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Taryn got a faraway look in her eye, transported. “I picked up a camera at a resale shop earlier in the semester and have taken quite a few shots around campus.” She gave her head a shake. “The realization that I’d captured something that hadn’t been there moments before really struck me. It was almost like I was meant to read your words. I mean, you illustrated the feeling I had perfectly.”

With her gaze locked with Taryn’s, the world went still again. She’d never get used to it. She wanted to touch Taryn’s cheek, her hair, take her hand. She didn’t dare. First of all, this was Taryn, the kid from back home. Emphasis on kid. Second, Taryn was a girl. Third, Charlie had a boyfriend. None of the urges that seemed to be swirling could be given any kind of credence. “I’m so glad.” She focused on the conversation, keeping herself in the midst of the topic at hand. No more thoughts of Taryn. “There’s a true beauty in the creation of art, isn’t there? I’m honored I was able to exemplify the feeling for you.”

“Me, too. And I’d love to read more if you’re willing to share.”

“I just might be if you show me some of your shots in return.”

“Okay, but I’m aspiring at best.” Taryn blinked, and Charlie caught sight of her long, dark lashes that had no right to be so beautiful. Actually, Taryn herself was. Charlie noticed more and more with each moment they spent together. It made her nervous and vulnerable in a strange sense, and dammit, she was doing it again. But it seemed like Taryn saw every part of her, straight to her soul. Jarring and hard to ignore.

Charlie shifted, off center with butterflies crisscrossing her stomach. Her skin felt sensitive to the touch, and her mind wouldn’t obey even the simplest rules. None of this was like her. “I like to support aspiring artists.”

“You’d have to go easy on me. I don’t know if I’m good or not. But at least my professor seems to think I have an eye. I’m holding on to that compliment, if you couldn’t tell.”

“I have a feeling your professor is right. When can I see them?”

“Um, are we doing next week?” Taryn asked, keeping to their schedule.

“I don’t want to wait until next week.” In this moment, she couldn’t imagine doing so. The time they were spending together felt like water in a desert.

The sentiment seemed to catch Taryn off guard. She sank into a smile. “Okay. Sooner than that, then.”

“I have work at the library tomorrow, but what about the day after? I’m free after four.”

“Damn. I have my hours in the photo lab. The darkroom is hard to reserve.”

“Then don’t lose your slot. I get off at ten tomorrow. You could come over to my place. I usually make a late dinner. Something quick and easy like pasta and chicken marsala.”

Taryn nodded, stone-faced. “Yeah, I know when I think quick and dirty dinner, a chicken marsala is always at the top of my list. So basic.”

She winced. “I heard it once I said it.”

Taryn laughed. “Do you pop in a soufflé for dessert? Beef bourguignon must be saved for the weekend.”

Now Charlie was laughing as well, which, after their earlier conversation, helped lighten her mood immensely. “I promise I’m not a culinary elitist, but I have a very savory palate, and anything with wine in the sauce is a warm embrace, okay?”

“I’m that way with cheese, which is why the famous chefs from Kraft always make my macaroni with the utmost care and packaging,” Taryn said quite seriously. “I prepare it on medium in the most delightful cooking mechanism called a microwave. I pronounce it mee-cro-wav. I’m not sure if you’re familiar.”

Charlie tapped her chin with one finger. “Vaguely rings a bell. So, are you coming over or not, weirdo?” Why was Charlie practically holding her breath?

Taryn relaxed back into herself. “For chicken marsala in the middle of the night? Not sure how I could pass up such an opportunity.”

Charlie exhaled. “You really can’t.”

“And I wouldn’t want to.”

“Done.” Charlie lifted her bag. “So let’s get out of here and get you back to your homework.”

“You still think I’m a child.”

Charlie grabbed Taryn by the back of the neck and gave her gentle shake. “Trust me when I say that I don’t.”

Chapter Six

Her parents were thankfully doing okay.

That was the headline Taryn took away from every FaceTime call she had with the two of them, multiple times a week. It gave her peace of mind to see them bustling around the house, bickering about dinner plans, and acting like every decision of hers belonged to the group for discussion.

“Are you getting enough nutrients, though?” her mother asked for the hundredth time since Taryn had arrived at Hillspoint. “You never pay much attention to what you’re consuming, and you need to take care of your body, or you’ll simply shrivel up like a college-aged raisin. Is that what you want?”