“Remember when I wanted to show you the most beautiful thing I’d ever photographed?” I nodded. He picked up the box and carried it to his bed. He lifted the lid, struggling to gather whatever was inside, and then placed a stack of photos, all black and whites and various sizes, on his quilt. He spread them out. Every single one was of me—this year, my freshman year, and very few of them were taken when I was looking at the camera. Then I noticed some photos of me when I was in middle school, and one where I was wearing a dress I hadn’t been able to fit into since the sixth grade.
