I saw her neck move as she swallowed. Her eyes widened and I realized she thought I wanted to photograph her naked. “Um, with your clothes on, of course.”
Her expression lightened. “Sure, I’d be happy to.” She continued to stare at the photograph. “But I think I could model for you like this girl, if it’s done like this.” She turned her green eyes on me. “Maybe someday, after we’ve known each other for a while. You know, for the sake of art?” She smirked.
I tried not to picture her naked. “Yeah, for the sake of art.” And a work of art she was. She wore a man’s white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, with the top two buttons open. Her pink toenails caught my eye before my gaze moved up to the skin peeking out from a hole in the knee of her jeans. I watched as she began to braid her long blonde hair over her shoulder. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her and she noticed, but instead of saying something rude she just smiled.
“So why did you call it Geezer House?” I asked as I turned to unpack the large box. I needed to distract myself so I’d stop staring at her.
“Because it’s really fucking boring here. Seriously, I’ve been here a week and already I feel like my soul is dying.”
I laughed at the dramatics. “That bad, huh?”
“I haven’t played the cello once since I moved in; I’m afraid people will complain. Oh, by the way, you’ll have to let me know if my playing gets too loud for you. Just bang on the wall or something.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m in the room right next door. The practice rooms are too far away, so I’ll probably end up practicing in my room a lot. I’m a music major.”
“That’s really cool. I’d love to hear you play sometime.” I couldn’t believe she was in the room right next to mine.
“Anytime. So, not very many people choose dorm life their senior year. What’s your excuse?”
“Couldn’t afford anything else.” I noticed she was wearing a badge with Greek symbols. “What about you? How come you don’t live in the sorority house?”
She pointed at the badge over her breast. “Oh, this? It’s fake. Well, it’s not fake; I stole it. I live here ’cause I’m too dirt-ass poor to live anywhere else. My parents don’t have any money to contribute for tuition, and it’s hard for me to keep a job since I have to practice so much. I use this to get free meals at the dining hall on 14th street.” She held her fist up and punched the air. “Pi Beta Phi, mac and cheese for life!”
She was adorable. “I can’t imagine this place will be too boring with you here.”
“Thanks.” I looked up to catch her blushing. “I really don’t have that much school spirit, but my music buddies will come over and liven things up for us once classes start and everyone is back in the city. I lived with a bunch of people in a crappy apartment over the summer and I got used to having a lot a friends around. It’s been really quiet here. So far most of the residents keep to themselves.”
“Why didn’t you go home over the summer?”
“No space. My parents’ house is small and I have three younger sisters and a brother. They all still live at home.” She hopped off the desk and moved to the other side of the room to look through the items I had unpacked and stacked on the floor. “Shut up!” She held up Grace by Jeff Buckley. “He’s practically the reason I came to NYU.”
“He’s a genius. Have you seen him play?” I asked.
“No, I’m dying to, though. I guess he lives in Memphis now. I moved all the way to New York from Arizona and then spent my first three months here searching for him in the East Village. I’m a total groupie. Someone told me he left New York a long time ago. I still listen to Grace everyday. It’s like my music bible. I like to pretend he named the album after me.” She chuckled. “You know what? You kinda look like him.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, you have better hair, but you both have those dark, deep-set eyes. And you both pull off a scruffy jawline pretty well.”
I brushed my knuckles over my chin and felt a tinge of insecurity. “I need to shave.”
“No, I like it. It looks good on you. You have that thin build, too, but I think you’re a bit taller than him. How tall are you?”
“Six one.”
She nodded. “Yeah, I think he’s much shorter.”
I sat down on my bed and lay back, propping my hands behind my head, watching her in amusement. She held up A Portable Beat Reader. “Wow. We’re soul twins for sure. Please tell me I’ll find some Vonnegut in here?”
“You’ll definitely find some Vonnegut. Hand me that CD over there and I’ll put it on,” I said, gesturing toward Ten by Pearl Jam.
“I should go practice in a minute but will you play “Release”? That’s my favorite from this album.”
“Sure, as long as I can photograph you.”
“Okay.” She shrugged. “What should I do?”
“Do whatever feels natural.”
I popped the CD into the stereo, reached for my camera, and began snapping away. She moved around the room to the music, twirling and singing.
At one point, she stopped and looked grimly into the lens. “Do I look lame?”
“No,” I said as I continued pressing the shutter. “You look beautiful.”