanine and I have been roaming the city in case we actually do "bump into him." We lurked around areas where we thought small crimes could happen, but nothing ever did. And of course we don't find him. Now we only have one week left and I still haven't come up with a backup plan.

I'm with Jeanine and the others in the parking lot. It's a Friday and school just ended. I can tell the guys are still a little uncomfortable whenever I bring her around to hang out with us sometimes.

"I just don't understand," Jeanine tells me. "I thought Mysterion was back. One week, and he already disappears. Again."

"He's probably just really good at hiding," I say.

"Maybe you guys should give it a break," Wendy suggests. "I know you've been trying but.. isn't there a saying that goes you never find what you want when you're looking for it?"

"So says the girl who only gave us two weeks to find him," I comment. Wendy shoots me a bitter look.

Jeanine sighs. "It's okay. It makes sense to drop the story altogether if we can't find him soon. What's the point in writing about Mysterion's comeback if he isn't back for good?"

There is an awkward silence among us. I can tell Jeanine is really disappointed about Mysterion, and the weight of her feelings affects us all in some way or another, whether we want it to or not. Cartman is obviously annoyed, Stan doesn't wanna deal with it so he remains indifferent, Kyle and I are the only ones that are feeling the least bit guilty, though I more than him.

"Anyone down for milkshakes?" I ask, trying to lighten the mood.



We all drive to a local diner for dessert. Each of us orders a milkshake, and we sit around and talk until we get bored. Jeanine has stopped talking about Mysterion and everyone makes conversation about random things, like what girls think guys do at sleepovers. Jeanine remains a little timid around us though, only butting into conversation when she has something smart to say. Otherwise she just sips on her mint chocolate chip milkshake and listens.

"Guys do NOT talk about girls at sleepovers. It's a waste of our time," Cartman argues with Wendy. That was a lie. Guys talk about girls sometimes.

"Yes they do! Well at least STRAIGHT guys do," she replies.

"Call me a homo one more time, bitch, and I'll gag you with my own hands."

"I never said you were a homo."

"Just shut the fuck up."

"You shut up!"

"Suck my balls."

As Wendy and Cartman's debate kills our conversation, the rest of us just sit there and wait for the storm to pass. To me and the guys, this is normal. But to Jeanine, it's awkward.

"When we were kids, didn't we already establish what guys and girls do at sleepovers?" I ask aside to Stan and Kyle, rolling my eyes. I sigh. "Anyway. Jeanine, don't you have to be home soon?"

It's almost 10PM and I don't want her parents getting mad at me or something. Besides, she seems like she'd rather be somewhere else right now.

"Um… yeah I guess so," she says.

"All right. Let's go, I'll take you home," I say. "Later, guys."

"Later."

Jeanine and I leave the booth. When we exit the diner, she says, "You didn't have to do that you know."

"Do what?"

"Get me out of there because I don't seem to fit in."

I smirk. "Maybe it's us who don't fit in with you."



I stop my dad's old pickup truck in front of Jeanine's house. The lights in her house are all off.

"Thanks again, Kenny," she says. But she doesn't get out of the truck. I'm about to ask her what's up when instead she asks me, "Do you wanna come inside for a bit? No one's home."

So Jeanine lied about having to be home on time. And it was a question I wasn't expecting. When girls used to ask me that, it only meant one thing. But I knew Jeanine wasn't like that, so it catches me a little off guard.

She reads the slightly incredulous look on my face and a subtle blush surfaces her cheeks. "I mean, not like that. Well, it's just, my parents freak out whenever I bring a new friend over, and now they're gone so maybe it'll be better…"

I smile. It is the first time she referred to me as a friend. "I'll go for a little."

"Okay. I'm not trying to rape you or anything if that's what you're worried about," she jokes.

"Ha-ha."

I park my truck and Jeanine leads me into her house. She gives me a brief tour of the first floor, pointing out different family photos and avoiding some others. When we climb up the stairs to her room I ask her, "Why do your parents freak out when you bring someone over?"

"…Because it doesn't happen often."

Jeanine opens the door to her room and when she turns on the lights, the first thing I see are the lavender walls with, of course, photographs aligned neatly along them. Her room is neat and organized, with white furniture and stuffed animals on her bed. Painted butterflies are also scattered on her ceiling, a girly feature that doesn't quite match up to the Jeanine I know now. At least by appearance, anyway.

"I've been wanting to redo my room for ages. It's been like this since I was like five," she says.

"No need to be embarrassed," I say. Something in the corner then catches my eye. A white dresser, and resting upon its top surface are cameras. Different kinds that I didn't even know existed. Lots of kinds. They are displayed like trophies. "Damn, girl, how many cameras do you have?"

"I like to collect them."

"I can see that. Is that a Polaroid camera?" I ask, pointing at the one I actually recognized.

"Yeah," she says, picking up the black square-shaped device. "Say cheese!"

Without warning, Jeanine quickly snaps a shot of me, the bright flash blinding my eyes. Instantly, a square-shaped piece of film slips out of the slot. Jeanine pulls it out. I look over her shoulder and we wait for the picture to develop. Jeanine waves the picture in the air and in between, we watch the black square turn a shade of gray, and then colors start to appear. When the picture is finally clear, I say, "Definitely not a good shot of me. You should burn it."

My blonde hair's a mess, my eyes are squinted and the bright flash made my skin appear pale, so I almost look Chinese. "Well, it's only my first picture of you. It won't be the last."

I follow her as she places my picture on her bedside table on top of a stack of other Polaroids. Above the bedside table taped to the wall, surprisingly, is a picture of Mysterion. I want to correct Jeanine and say the picture she just took is actually the second one of me, but I don't.

"Hey, you have a picture of Mysterion!" I exclaim. It is from the day of the robbery, when she was chasing me. The second I risked to look back and glance at her as we were running down the sidewalk, she snapped a picture of me. I hadn't even realized it. "Why don't you use this for your article?"

She laughs a little. "It's a good picture, but he looks a little scared and confused, don't you think? I don't want that in the newspaper, it'd be an embarrassment to both me and him. So I just keep it for fun."

I look back at the picture. I guess there is a little fear in my eyes. The mask wasn't enough to hide it. It would be embarrassing for Mysterion if that picture made the paper. The corner of my lips curl into a half grin.

My eyes scan the pictures that surround the one of me as Mysterion. I get kind of lost in them, actually. Some are at weird, close-up angles where I don't even know what the object of the photo is. Some are familiar mountainous landscapes of Colorado or objects in the sun that cast interesting shadows. Some are candid shots of different people. So many shades of black and white and all the colors. So many people, places, and things caught in a moment as one photograph, and they are all beautiful. I never really saw photography as an art until now.

"Photography's your life, isn't it?" I ask.

"Pretty much. Well, journalism in general. But more photography I guess."

"You're good at it. Like, really."

"…Thanks."

After moments more of small talk and getting to know Jeanine a little more, I leave her house later that evening with a new vision of her. I learned that, despite what others have thought about her, she isn't the Mysterion-obsessed girl I initially thought she was. She's like a photograph. At first sight, she may seem insanely goal driven and obsessed.. and like a photograph, you want to look away because that's all you really need to know about it. But when you spend time with it little more, really looking at it and studying it, you realize that there's more than meets the eye. When you look beyond the surface, there is a deeper meaning that's worth a thousand words. And to sum it all up, Jeanine has a lot to offer with her passion. And witnessing someone be so passionate about something as simple as a photograph is a refreshing sight to see.