Page 10

Ronnie

O n the ferry boat to Staten Island, I grab my Nikon camera and take pictures of the ride—the New York skyline. Manhattan. The statue of liberty. And Bradley and Amber when they aren’t looking.

I smile as I snap one picture of them chatting and smiling at each other. Another of Amber closing her eyes and enjoying the breeze. And one of Bradley rubbing the back of his neck when he gazes at me.

The wind is caressing and all of my worries are left at home. This week is for me and them. A chance to see where they came from, get to know each other more, and find our paths together and individually.

I fixate on the water slouching and creating creases and foam at its surface. I did photography a couple of years before the club was ready but it’s been ages and it feels good to hold a camera again, feel its weight in my palm.

Taking a picture of it, I suddenly feel a jolt of nausea surging up my body.

Even with the subtle motion of the boat, my stomach whisks. I did eat right before we hopped on this ride and I do get easily motion sick that is why I don’t go on Ferris wheels or anything like it.

Gulping, I focus on Amber and Bradley as they approach me.

“My dad left a car for us near the terminal,” Amber texts on her phone. “He is excited to meet you.” She rocks her body around her studded black boots, heels firmly planted against the floor but she seems nervous for some reason.

“I’m so pumped as well, I’ve missed my family.” Bradley bounces in place, he can’t keep his excitement bottled inside nor should he.

I try not to make sharp movements, but crack up my neck a little.

“Are you okay? You don’t look so good.” The concern in her voice is palpable, and then her hand cups my cheek.

“I’m a little motion sick.” I close my eyes.

A larger, rougher palm holds my other side. “Why didn’t you say so before we took it? I could’ve bought you lemon or ginger capsules.”

“I completely forgot.”

The sour taste in my mouth grows right as my eyes land on the terminal before us.