Pinhole, Higher Learning
Copyright© 2024 by Fanlon
Chapter 1
Mom and Dad couldn’t stop smiling as we piled into the car to leave the Sheldon Art Museum Friday night. There was an excitement in the air that was nearly a physical presence. I was still a bit taken aback that I hadn’t gotten in trouble over my submission pictures. Most parents would have been livid, to say the least, if their son—who was in high school—had taken nude pictures of girls the way I had. Not only did I take their pictures, but I had developed them and shown them off to the public!
They weren’t mad at all, and when the letter came from Professor Peterson ... well, my parents fully supported my art, so much so that Dad even joked we would have to talk seriously about building a darkroom at home. It wasn’t a joke to me. Whether he meant it that way or not, he opened a can of worms he couldn’t reseal. I would need one after all, a darkroom, since I was no longer allowed to work on non-school projects in the high school dark room.
I pestered my parents the whole weekend after the exhibit about building a dark room in the basement. Any chance I could, I would say something about when we could start, what all we might need and most importantly, that I would help with everything to make it easier on them.
“We’ll talk about it,” was the only answer Dad gave me on the subject.
The way he said it, it wasn’t like the old ‘we’ll see’ excuse parents gave their kids that really meant, ‘yeah right, in your dreams!’
Mom was more on my side, even if she didn’t come right out and say it. She gave me a warm smile that made me think she was going to work on him for me but wasn’t going to say a word now one way or the other.
We had the room downstairs. I had even borrowed Dad’s tape measure to check. The family room, which we never used, was long and slightly narrow. The far wall was almost thirty feet long, but it was only fourteen feet wide. It was a big room now, but I could easily see a wall being built so that it closed off some of it for a dark room and the rest I could use as a studio.
I wasn’t sure if people ... and by people, I mean girls, would want to come to my house to have their pictures taken. At the same time, I didn’t think they would want me to take nudes of them at all before, so who knows what could potentially happen.
“Better to be safe than sorry...” Dana had explained.
She told me the basement was perfect. I wished I had Laura’s opinion, but she wasn’t allowed to see me, not after the whole debacle at the gallery with her mother.
Dana had come over on Saturday shortly after lunch and we started planning the whole thing together. I was just excited to have her there if I was honest. I wasn’t sure what her role would be now that I wouldn’t be taking photography in our high school. She made it clear though that we might need to secure models for my college projects, assuming I did indeed take classes at UNL.
“No one is going to pose for me, at least not from school,” I said, giving Dana a flat, knowing look.
After the whole ordeal with the sluts, no one was willing to pose for me. I wouldn’t have had the three submissions I needed for the exhibit if it weren’t for Laura agreeing to pose for me. That was a shock on a whole different level. Going from ‘don’t ever take my picture’ to ‘please take my picture naked’ was a mental whiplash of the highest degree. Still, I was thankful for Laura, and she was proud that she had done it, even if her mother had lost her ever-loving-mind over the whole thing.
“You have no idea,” Dana smirked and even winked at me. “Trust me.”
I didn’t even flinch. In fact, I crossed my arms in front of my chest to emphasize that I didn’t believe her.
“When have I ever let you down or gotten you in trouble?” Dana asked, as if that question would be the pointed dagger in her argument.
“Let’s see, Stephanie...”
“That one doesn’t count!’ Dana hurriedly snapped to cut me off before I could recite the one evening that shifted everything down the wrong path and dried up the models for the rest of the semester ... almost. “Just ... you know, trust me. Please?”
My posture softened when Dana gave me her sad puppy dog look.
“Fine...”
“You’re not going to regret it, promise,” Dana rushed over to me and wrapped me into a tight hug and lifted me off the ground to boot in her excitement.
I couldn’t help but flush when she put me down. Not only was she bigger than me and strong enough to pick me up, but she had also just smashed me against her chest ... her exceptionally soft, warm, wonderful chest.
“Don’t you ever wear a bra?” I asked confidently, looking right at the two points jutting out from the front of her shirt.
It was obvious she wasn’t wearing one. Dana did wear bras though. I had seen them firsthand on several occasions, but I couldn’t resist the chance to pick on her a bit.
“Are you complaining?” Dana responded, hands on hips, and I swear she jutted out her chest a bit more just to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt she wasn’t wearing a bra.
In the end, we both agreed that the whole basement was a bit much. I didn’t even need to take up half of the basement, which would be ridiculous. Not to say I wouldn’t have wanted that much room if it were offered to me. The only other areas were the utility room area that we used as a laundry room and a guest bathroom, which was only used occasionally. Using the main room would have been easier. The walls were covered in a fake wood paneling that all basements in split foyer houses like ours seemed to be made of. That stuff was easy to yank off and would expose the studs behind them with little effort.
“You have the measurements down here, right?” Dana asked.
“Yeah ... why?”
“Let’s go upstairs and I’ll put together a plan for us.”
I looked at her for a long moment before finally nodding my agreement. The two of us headed upstairs, Dana leading the way as if this were her house and not mine. When she got to the top of the stairs, she looked to the left. My room was in that direction, and it was obvious that’s where she had intended to go.
“Your room?” I was surprised she even asked, and I was secretly thankful she did.
“Yeah right!” I smirked and flicked my eyes to the right. I knew Mom was going to be there sitting on the couch watching us and she indeed was.
“Why don’t you two use the dining room table for your project,” Mom said, making it clear she wasn’t cool with Dana going to my room but trying to offer an alternative. “I’ll get you some snacks. Chips and salsa okay?”
“Sure, Mrs. Davis,” Dana answered, grinning proudly as if she hadn’t just been busted trying to go to my room.
“Thanks, Mom,” I said and shrugged as I followed Dana.
Dana was a flurry of scribbles the moment she sat in my usual seat at the table. How she managed to pick that particular spot, I have no idea. I pulled out the head chair and sat down.
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