Alice asked him to sit for portraits again, and Ben had the beginning of a new not-caring that made him feel like maybe he could try for her. Why should her refusing prevent him from saying it?

And then they were in the studio together again. He felt the mass of all the things he wanted to say to her, but instead he sat in that room and stayed quiet.

“Now the college consultant guy loves that I’m taking photos,” Alice said. “‘This is great for your narrative’ are actually the words that came out of his mouth. ‘This is what sets you apart from all the Asian kids with sixteen hundreds on their SATs.’ Why couldn’t he just leave this alone?”

“They should know you’re good at it,” Ben said.

“What if I’m not any good? Why is it important that I’m good? As soon as he said it, the drain opened up under my enthusiasm.”

“But here we are.”

“Here we are, still.”

She started taking pictures, and he imagined going to her room. He would walk to her door and come in without knocking, and she would look up and immediately put some textbook aside and pat a space next to her on the couch—no, nobody pats the space next to them. Maybe instead she would come to his room, and her coming would put him at ease because it would mean she was interested in him, and he would make a joke and she would laugh. He wouldn’t have to strain to smell her smell. He would lean and kiss her, and instead of him making the decision about whether to put his hand on her breast, she would take hold of his hand and pull it there. And then when Ahmed got caught and kicked out, Alice would go to Aston’s office and appeal for a second chance, for aid, but Ben would stop her—his family’s pride—and Alice would never forget him.

“Um, can you do something else with your face?”

“Something else?”

“Yeah, you’ve been looking the same for a while.”

Ben didn’t move his face.

“I’m worried about Ahmed.”

She stood up from behind the camera. “Hanging out with Tommy and those guys?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“I sort of like Tommy, actually.”

“Yeah, but you can handle yourself. You know how to, like, stay yourself while you’re with him.”

“Who is Ahmed’s self, though?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why can’t Ahmed be figuring out what he wants to be like with them?”

“You really think that would be a good version of him?”

“Who decides ‘good’?”

Ben sighed. “Couldn’t we take some pictures outside?”

“Nah, I don’t know how to do natural light.”

“Do you ever think about leaving, Alice?”