Page 27 of With Stars in Her Eyes

Thea

“ Hello ?” A velvety voice called out from the main room of my studio. I pushed open the door to my makeshift darkroom, realizing that the sun was so low in the sky that the room was pitch-black. It probably seemed like I was trying to lure her into a trap or something with how dark it was.

“ Hey .” The light from the repurposed janitor’s closet illuminated Courtney’s apprehensive face.

She looked as adorable as ever in the unzipped hoodie and jeans she had been worried were too casual earlier.

My attention on her clothes reminded me I’d stripped down to a tight camisole, no bra beneath, because it had been boiling up here.

Okay, now this really seemed creepy. I asked her to meet me in a darkroom, and when she showed up, I decided to have my nips on display.

Not exactly the classiest start to Operation WOO.

“I’m so sorry it’s a million degrees in here.

I think the building manager hasn’t quite caught up that it’s not cold as a witch’s tit outside anymore.

” Oh, why did I say tit ? Now I just drew more attention to the whole nipples-out situation.

“I—uh—have the windows open though. Now it’s not pouring practically sideways anymore. ”

Courtney pulled off her rain-damp hood. “It’s supposed to stop storming soon. It’s been so dark all day.”

“Let me turn on a light, so you can see better.” With one hand covering my cleavage so I didn’t give her a full show, I leaned down and flipped on the antique lamp I picked up last week.

“Holy shit. Wow.” Courtney’s attention, thankfully, wasn’t on my chest. She was scanning the space.

Her awe filled me with pride. The main room was a dreamy dark blue and purple with gold accents and full of astrological imagery.

I’d put up a lot of things from my old apartment that did not fit with the bachelor pad vibe of Marshall’s condo.

I wanted to infuse the storage space with some magic so I would be excited to work up here.

“I can’t believe this is the same room from a month ago.” Courtney loosed a low whistle. “You did all this yourself?”

“Marshall helped some too.” I straightened a framed photo on the wall and then gestured to the open area where there was a backdrop.

“I’m thinking about seeing if Denise wants me to use it to take photos of her clients’ tattoos.

Basically, just brainstorming ways to use it to pay for the rent for it eventually because I’ve fallen in love with it.

” She wrinkled her nose. “I think the smell’s gone too. Good.”

“The smell?” Courtney inhaled.

“I was using incense the last few days, but given your whole migraine thing, I borrowed Marshall’s mini air purifier he takes on the road with him. Works pretty well actually.” When I turned back, an odd expression shadowed Courtney’s features before she turned back to me, her smile back in place.

“It just smells good in here—like you, I mean your perfume or whatever. Not that I’m…” Courtney trailed off with her cheeks pinker than before.

She thinks I smell good?

“Oh my god.” Courtney crossed the room to a gold circle that was on a high shelf. “Is that an astrolabe?”

I nodded. “Impressive. Most people think it’s a compass. It’s not an antique or anything. Bought it on Etsy. It looks like the one my grandfather had though. I figured with the whole Squid-slash-under-the-sea vibes of my job, having some nautical stuff here might be fun.”

“I was really into ships as a kid.” Courtney huffed a tiny laugh. “Now my motion sickness could never .”

I laughed. “Same. Sort of poetic to long for the sea and to be stuck on land. You definitely should pick a future Historically Hot and Bottled Book Club book with that as a subplot.”

“I was really into astronomy as a kid. My parents always tried to make it a Christian thing—like God knowing the names of all the stars in the heavens , but I’m pretty sure it began after I caught a few episodes of Sailor Moon at a daycare program once and experienced some highly confusing feelings that made more sense once I discovered I was a lesbian. ”

I snorted.

Courtney smirked, but her gaze became locked on a framed photo in the position of honor on the wall. In the foreground there was a giant tree on its own in a field. The background was open sky with circular patterns, almost like ripples on a pond.

Courtney’s finger dragged along the words below the photo.

STAR TRAILS OVER MCBAINE BURR OAK

NEAR COLUMBIA, MO

PHOTOGRAPHER: THEA QUINN

“You took this?”

“Yep. It’s the only photo I’ve ever won an award for. Third place, but I basically carry it with me everywhere like it’s a trophy.”

“I’m sorry if this is a rude question… Is the effect with the lines in the sky… like is that a Photoshop thing? It doesn’t seem like it, but I…” Courtney’s nose was an inch from the photo.

“Lemme show you.” I pulled an old leather album off the bookcase and flipped through to find the astrophotography pages.

“Here are some more shots like that. Those are star trails. You set a long exposure and because of the movement of the earth you see these arcing lines. Sometimes you can get full circles.”

“You do this with film? Not digital cameras?”

My cheeks went hotter than the room around me.

“I’ve always mostly shot with film because I learned the basics on my grandfather’s old cameras.

Kind of like the people who still drive a stick shift.

Film seems more…” I traced the lines in the photo like Courtney had just traced my name. “More tangible maybe?”

“You date and shoot photos in analog?”

“At least I’m consistent.”

Courtney’s shoulder grazed mine, making my skin surge with an electric intensity that craved more.

Our fingers were inches away from each other on the plastic pages holding the photos.

When she turned to look back at the photo mounted on the wall, some of her hair swept across my neck, sending a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room or the breeze from the windows.

“Did you take these too?” Courtney gestured to the leather book.

“No, my grandfather took those.” I rose. “Speaking of which. We need to photograph that aura. So come here.”

The blue metal box on a tripod was set up in front of the backdrop. A little table was set up in front of it with two additional flat blue boxes. It did not look anything like a typical camera, so I wasn’t surprised by Courtney’s apparent confusion.

“My grandfather was an electrical engineer and a NASA scientist, but he had a special interest on the side in photography. Some of it was just experimenting to see if anything could have scientific applications. But it also meant he loved trying a lot of new kinds of cameras.”

“This is a camera?”

“Yep.” I held out a photo. It was me, surrounded by bursts of a deep purple color with an arc of red and orange above my head.

Courtney smiled at the photo. “I think I’ve seen these photos online, but I just thought it was a filter?”

“There are filters, but this is the original camera that created the concept. You put your hands on the plates, and they read your energy. It was invented in the eighties, but it’s definitely soared in popularity recently.”

“Really?” Skepticism edged Courtney’s voice.

“Who knows really. I believe there’s some kind of energy there, because I’ve taken a lot of these photos over the years. My grandfather just thought it produced beautiful and interesting photos.” I pulled out another photo that seemed much older as it was slightly yellowed.

A little girl in pigtails sat in the photo. My chubby childhood face with all my dimples on framing a mischievous grin.

“You as a kid?”

“Yep. These are my grandparents.”

“Your grandmother was beautiful. She looks like you.”

“People say that sometimes, but my mom says… never mind.” I tucked my wild hair behind my ears. “It’s getting late, and I keep getting distracted. Let’s take your photo. If you still are okay with it?”

“What if it tells you too much about who I am?” Courtney’s voice had lowered to a whisper. It was like the fear had come out more seriously than she meant for it to.

“I’m not sure that’s possible, but if you don’t want—”

Before I could give her another out, Courtney sat down on the stool and held up her hands, ready to be directed. I placed her hands on the blue boxes.

“Should I—er—smile?”

“Make whatever expression feels the most you.”

After another of Courtney’s long, unreadable stares into space, she kept her face mostly natural. Natural Courtney with her eyes catching the light was hypnotic. I could barely look away long enough to remember what I was supposed to be doing.

“ God .” My voice was low and reverent. A tone better suited to smoky churches or temples. “You’re very, very beautiful, Courtney Starling.”

I hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

As her gaze settled on me, a hint of a smile parted her lips, but she didn’t speak. She kept her hands pressed to the plates as instructed while something warm and glowy built in the space beneath my ribs.

“Got it.” Hoping to pass over the too much compliment I had just heaved on her, I fussed over the camera until I pulled a rectangular piece of paper from it. “We have to wait a minute for it to develop.”

“Like a Polaroid?”

“Kind of. And I was thinking about what you asked about whether any of this is ‘real,’ and I think with anything—whatever the colors show or the tarot cards tell you—the real thing is in the way your mind and heart react to what you see. For me, I do believe in the metaphysical even though my academic background is in science. I think there’s always more to everyone than we can see.

And it’s better to find out more about ourselves in a nonjudgmental, positive sort of way.

So… is this art to help you see yourself in a new way, or is this some kind of mystical magic with unseen energy?

I think I do, myself, believe it’s both, but I’m also okay if the answer is only one of the two. ”

Courtney nodded slowly, considering my words without responding to them.

My grip tightened on the photo. “I’m not sure if that was too woo-woo or not woo-woo enough for a person who reads tarot and asked to photograph your aura.” I winced, replaying that completely silly-sounding sentence in my mind.

“I think you’re the exact amount of woo-woo that’s right.”

Smiling, I handed her the photo. “You can look at it first. Peel the top layer off.” I demonstrated with my hands.

After a few seconds of scrutinizing the photo, she passed it to me. In the image, color wreathed her face, pink and a little bit of orange and turquoise, but the dominant color was a deep purple that was almost blue. Above her head was an arc of yellow with a hint of green.

“Do you want an interpretation?”

“Only if it won’t hurt my feelings.” She braced as if expecting an uncomfortable truth coming.

“Don’t be silly. I told you. There’re no bad auras.”

“All right. Analyze me, then.”

“I think you’re an expansive visionary. Playful with some retained features of childhood that most people lose. Creative. With an active inner life.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.”

I measured her, took a deep breath, and decided to just freaking go for it. “And, I had this other idea, and I wanted to see if you were down.”

Courtney’s eyes widened. “Down for—?”