The Lens Never Saw Me
Language: en
Senior trip, Jerry’s lens stayed fixed on me all day. Classmates teased, “Joan, does he even see anyone else?” I blushed and said nothing. From freshman to senior year, across one thousand and ninety-six days, he had taken one thousand three hundred and seventy-two photos of me. I thought every shutter click was a quiet confession of love. That evening, we gathered in the cabin living room to project our trip photos. Jerry stepped outside to take a call. Dakin, our class president, accidentally swiped into a hidden folder on Jerry’s laptop. The screen flooded with images of me. My heart…