Chapter 2: The Shot That Changed Everything

Carter and I first met because of a candid photo.

It was one of those golden autumn afternoons, the campus bathed in sunlight. The basketball court was packed, Carter at the center of it all, every move smooth and effortless. I was there with my camera, hoping to capture the energy of the game.

He was playing in a basketball game, surrounded by layers of screaming girls. I was deep into photography at the time, and he was the perfect subject. So I squeezed into the crowd, snapping away.

I’d been so focused on getting the shot that I didn’t notice him looking my way. The shutter clicked, and suddenly he was right in front of me, eyes sharp.

Bad luck—I got caught. He took my camera, deleting photos like a man on a mission.

He was quick, scrolling through my gallery, deleting every photo of himself. I tried to protest, but he just raised an eyebrow, daring me to stop him.

Why only mine? Other people took pictures too—was it just because I had a camera?

I watched as other girls snapped pictures with their phones, unbothered. I felt singled out, embarrassed and a little angry.

I was fuming, but didn’t dare say anything. When I got my camera back, I found he’d missed one—the one where he’d lifted his shirt and flashed a bit of abs.

I stared at it, torn between deleting it and framing it. The photo was perfect—sunlight catching on his skin, a rare smile breaking through his usual cool expression. I kept it, hidden in a folder no one else knew about.

Every time I saw that photo, I had to admit: the universe really did play favorites. He was just too good-looking—face, body, even his cocky charm.

I’d scroll past it late at night, my heart skipping a beat. It was almost unfair how photogenic he was.

Rumor had it that enough girls had chased him to fill a whole football team.

I heard stories in the dining hall, in the library, even in line at the coffee shop. Everyone had a Carter Hayes story, but none of them really knew him.

At first, I just admired him from an artistic perspective. Didn’t think much of it. But just as I was about to forget, I got a new shoot request—turned out to be Carter himself. He needed some lifestyle shots for an upcoming academic competition. Who’d have guessed the campus heartbreaker was also a top student?

I nearly dropped my phone when I saw the request. I double-checked the name, convinced it was a prank. But it was him, all right—Carter Hayes, the last person I expected to want his picture taken.

Luckily, he didn’t recognize me. But he was terrible at photos. I had to constantly adjust his pose, guide his expression, coax him to relax and smile. It was exhausting. Even worse, every time I got close, my heart pounded like crazy. Just moving his arm, tilting his face, lifting his chin—every touch felt like fire.

He’d tense up whenever I got too close, his jaw clenching, eyes darting away. I’d have to crack a joke or tease him to get a real smile. By the end of the shoot, I was sweating more than he was.

I’d never had this problem shooting anyone else.

Usually, I was calm, professional. But with Carter, my hands shook, my voice wobbled. He brought out a side of me I didn’t recognize.

He was cold, but surprisingly easy to work with. After seeing the photos, he just added me on Instagram and paid, no questions asked.

He sent a simple message—"Thanks. Good work." That was it. No small talk, no flirting. Just business. I tried not to read too much into it.

But this guy was addictive. For the next month, every other shoot felt dull. No one else looked right in the lens. It killed my creative spark. And then, orders started pouring in. I was swamped.

Suddenly, everyone wanted photos like Carter’s. My inbox was full, my calendar booked solid. I barely had time to breathe, let alone think about him.

Turns out, everyone found me because of Carter’s photos online—my contact info was even on them.

I panicked, scrolling through Instagram and seeing my watermark on every repost. What if Carter thought I was using his photos for publicity? I hadn’t sent them to anyone, but it didn’t matter. The damage was done.

Panic! What if he thought I was using his pictures for advertising? I hadn’t sent them to anyone!

I drafted a dozen apology messages, deleted them all, then paced my dorm room, trying to figure out what to do. I was terrified he’d think I’d betrayed his trust.

While I was agonizing over whether to explain, I ran into him on the street. He looked like he’d just been in a fight—intense, with a split lip, eyes cold and sharp. I was so scared I ran up to explain.

He was leaning against a lamppost, hoodie pulled up, looking like trouble. My heart pounded as I hurried over, blurting out an apology before I lost my nerve.

“Um, your photos—I didn’t post them online.”

I twisted my hands, voice shaking. He looked at me, unreadable.

“No wonder my DMs have been blowing up lately.”

His tone was dry, but there was a glint of humor in his eyes. I relaxed, just a little.

“It really wasn’t me…”

I trailed off, hoping he’d believe me. He just shrugged, as if it didn’t matter.

“I’m hungry. Let’s eat first.”

He said it so casually, like we were old friends. Before I knew it, he was leading me down the street to a tiny diner, the kind with sticky tables and a jukebox in the corner.

Next thing I knew, I was sitting across from Carter at a small diner near campus, buying him dinner as an apology. I figured, with all the new clients, I owed him at least that much.

He ordered a burger and fries, then watched me with that steady gaze as I picked at my salad. The silence was comfortable, surprisingly. I found myself relaxing, forgetting why I was so nervous in the first place.

But as I was desperately trying to clear my name, the It girl from the foreign languages department suddenly burst in, crying.

She was stunning—long hair, perfect skin, eyes red from crying. She didn’t even glance at me, just marched straight to Carter.

“Why did you block me? Why are you avoiding me?”

Her voice trembled, full of hurt. I froze, unsure what to do.

“What’s wrong with me? I can change, okay?”

She pleaded, tears streaming down her face. The whole diner went quiet, everyone watching.

Carter looked annoyed, then suddenly glanced at me—was he asking me to give them space? I got up to leave, but he yanked me into his arms. That grassy scent washed over me as he kissed me—right on the lips.

It happened so fast, I barely had time to react. One second I was standing, the next his arms were around me, his lips pressed to mine. The world tilted, everything else fading away.

“See? I’m with someone now…”

His voice was steady, final. The beauty stared, then turned and left, tears still streaming. I sat there, stunned, lips tingling.

I didn’t hear a word after that, nor did I notice when the beauty left. My brain was just fireworks, electricity running through me.

I touched my lips, still in shock. My first kiss, and it was in front of half the campus. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.

Help! That was my first kiss.

I wanted to text my friends, but my hands were shaking too much. I just sat there, dazed, as Carter watched me, a hint of concern in his eyes.

It wasn’t until Carter apologized over and over that I snapped out of it, dazed. The first thing out of my mouth was, “...Can I chase you?”

I blurted it out, cheeks burning. He blinked, clearly not expecting that.

Now it was Carter’s turn to freeze.

He stared at me, speechless. For a moment, I thought he might say no. But then he nodded, just once, and I felt my heart soar.

Once my senses came back, I regretted it. But Carter had already reluctantly agreed, so I couldn’t back out.

I replayed the moment in my head a hundred times, wondering if I’d made a mistake. But it was too late. The chase was on.

Oh well, you don’t meet someone who makes you feel like this every day. If I crash and burn, so be it.

I decided to go all in. No regrets. I’d rather try and fail than always wonder what might have been.

He was the ice prince—if I failed, at least I’d tried.

I told myself that every time I got nervous, every time I wanted to give up. He was worth the risk.

So I did everything by the book—brought him breakfast, asked him out, brought him water at basketball games… I went through all the motions, working hard at it. Carter just watched, a mysterious smile on his lips, his gaze getting more and more unreadable.

I’d show up at his door with coffee and donuts, cheer him on at games, send him memes late at night. He’d smile, sometimes, but mostly he watched me like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve.

A month later, out of the blue, he grabbed my hand, took a picture, and posted it to his Instagram story.

It was a small thing, but it felt huge. Suddenly, everyone knew. My phone blew up with messages and friend requests. I wasn’t sure whether to be happy or terrified.

Caption: “It’s her. Not bad.”

He kept it simple, but it was enough. The whole campus was buzzing. I felt like I was walking on air.

Suddenly, everyone’s jaws hit the floor. The campus forum blew up. The anonymous confession page was plastered with my name every day. I was so dazed by my sudden luck, I thought my turn for sweet romance had finally come.

People I barely knew stopped me in the hallway to congratulate me. My friends squealed, demanding details. I felt like I was living in a rom-com, waiting for the other shoe to drop.