I was able to get a few good shots of the various exhibited items while listening to our tour guide. We crossed paths with other groups from time to time, but surprisingly enough never with Joey’s. I guess the universe had decided not to taunt me today. Then again, I was not actually sure what possibility was worse: enduring the constant, anxiety-inducing anticipation of seeing the guy I was head over heels for, or experiencing a short, awkward moment while crossing paths.
When the time came to roam around freely, I decided not to bother Derek (who had already moved on to another friend of his to chat with) and adventurously set off on my own in search of some peace and quiet. I started walking toward the obscure section of the museum; my guess was that most students would be drawn to the more flashy showpieces displayed in the main hall. I was thrilled to find I had been right. When I got to the pottery and utilities section, there was only one other person with me in the room, but my excitement swiftly faded when I realised who it was. My heart dropped.
Curse you, universe!
Joey looked up when he heard my footsteps. He was squatting in front of a cabinet full of dusty old pots, cans and cups. It was truly a surreal sight to see him without his friends and for a second I wondered if he had gotten lost. What was a jock like him doing in a place like this? “Hey, Simon!" His eyes lit up when he noticed it was me who had joined him. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
His bright smile melted my insecurities away and I carefully approached him. I had half expected him to cause a ruckus during our free period by doing something stupid like trying to touch the priceless artefacts on display, so spotting him looking so intently at a boring, educational exhibit was a bit unnerving.
“I could say the same thing," I answered as I sat down next to him. "What're you up to?"
“I'm looking at the pottery of course,” he laughed, "what else could I be up to?” He pointed to one of the pots. “Isn’t it amazing? Look at those carvings! Did you know you can tell where a piece is from by the colour of the clay? Every area has its own, unique geographical history and that history is reflected in the clay that is typically used in the region.”
I was taken aback by Joey's genuine enthusiasm and responded: “No, I did not know that." Who could have guessed that Joey was such a big history buff?
“Well, now you do!" He smiled. "I don’t understand why most people overlook this stuff. Everything we find contributes to what we know about our history. It's fascinating! The stories behind these pots and pans may just be as interesting as the history of the bigger, shinier pieces that we were shown during the tour. Maybe these pots once belonged to a great warrior or someone of royalty. Or, maybe, they were made by the wife of a poor pig farmer who used them for special occasions. It’s fun to imagine how these items would have been used.” Joey's earnest passion was infectious and I caught myself wishing he would tell me more about his personal interests. History... Sports... It would not matter; I could listen to him for hours on end.
I shifted my weight around until I sat (relatively) comfortably on the cold, stone floor. I tentatively wondered: “How did I not know you like history? We were friends for ages..."
His expression became unreadable for a moment when I mentioned our collective past. Eventually, he shyly answered: “Well… I guess you’ve never seen me care about it much. We haven’t had history together in a long time.” His gaze drifted off a bit, but then something caught his eye. With a cheeky smile, he added: “I never knew you liked photography.” I felt caught and quickly hid the camera behind my back.
“I-I don’t,” I sputtered a tad too quickly. A fierce, pink blush of shame crawled onto my face. I could not exactly pinpoint why I felt so ashamed about enjoying such an innocent hobby as photography. Perhaps I simply felt guilty about spending time on anything other than my greatest passion: ballet. Any time spent on photography, was time wasted not practising my choreography. “I mean... I don’t have a lot of time to practice it at home, because of my strict training schedule. But, I wanted to try it now that we’re here. It would be a shame if no one documents all that we’ve seen.”
“It's okay to enjoy something and not have time for it,” Joey sniggered, "but you shouldn't be ashamed about liking photography. There’s nothing wrong with that.” I wondered whether he would say the same thing about me having a crush on him if he knew.
Joey saw my pained expression and put his hand on my shoulder. “Hey, don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul if it’s such a big deal to you, okay?”
His touch sent a burning heat through my arm and I quickly shrugged off his hand before the heat would engulf the rest of my body. “Thank you…”
“No problem,” he answered softly. “That said, would you mind sending some of those pictures over? I always forget to take pictures of the things I experience on trips or holidays. I get too caught up in the moment,” he sheepishly admitted.
“Sure, I don’t mind,” I smiled in return.
Without warning, Joey snatched my phone out of my back pocket. “Hey, give that back!” I panicked. The knowledge of how close joey’s hand had been to my ass (for a second) made my blush even fiercer and I was sure that blush would only get worse if Joey found anything on my phone that was not meant for his eyes.
I tried to snatch my phone back, but Joey looked confused and raised his arm above his head to keep it out of my reach. “Chill, Simon,” he frowned. “I’m just giving you my number so you can share the photos with me. It’s faster if I type it myself.” He quickly added his number to my phone and handed my phone back to me. “See? Not doing anything weird,” he huffed with a dopey smile.
All the heat in my body left from Joey's touch was eliminated when I suddenly heard footsteps behind us. "Well, look what we have here..." The blood froze in my veins when I recognized the stranger's voice. Well, fuck me, the universe had truly dealt me a bad hand today.
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