Memory 1, Week 5

My friends and I huddle around the dining table, snickering and glancing. I look behind Meagan who gives me this careful smile over the rim of her coke, one eye closing slightly in what looks like a frozen wink--her version of scrutiny. I spot them, two boys, not even all that good-looking but available, nodding heads and sinking big bites into their burgers. "I feel like such a creeper." Megan giggles, tossing her hair in just a way that she can glance back at them. One of the boys brushes crumbs from his blue shirt and we all bend our heads together again, fight laughter. Kyleen then takes to texting, her dad I think, and it gives me the idea to pull out my own phone. "I'm going to do it," I tell them, feeling proud in my own slickness, "I'm going to take their picture." They look at me in wide-eyed surprise, then Megan tilts her head slightly. Her way of giving me the go-ahead. They were now completely cleared for the shot. I don't know why I took the picture. As I said, I didn't find them attractive, not even remotely. But there was something thrilling about it, the idea of capturing someone, of stalking someone, without them having the single bit of hint. I lifted my phone casually, pretended to text while I opened my camera. Kyleen chewed her straw and waited, disbelieving. Megan tried not to move her head and thought pumped through me like a transformer. I hit the capture button. I made them mine.