Free Something About Love: A YA contemporary romance in verse by Elana Johnson Page A

shoulder.
    “Yes,” he says.
    “If I get in trouble,
    I can’t play football.”
    I pause, considering.
    Playing football to Trevor
    Is like breathing.
    If he can’t do it,
    He’ll die.
    The porch of the dilapidated house
    Sags;
    The paint on the front door is
    Peeling;
    The brick is weathered and
    Crumbling.
    “This has character,” I say,
    Almost a whine in my voice.
    “It’s perfect.”
    Trevor comes to stand beside me.
    “So you’re saying I have
    Perfect character.”
    I roll my eyes,
    Knowing I’ve got him,
    At least for a few minutes.
    “I’m saying we better shoot this
    Before the cops come by.”

“JUST ONE MORE,”
    I tell Trevor.
    “You’ve said that at least ten times.”
    I’ve taken at least two hundred shots
    Of him, but
    I don’t have the right one yet.
    I got him sitting on the porch, and
    Leaning against that blue door, and
    Posing in front of the textured brick.
    I’ve used the flash, and
    Opened the aperture, and
    Adjusted his clothes.
    We’ve been here an hour, and
    He was done after the first thirty minutes.
    “I can’t use any of these,” I tell him, and
    He glances skyward as if
    God will grant him patience.
    “I’m sure that’s not true.”
    “Come on,” I say.
    “Just a couple more.”
    I step toward the front door,
    Wondering if it’s locked.
    “Whoa, we’re not going in there.”
    He moves to block me.
    “Yes, we are,” I say,
    Swatting his outstretched arm out of my way.
    I scan him from head to toe.
    “It’s the ideal juxtaposition.
    You, all put together and…whatever, and
    This house all falling apart.”
    “So you’re saying opposites attract.”
    I brush past him and test the door.
    It swings open, and
    I enter.
    “I’m saying persistence pays off.
    Now get in here.”
    “Persistence,” he mutters behind me.
    I smother the smile that rises to my face
    When I hear his footsteps.
    The living room is picked pretty bare, but
    There’s an old dining table in the kitchen.
    “There.” I direct him to the table and
    Have him sit down.
    “No…stand back up.
    Maybe just sit on it…
    Not all the way on it,
    Just one cheek…
    Yeah, like that.”
    He crosses his arms, and
    A strange glint has entered his eye.
    I lift the camera,
    Adjust the focal length, and
    Snap the picture.
    “Will you go out with me?” he asks as
    I step to the side to get a different angle.
    I almost drop my camera.
    “What? No.”
    My hands shake the slightest bit, but
    I manage to get off a few more shots.
    The pictures are the best I’ve taken, but
    It’s not because of the lighting, or
    The technique, or
    The lens.
    It’s because Trevor is finally in the moment.
    His mind is alive,
    Seething,
    Working through how he can get me to go out with him.
    I can see it through my one-hundred twenty millimeter lens, and
    I don’t like it.
    Not one little bit.

“CRAP.”
    Trevor isn’t the only one who hears the sirens.
    We hold each other’s eyes for a long moment, then
    We spring into action together, like
    We’ve rehearsed every getaway scenario
    Together.
    He helps me pack my lens and
    Flash equipment before
    Jumping in the driver’s seat.
    “Go,” I say as I fling myself in the passenger seat.
    He doesn’t need to be told twice.
    He flips the gearshift into drive, and
    Floors it.
    I turn toward the window and
    Smile, because
    It feels like Trevor and I just got away with something dangerous.
    Together.

“WE COULD JUST GO SEE A MOVIE,”
    He says after putting ten minutes of driving distance between
    Us and the abandoned house.
    “No funny business, I promise.
    Friends go to movies together, you know.”
    “Right,” I scoff. “On Saturday night.
    That’s not a date or anything.”
    I stare determinedly out my window,
    My smile gone,
    My arms folded.
    “Not a date,” he confirms.
    “You’d go with Jacey, right?”
    I tighten my jaw as
    I tighten my arms.
    “My mom will be mad.”
    “Like you care if she’s upset.”
    “I do,” I say,
    Suddenly very,
    Very