Free Candid (True Images Series) by Michelle Pennington Page A

would.”
    “What’s the worst she would do?”
    “For holding hands with someone? I don’t know. She’s never specifically said I can’t hold hands, but I think she would be mad. To her, any sign that I’m getting involved with a specific guy would be out. She’d probably give me a scary lecture, tell me to cut it out, and threaten me with dire consequences if I didn’t.”
    “That’s not too bad. What do you say we risk it? Look. I haven’t seen anyone else go in yet, so how about if we go in now before someone else gets here? I’ll take your hand as we go through the door so no one out here sees us, and I’ll hold it until I’m sure Mr. Greeley has seen. Then we’ll wait and see if your mom says something about it.”
    “That could work,” I said. Except that it might have other consequences. I was pretty sure that once we held hands, I would want to do it again. But it was a big a temptation and such a little infringement of my mom’s rule that I gave in. Holding hands was not dating.
     “Let’s go then,” Lee said. We moved towards the open doorway and Lee began to reach for my left hand. When he laced his fingers through mine, it was hard to keep my mind on anything but how great it felt. It was like every nerve ending in my body was focused on where our hands touched, and it felt natural and right. There was also a twinge of guilt shooting through me, though. I would never do this in front of my mom, because I knew she wouldn’t like it. What in the world was I going to do about this?
    Hand in hand, we walked past Mr. Greeley. He was sitting at his desk, talking on his cell phone, and at first I didn’t think that he’d noticed us come in. Then, his eyes seemed to zero in on our clasped hands and he caught my eye, his heavy eyebrows drawing together.
    I didn’t take it as a good sign, but it was hard to tell since he was still in the middle of his phone conversation. It sounded like he was talking with the rep from the company that published our yearbook. Deadlines were on the horizon and that always made Mr. Greeley anxious.
    I stopped and tossed the crumpled up poster towards the trashcan. I missed and had to let go of Lee’s hand to pick it up. When I turned back around, I saw that he was grinning like it was hilarious that I’d missed such an easy shot.
    We walked over to a large work table in the middle of the room. A few projects had been left out on it from the previous hour’s students, but he pushed them aside. He pulled two of the wheeled, plastic chairs over and we sat down. Grabbing a piece of scrap paper and a pencil from the table, he wrote, He definitely noticed .
    I nodded my head and took the pencil from him. What do you think he thought of it?
    Trading the pencil back and forth, we continued our written conversation as other members of the staff began to filter in.
    Not sure, but he didn’t look happy.
    He had nice handwriting - kind of careless, but still neat. My own writing looked loopy and feminine next to his. I wrote, Think he’ll tell her?
    Even if he does, it was worth it, he answered .
    I knew my cheeks were a little pink as I wrote, Sure, but you won’t be getting the lecture.
    Good point. Good luck with that . I gasped indignantly and Lee grinned shamelessly. He wadded up the paper and tossed it across the room into the trashcan with perfect accuracy.
    “Good shot.”
    “Thanks. It’s kind of my thing.”
    “Oh, right. Obviously, it isn’t mine - at least not anymore.”
    “You used to play?”
    “Yeah, but it takes up a lot of time with practices and games. Basketball season was always crazy busy, and I didn’t have much time for photography, so I gave it up.”
    “You can’t need that much time for your photography.”
    “I need more than you think. How’s basketball going for you anyway? Are you going to have a good team?”
    Lee shrugged and rolled backwards in his chair a little as he turned to face me. “I think so, but it’s hard to tell.