Pinhole
Copyright© 2022 by Fanlon
Chapter 15
I heard Dana honk when she arrived; Mom hadn’t come out of her bedroom yet.
“Bye Mom!” I yelled as I quickly gathered my things and slung my backpack over my shoulders. “I’ll be home after school.’
“Have a good day,” I heard her call out just as I shut the door behind me and hurried out to Dana’s car.
Her gold Beretta was parked, but still running in our driveway. I opened the passenger door and climbed in, kicking four empty cans of Coke off to the side as I pulled the seatbelt around me and clicked it into place. I hadn’t even noticed Dana until she yawned loudly.
“Alright, let’s go,” she said and put the car in reverse.
She was obviously still tired. Her hair was a mess, and she was wearing a thick, white cotton robe. She had on a threadbare green t-shirt and a pair of pink soft looking sweatpants with little white stars printed all over it.
“Are you wearing—”
“Don’t!” Dana cut me off before I could ask about her attire. “Not another word, Josh. It’s too damn early.”
“Sorry.”
Neither one of us said another word and to my surprise, Dana wasn’t flying down the street as she did every other time I rode with her. When we finally came to a stop in Dana’s assigned parking spot, we were the only car there. I was about to get out of the car when Dana stopped me.
“I can’t go in there in my robe!” Dana hissed and I sat back into my seat, releasing the door hand from my grip.
Dana didn’t wait for me to respond, instead she stripped off her robe, followed quickly by her shirt. She wasn’t shy at all with me in the car. Sure, I had taken a fairly sexy picture of her in a football jersey and panties, but this was different. I couldn’t help watching. Her boobs were bare, she wasn’t wearing a bra but that didn’t surprise me. She rarely did, or so I had figured out.
Dana turned and reached for a pile of clothes in the back seat. Her chest was inches from my arm. Her nipples weren’t hard, and they were pale enough that they almost matched the flesh of breasts. Seeing this close up, I had the obvious reaction any young guy would. I desperately wanted to rearrange, but I was hoping she wouldn’t notice. Dana pulled a t-shirt over her head and then pulled off her pink sweatpants. She wasn’t wearing any underwear—she didn’t shave like Jo. Instead, there was a neatly trimmed triangle of pubic hair that matched the hair on her head, if only a few shades darker.
“Enjoying the view?” Dana asked with a smirk as she lifted her ass off of her seat and pulled up a pair of tight jeans.
“Umm...” I didn’t know what to say and my brain didn’t tell me to look away.
Her jeans looked so tight around her thighs that she had to wiggle into them. From where I was sitting, it didn’t look like she was going to be able to get them past the delicious curve of her ass cheeks that I could see clearly. As quickly as the display started, it was over.
“Come on, show’s over,” Dana laughed and got out of the car.
It took me a second or two to realize she was no longer in the car, and I scurried to get out myself. Dana stood there waiting for me by the back of her car with her arms crossed and a grin on her face.
“You might want to get that ... under control.” Dana pointed a finger at the tent in the front of my pants.
She didn’t wait for me to say anything and just started walking towards the school. I finally adjusted myself now that her back was to me, trying to give me some more room and followed. We found Mr. Watts sitting at his desk going through a pile of pictures.
“I see you took me up on my offer to come in early,” Mr. Watts said and waved us over to his desk. “I have something for you, Josh.”
He handed me a book. I recognized the name on the cover right away. I had tried to do some research on him after the first day of class. Ansel Adams, The Print.
“That book right there is going to give you all the answers you need when it comes to making black and white prints of your portraits. Who better to learn a bit from than one of the best black and white photographers ever.”
I looked at the book and was stunned. It was book three of a series all about photography.
“Thank you, Mr. Watts!” I exclaimed.
“Isn’t that the guy who took those famous pictures in Yosemite National Park?””
“It is!” Mr. Watts perked up. “You remember that from when you took my class?”
“You wouldn’t shut up about him,” Dana replied, rolling her eyes, and sighing and Mr. Watts chuckled.
“I expect that back in the same condition it’s in now,” he quickly told me when he looked over at me.
“Does that mean we aren’t going to be making copies of Jo’s picture this morning?” Dana asked and she didn’t look at all pleased at the prospect.
“Exactly right. Josh there, is going to do some reading first, then come back and we can get started.” Mr. Watts Grinned.
“I woke up an hour early for this!” Dana huffed, there was no mistaking her anger.
“Settle down, Dana. You know photography isn’t something to take lightly. Do you want your friends’ pictures to be ruined?”
“No, but—”
“Then you will just have to be patient.”
“Fine,” Dana growled, got up and left the room.
“Give that a read, but I want it back as soon as you’re done,” Mr. Watts told me as I got up from my seat.
I went to my morning classes, but I didn’t pay attention to a word my teachers told me. I was fixated on The Print. Even though I was reading a book given to me by one of my teachers, Mr. Watts, my other teachers weren’t exactly happy I wasn’t paying attention to their class.
“Josh, eyes front.” “Put that away before I take it away.” Those were the two most popular demands I received this morning. Each time I heard them they startled me, and I must have looked like a deer in headlights. I did put it back in my bag when I was threatened with detention or a visit to the principal’s office though. Even when it was safely stowed under my desk, my teachers’ attention seemed to focus solely on me after that.
Dana was nowhere to be seen at lunch. I was worried that maybe she was having second thoughts about our partnership. When class started, Mr. Watts was talking about landscape photography and to no one’s surprise, brought up Ansel Adams as he did. He gave me a smile when he saw the book he had given me in the morning on my desk. I wasn’t reading it; it was the only class I didn’t read it while the teacher was talking, but he seemed pleased that I had it out.
Adam kept pestering me about the pictures I was taking of the girls. He wanted to see them and kept asking me over and over again when I was going to show them to him. I had to keep explaining that they weren’t mine to show off, but he didn’t seem to understand that.
“Come on, man. Just let me see them,” Adam whined.
“Dude, no. Maybe,” I gave him a serious look and made sure he was listening before I finished my statement. “Maybe if they give you permission, I will let you look at them. But only the girls who give you permission.”
“That’s easy—”
“They have to tell me it’s okay. You can’t just tell me they said it was cool and expect me to immediately pull them out and show you.”
“Who are you taking pictures of, so I know who to ask?”
I just grinned at him and didn’t answer the question.
“Don’t be an asshole,” Adam hissed.
“Then don’t be a perv,” I responded and Adam’s face scrunched up in fury.
“I thought we were friends...” That was the last thing Adam said to me the rest of the day.
The rest of the day I tried to focus on the classes I was in instead of the book, but it wasn’t easy. When the final bell rang out, I left my classroom and headed to my locker to load up my backpack with my homework.
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