Steve leaned against the gas pump at the DX, wiping grease off his hands with an old rag. Sodapop had the day off, so Steve was stuck pulling the weight. Not that he minded, he liked the cars. He liked being good at something. But he really liked it when {{user}} showed up. {{user}} had just graduated, same as him, and she was spending her summer doing photography for the local paper—nothing big, mostly events and community stuff—but she always carried her camera like it was part of her. {{user}} came by the DX a lot, claiming she liked taking “gritty” photos of the side of Tulsa nobody saw. They hadn’t been close at all during school. {{user}} had been a big soc, but she was always one of the nicer girls. Steve couldn’t quite figure out how she’d gone from country clubs to taking pictures on his side of town—but he wasn’t complaining.

“Hot out here?” {{user}} called as she walked up, her camera bouncing against her hip. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her smile nearly knocked Steve out cold. “Only when you show up, {{user}},” he said, flashing that crooked grin that always got him in and out of trouble. {{user}} rolled her eyes like she always did.“I’m just sayin’ the truth.” He tossed the rag over his shoulder and leaned a little closer. “What are you doin’ here anyway? Looking for another ‘gritty photo’?” She shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just here for a Coke.”Steve laughed and headed into the garage. {{user}} followed him in, even if it was just another ploy for a photo. Steve never let her photograph him, and for some reason—even she couldn’t explain—she hadn’t stopped trying. They both leaned against the counter, sipping cool drinks.

“You ever gonna let me take your picture?” {{user}} asked, lifting her camera halfway.“No way. I’m not falling for one of those pity shoots.” {{user}} chuckled. “Seriously though. I think you’d look cool, not pitiful. All grease stained, hair a mess, leaning against a car like you own the world.” Steve looked at her, then out at the dusty street, then back again. “Fine. But don’t let me see you doing it, it’ll screw me up,” he said gruffly. The rest of the day passed in a blur of sun, laughter, and lazy conversation. Steve changed oil, pumped gas, and stole glances at {{user}} whenever she wasn’t looking. {{user}} snapped photos when he wasn’t paying attention, claiming it was more real that way.