The other day we were folding laundry and talking about photography and when we first became interested in it and things like that, and I remembered my first digital camera, a birthday present from my dad. The camera had a tiny removable disk that would hold thirty-two pictures. So I went around the house and then around the neighborhood taking pictures. I kind of wended my way towards Jamie’s house. I had this huge crush on her, but we weren’t going out or anything like that. I thought I’d show her my new camera, and maybe I’d even take a picture of her. I knocked on the door, and her mom said she was down in the basement doing something, maybe working on her butterfly collection. It was strange because we’d been friends since kindergarten and I didn’t even know she had a butterfly collection. Her mom said I could go down and see what she was up to.

So I went down the basement steps. The basement wasn’t really finished. There was a kind of workshop for Jamie’s dad and a washer and dryer, a furnace and hot water heater, but I didn’t see Jamie or any evidence of a butterfly collection. There were two other doors and I tried one. Inside it was this little storage place, sort of like a closet but bigger, and it was pretty dark except for some sunlight coming through a little window. A giant, grinning teddy bear was sitting in the corner next to a lot of old suitcases stacked up with a broken doll on top.

The light shining through the little window was blasting the broken doll or maybe she was seeking its warmth. Like it was healing or something—I don’t know. Anyway, I took a picture, I have no idea why. Maybe because something about the suitcases made me think they were smiling. So happy to see me. Like sure! And I thought about opening the suitcases to see what was inside, but I knew that would be wrong, so I didn’t.

Then I was about to come out of the storage closet, but looking out the doorway I noticed that over near the washer and dryer was Jamie, standing there, dripping wet, with a hair dryer in her hand. The other door must have been to a shower. She was looking toward the stairway, which was in the opposite direction of me more or less, and I realized she had no idea I was there. I was sort of hidden in the dark part of the storage area. I don’t know why, but I didn’t come out. Okay, probably I didn’t come out because she was naked. So I just stood there. And I just watched.

I noticed that there was a pink towel folded on top of the washing machine, and there was a laundry basket on the basement floor that was also pink, and that the hair dryer was pink. Mostly I noticed that Jamie’s skin was pink, dripping wet but slightly flushed from her shower. And her nipples were especially pink. I especially looked at her nipples. I should take a picture of this, I thought, but I was afraid maybe Jamie would notice the camera’s shutter click. So I stood there not taking the picture. Then Jamie switched on the dryer, and it made this humming noise. Pretty loud. That should be enough to conceal the noise of the camera, I thought, so I took the picture, even though part of me felt guilty for doing it.