Just One Kiss

by Amelia Whitmore

  My eyes widen. “You live in the Craycroft apartment complex?”

  He nods, looking confused as to how I know this.

  “I used to volunteer in the daycare there over the summers. When it burned down, they called and let me know that it wouldn’t be reopening. They’d been looking for a reason to close it for a while, and after the fire, they’re turning the area into a gym.”

  “That’s so crazy!” he says, amused. “We totally could’ve seen each other before!”

  I smile. “Must be fate.”

  “But it’s more than just that. I mean, I wouldn’t have even been at the Fall Fest if I hadn’t been living with my parents. The only reason I went was because they decided last minute to make it a family day.”

  “Oh my god,” I whisper, thinking about all of the coincidences that have happened thus far. “Your apartment burned down, causing you to live with your parents. Your parents managed to get you to go to the Fest. I convinced Ro to join me. Ro gave you my number. You came by the coffee shop to see Carlos, and found me.” I take a pause and look up at him with wide, excited eyes. “Brayden, it really is fate.”

  “You know, I always thought all that fate shit was, well, shit. But I guess that fate has a way of surprising all of us,” he says.

  “I’m glad,” I say, hugging him to my side.

  “Me too,” he agrees, placing a light kiss on my temple.

  We continue walking through the store, both of us a bit distracted by what we’ve just realized, when I see a woman smiling widely at us. I grin back and nod my head a bit to say hi. Apparently, that’s me inviting her to have a conversation because she quickly walks over and holds out her hand. “Hello, I’m Helena Rose,” she tells me confidently.

  Brayden and I both share confused looks before we each shake her hand. “Anna,” I say after Brayden introduces himself.

  “I know this must seem strange to you, but I’m a photographer and I’ve been looking for models for a shoot I had in mind. You two are virtually perfect and I’d love for you to be a part of it. Here’s my card, please give me a call after you’ve discussed it,” she says, smiling again before walking away.

  Both of us are staring at her retreating figure with open mouths. Models? Sure, I could see Brayden doing that, but me? No way.

  “Well that was weird,” I say, turning to Brayden.

  “Yeah, it was. Seems like a cool idea, though,” he says, checking out the card she handed us. I look and see that it’s very professional with a modern edge to it.

  “It is a cool idea; too bad we’re not doing it,” I tell him, beginning to push the cart again.

  “Wait, why aren’t we doing it?” he asks me, walking with his arm around my waist again.

  “Um, maybe because I’m definitely not a model?” I say sarcastically, like it’s obvious.

  “Okay. Firstly, quit hating your body. Yes, I realize that’s easier said than done, but I’m still saying it. I love your body; almost everybody else loves your body. Believe me, I’ve seen guys checking you out. It’s obnoxious. Secondly, if she didn’t like your body, she wouldn’t have asked,” he harrumphs, sounding irritated.

  I sigh. “I’m sorry, but I hate getting my picture taken. I can’t imagine actually modeling for somebody.”

  “I’ll be there the entire time; I’m sure it’ll be fun,” he assures me hopefully.

  I look up at him warily. “Fine, but if it’s not, I’m never kissing you again,” I threaten.

  He grins. “That’s okay. We don’t have to kiss to—“ I cut him off by slapping my hand over his mouth. There are children in this store. He waggles his eyebrows at me.

  “That too,” I say quickly.

  He frowns. “But you added that on after. It shouldn’t count,” he whines.

  “Well it does, and you know why?” I tell him confidently.

  “Why, dear?” he asks, clearly only to appease me.

  “Because I’m the girl. So I’m the boss.”

  He starts laughing and says, “Okay, you win. I can’t compete with your vagina.”

  I immediately start blushing, feeling like he’s now thinking about my, er, private places. He’s laughing even harder as we arrive at the checkout.

  To shop at a store like this, you need to be a member. Luckily for me, Lena worked here last year and got to add a few family members to her account. I walk ahead and hand the man my ID card. One thing I really don’t like about Sam’s Club is that they don’t give you any bags. Even if you just got small items, you’d have to bring your own bags or carry them in your arms. It’s annoying when you’re unloading groceries.

  The good news is that there’s a little café by the registers so I make Brayden go get us some pizzas and drinks, trying to save some time. While he’s gone, I’m completely distracted by the thought of actually modeling for somebody. I’m sure it’s probably one of those backyard events, but it’s still intimidating to think about getting my picture taken by a stranger.

  I sigh and clear my thoughts, realizing that as long as it makes Brayden happy, I’d do just about anything.

  ***

  This freaking photo shoot was the worst idea ever. I hate Brayden so much right now I could practically strangle him. It turns out that Helena Rose is actually Helena R. Fuentes, one of the top-rated photographers for Lady magazine, which is one of the top teenage fashion magazines in the country. What the hell was she doing in Minnesota, anyway?

  When we got here this morning, about two weeks after our trip to Sam’s Club, there were about a billion people “on set.” We were immediately separated and brought to clothing and makeup. The whole process of dolling me up was a lot shorter than I expected, but it still took about forty-five minutes.

  The two-second glance I get in the mirror before being pulled away for pictures shows me in a rust and cream- colored sleeveless dress with a floral pattern that hugs the base of my neck and goes down to just above my knees. My feet are already killing me in insanely high red stilettos. My hair is in a voluminous old Hollywood style with my side bangs pulled up and swept off to the side, the rest tumbling in curls down my back. My eyes are now dark and smoky, with fake eyelashes, and my lips have never been this red. I feel like Snow White.

  “Anna, they need you out there now,” I hear someone tell me.

  “Okay,” I say nervously, wondering what’s about to happen.

  I follow Helena’s assistant around the large building we’re shooting in until we reach a long white sheet that’s hung up, probably to give us a white background.

  A huge smile covers my face when I see Brayden hanging out with some of the workers on set, already friends with them. One of the guys nudges his arm, motioning to me. I watch as Brayden quickly turns and a smile bigger than mine appears on his face.

  I laugh a little nervously before meeting him halfway, stopping in front of a dark brown leather couch set up as a prop. When we meet, Brayden grabs my right hand and lifts it, making me spin for him, before pulling me back in and grabbing my other hand. Before he can say anything, a voice interrupts him. “That was perfect! Such chemistry!”

  I blush and look to my left with wide eyes to see Helena standing behind a camera looking impressed. “Oh, sorry,” I say, not apologizing for the chemistry, but for not realizing she was standing there.

  “Don’t be sorry, dear. Unfortunately, it’s not quite what we’re going for with this one, but that’d be perfect for the yellow dress,” she assures me, assuming I know what she’s talking about. I don’t. “Now, I want you both to sit on the couch. Brayden, I see you slouching against the armrest, your chin resting on your arm, okay?” she asks, and nods as Brayden does what she says, looking like he’s enjoying a lazy Sunday in front of the TV. “Now, Anna, I want you sitting beside Brayden, leaning against him and looking so bored you could almost fall asleep, okay?”

  I nod and do as she says, feeling really weird. I thought we were going to be modeling. Instead, I get to sit around. I could get used to
this. Only then she starts fiddling with the camera, apparently deciding that she needs to switch to a different one. Absentmindedly, I sigh and sit forward, resting my elbows on my knees and my head in my palms. I’m absently looking up at the ceiling for something interesting when I’m nearly blinded.

  “That’s perfect, much better than you slouching. It gives us a better light too.” I blush when I realize she thinks I’m modeling.

  “Yes! That uncomfortable face you’re making right now, Anna, that’s great, keep doing it!” she exclaims, sounding inspired by my complete lack of skill.

  When a small piece of hair falls in front of my face, despite the gallon of hairspray the makeup artists used, I give an accidental irritated scowl and try blowing it away from my face. “Anna, you’re a natural,” I hear Helena exclaim.

  Then I feel Brayden’s body jerk a little bit and I know he’s chuckling. I twist my head and narrow my eyes at him. “You’re not trying at all, are you?” he asks knowingly, amused as he leans forward to me.

  “Nope,” I admit with a smirk.

  “You’re lucky you’re so adorable,” he tells me, smirking back wickedly before tweaking my nose, making me jerk my irritated face away from him.

  “I didn’t even think about this one,” Helena says as she quickly switches cameras again. “It’s like he’s so bored that he’s irritating you,” she says excitedly.

  “He is!” I cry out indignantly, making everybody laugh. After that, only a few more shots are taken before we’re sent back to hair and makeup. Lucky Brayden, he only needs to change his clothes and maybe get his hair ruffled. None of my other looks require this much makeup, so they wipe it all off with a surprisingly effective cloth. Normally at home, even though I don’t wear much, it’s a pain to take off my makeup. My face is always left red and sore.

  My next look is apparently the only one that Brayden’s not posing with me for, which makes me about ten times more nervous than I was. Tally, the girl in charge of my wardrobe, says that we’re going hippie-chic. They dress me in a yellow dress with three-quarter sleeves, brown tights, a dark cyan-colored shoe, and a headband that’s wrapped around my forehead. My hair is now in waves, which is shocking to me since I’ve never been able to curl my hair and then do something else to it without washing and blow-drying it in between. I’ve hardly got any makeup on—only mascara and some cover-up.

  On the set, I stand there kind of awkwardly until I hear Brayden cracking up off to the side. I shoot him a glare, effectively quieting him. Helena just looks at me kind of expectantly. “Uh, I’m not sure how to act like a hippie,” I confess.

  “Oh, you’re not a hippie at all!” She exclaims, “You’re a free-spirited youth who believes there need to be political changes,” she informs me seriously, making me burst out laughing. Aren’t they the same thing?

  “Anna, just chill. Play around with it,” Brayden advises softly.

  I don’t know how or why, but it works. Suddenly, I’m able to feel just like I did when Brayden and I were dancing at the banquet. I don’t care what everybody thinks of me, I’m just relaxed and moving into whatever position Helena tells me to.

  Our next look is a day date theme. My hair is pulled up into a high, loose bun. The makeup artist put a little blush on my cheeks and a bit of lip gloss on my lips before sending me to wardrobe. Tally put me in a pair of dark skinny jeans, brown booties, and a vintage-esque cream tank top with a strap of beads hanging down across the top.

  Brayden is in a pair of jeans with a white button-down short-sleeved shirt on. He looks amazing. At one point, we have to act like we’re walking down the sidewalk, which is harder than you’d think. Another time, we’re at a coffee shop, which wasn’t as fun for me since most of my days are spent at one. Our last scene is us having a picnic with our puppy. Rascal is the cutest little yellow Lab I’ve ever seen and, if Mom wasn’t so allergic to dogs, I’d take him home with me. This scene is more natural than the other ones, since it’s easy to just be ourselves as we fawn over a puppy.

  Our last shoot is a night club. They even play music for us to dance to. It’s incredibly awkward at first since I’m constantly pulling down my blue and black bodycon dress. Who gives a fat girl something that hugs her entire body? Not to mention the fishnet tights or the crazy high heels. I almost feel a bit slutty when my hair and makeup are added to the mix. Latisha swept some black shadow over my eyes and added the darkest lipstick I’ve ever seen to my lips. Kelly added extensions to my hair, making it appear to reach my hips.

  Then there’s the way that Brayden insists on dancing. We’re practically having sex with clothes on, and he is totally enjoying it. Not only the dancing, but my humiliation as well. What a great boyfriend. This is one scene where I really don’t loosen up over time. It is so nerve-racking for me to be watched by a bunch of people while Brayden is trying to grind on me.

  At last, Helena’s finished and we get to go change. In the dressing room, I’m shocked when Tally reminds me to grab one of the items. “What?” I ask, confused.

  “It’s Helena’s way of thanking the models, beyond just paying them,” she explains.

  “Pay?” I echo. Money hadn’t even entered my mind.

  She laughs. “She’s Helena R. Fuentes. Did you really expect her not to pay you for your time?”

  I shake my head, “I hadn’t thought about it, actually.” I admit.

  Looking at the clothes, I decide to take the shirt from the third shoot. I love it. Brayden’s waiting for me outside the dressing rooms, looking as happy as ever. We hold hands as we make our way over to the large computers, where Helena’s crouched down with reading glasses as she looks at our pictures.

  “Excuse me,” I say softly, not wanting to interrupt.

  “Oh, you two, come look!” she exclaims, stepping aside for us to see. I’m astonished at how they turned out. She’s quite the artist. I don’t even look overweight at all. In fact, I might even look pretty. Brayden looks like a god in every picture he’s in, which isn’t a surprise.

  Suddenly four images pop up on the screen and I gasp. From the first shoot, they’re using the one of me when I initially leaned forward without realizing it. It turned out really well. From my hippie one, they’re using a picture I hadn’t even realized she’d taken. At one point, Brayden had made me laugh by talking in a whispery voice off camera and saying “I am Summer Shine and world peace is my destiny,” as he casually moved the imaginary locks from his face and waved a peace sign. Smiling, with my head tilted to the side, I had returned the gesture.

  Next is our park photo, where Rascal is trying to lick my face. My nose and eyes are scrunched together but I’m still smiling widely. Brayden’s looking at me and the dog with a really serene expression on his face, like he’s having the best day ever.

  From our last shoot, there’s a surprisingly good image of us, where we’re looking deep in each other’s eyes, our lips only inches apart. Brayden had grabbed my hips and pulled me toward him so quickly that I could only grasp his shoulders and look up to see what he was doing.

  “Holy crap,” I finally murmured, still surprised at how well they turned out.

  “You’ll be able to see them in the February issue of Lady magazine. Here you go,” she says, handing me a slip of paper. I, completely confused, look down to see that it’s a check, with a few too many zeros after it. When I gasp, I end up choking on my spit (something that happens far too often) while handing their checks.

  We try giving it back, but apparently that’s bad business behavior since she just shooed us away. In the truck, I’m still staring at the money. I’ve never seen a check for this much.

  “I can’t believe you just made three thousand dollars,” Brayden says, chuckling.

  “You mean we made three thousand dollars,” I correct.

  “No, I mean you. You’re the one who did all the work,” he says.

  “I didn’t do anything. This money is both of ours,” I argue.

  “Anna, I don’t
want the money.”

  “Well then neither do I, if you’re not taking half,” I tell him.

  “Don’t be stupid.”

  “I’m not being stupid! You worked just as hard as I did. In fact, we wouldn’t even have been there today if you hadn’t convinced me,” I say.

  “I want you to have the money,” he says softly.

  “And I don’t want it without you. It’s not fair and I’ll always feel guilty for it,” I tell him in the same tone.

  “Why are you so stubborn?” he whines, clearly giving in.

  I cheer. “Thank you!” Then I carefully hug him, making sure I don’t bump the hand on the wheel.

  Chapter Twenty

  Which Side Are You On?

  It’s been a few weeks since Brayden and I modeled for Helena and things have been going better than I ever imagined they would. As often as he can, Brayden meets me at work and I take my break with him. We spend nearly every weekend together, unless we’re working opposite shifts. Brayden’s apartment finally got cleared, so we spend most of our time there.

  For some idiotic reason, at the beginning of the year, Ro convinced me to join the dance committee at school, which is in charge of putting on the winter formal. It had something to do with Sam being on it too and I was supposed to grow a tremendous amount from it. Blah blah blah.

  Unfortunately, and I know this from experience with the homecoming dance, Sam just gives me this pathetic look every time he sees me and it irritates me. Hopefully he won’t do that anymore now that I told him off. He’s been avoiding me in classes, which I don’t mind.

  Anyway, the winter formal is coming up and I have to help with it. I hate helping with those kinds of things, but I somehow always manage to get roped into everything. Like right now, I’m crouched down in the middle of the gym, surrounded by boxes. Why do people enjoy hiding everything I need? It seems like this happens to me all the time—I need something, so clearly it won’t be easy to find. Does the dance even need glittered snowflakes to hang from the ceiling? Really?