“Yes.” I said as I opened the lunch my mom had packed, happy to find my favorite sandwich, cut into triangles. “My first shoot paid four digits. I got a new camera. I’ll have to save for college too.”
“Can anyone do it?”
“I think they pick by the job. Clothing type and all that. You can call the agency and see if you’re a fit. They probably have some jobs better suited for someone more muscular like you. Until Saturday I wouldn’t have thought I was a good fit. But James looks good on camera too. He’s bigger like you.” Teddy was fit, spent a lot of time running and working out, on the leaner side for a quarterback, it made him faster on the field.
“You make a pretty girl,” he said after a minute of studying me.
How did I reply to that? James had already told me to stay away from the football team. “Thanks, I think.”
I jotted down the agency info on a slip of notebook paper for him and handed it over. “I’m not sure how they pick models, but they might need a sporty guy like you before a stick like me.”
He took the paper and nodded. “Don’t let the Dick bug you. Hell, if I had to put on a dress to earn four digits in a day, I’d do it.” Teddy got up and waved to some of his friends, and he disappeared into the confines of the table the football team occupied.
“Teddy has the hots for you,” Jenny teased.
“No thanks,” I said, eating my sandwich and scrolling through my phone for lenses for my new camera.
Lucas entered the lunchroom, and I felt my stomach flip over. He didn’t glance in my direction. He made his way to a table of popular kids who seemed to run in the same circles he did. Katie greeted him with a smile and kissed him on the cheek.
I shoved my lunch back in my box, suddenly wishing I could eat in study hall or something. “Sorry,” I muttered to Jenny. “He was probably into you and I messed that up.”
“That boy wouldn’t have a chance with me anyway,” Jenny said. “I like nice boys. When I cornered Katie, she couldn’t even remember what they talked about. She’s back with Teddy.”
“Teddy seemed nice,” I added, packing up my stuff and thinking maybe I should go to class early. I had a test anyway. I stuffed everything away. “I’ll meet up with you later, okay?” It hurt to be in the same room as him. No one had told me how much that would hurt. I needed to get away.
“You okay?”
“No, but it’s fine.” It took every bit of willpower I had to leave the cafeteria, without seeking him out again.
The rest of the day passed painfully slow. James appeared before my final study hall to thank me for making him one of the most popular kids in school. Everyone wanted to know if I was going to be famous and move to France or something. What was in France that made people famous? Clothing designers?
No one mentioned the dressed-as-a-girl thing. And the one glance I’d dared at my social media indicated I had a lot of likes. I planned to bury myself in building a background set in study hall to keep my mind off all of it.
A study in aperture and focus. Small object negative and positive space. I needed the focus, and had a handful of items picked because they were plain rather than thought provoking. The idea was to invoke emotion based on light play rather than the actual object. I found the concept fascinating.
I was halfway through a short set with a stack of broken pencils when I heard the door open. Not many others used this room, but it was common for other photo geeks. I thought it was another camera nerd until a shadow fell across the backdrop changing the lighting and making me blink clear of my focus.
I glanced up to find Lucas standing behind me.
My heart skipped a beat.
“Can we talk?” he asked.
“Are you planning to beat me up?” It was probably not a good idea to be alone, sometimes I didn’t think ahead.
“Do I look like a guy who makes decisions with his fists?” he asked.
I stared at him a moment longer, trying to decide. No. He looked like a guy I had hoped to get to know better. He hopped up on the table behind us, crossing his legs at the ankle and hunching into his shoulders. I set my camera down, it was one of the school cameras borrowed from the media room, shoved my glasses up on my nose and leaned against the table. “How can I help you?”
“I’ve never been in here before.” He looked around. “I hear a lot of people talking about it. Some have asked to take pictures of me, but no one has followed through on actually inviting me for a shoot.”
“You get paid a lot to be photographed, why do it for free?”
“Because some see photos as art,” he said, his gaze intense. “I’m not artistic at all. More hard logic, math, and science.”
“So why are you here? You want me to take pictures of you?”
“You said you wanted us to be friends.”
