Don’t care what Joss thinks. The stern talk I had with myself earlier confirmed it. She might have gained some new power over the rhythm of my heart, but she’s still just Joss.
We’re besties. Nothing more.
As I walk up, Joss spots me first and waves with bothhands. “Damn, Ash! You look good!” she shouts across the distance between us.
Stupid thing in my chest responds uncomfortably to that—thump, thump, thump.
Hmm. Maybe carea littlewhat Joss thinks. Doesn’t matter, though. It will pass.
“You look better,” I say and stop beside Yayoi, who has her camera risen.
“And I look better than us all,” Ali says, winking.
The heat around us is tempered by a gentle wind and the scent of fresh flowers. In the distance, a family of sparrows lends us some background music.
Dark-haired Ali is clad in a knee-length black number that shows off her shoulders. Blonde Joss has on a white thing with a sheer lace overlay that teases the skin of her abdomen and back.
The effect is charming—opposite in some ways, similar in others.
“Eerie how their smiles are exactly the same, isn’t it?” Yayoi says as she snaps a few with the sisters sitting side by side in the grass.
I don’t know. Joss’s smile seems to contain a fair bit of mischief, while Ali’s is happily content. Speaks to their personalities more than anything, though. The two women share a silhouette, a general shape, but other than that, they couldn’t be more different.
After a few more poses, Yayoi announces she has what she needs, and the three of them scroll through the shots on the tiny camera screen, oohing and aahing.
“These are going to be great,” Ali says, and they all gush over one particular photo.
On the outskirts, I keep my hands in my pockets, the better to hide the telling clamminess going on there. I’ve beendreading this for days, but I can’t articulate why. I’m a bit jittery, like I’m heading into a surgery without knowing the steps. Stupid feeling. Just have to take some pictures. What’s so difficult about that?
“All right.” Yayoi turns to me in a whirl and rubs her palms together. “Your turn.”
Dread, pure and simple, washes over me.
Joss holds out her hand, grinning wickedly. Ah. I’ve come upon the most familiar version of Joss. Sassy Joss.
“Come on, lover,” she says.
Ick.
Don’t like that. She’s poking at these new secret desires I refuse to give credence. Feels a bit on the nose, even for the universe. But Sassy Joss is on a rampage. I grab her hand and let her lead me into the field of flowers. Golden afternoon sun shines behind us, highlighting her in an angel silhouette. This type of sunlight must be the most romantic or something because Yayoi wasveryspecific about the time.
Joss looks pretty in it. Heart-rending, yes, but pretty.
Yayoi holds up her camera, snapping a few shots while we stand side by side, two feet between us. “We’ll start with some warm-ups since you guys aren’t used to touching so much, okay?”
“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Joss murmurs.
“That’s what she said,” I reply out of habit.
Her laugh usually serves to loosen me up, but I can’t relieve the tension in my muscles. It pulls at my bones, making my movements awkward and wooden.
“Why don’t we start with some easy ones.” Yayoi points a little farther down the field. “Go over there, hold hands and just walk toward me, smiling at each other.”
We do as instructed. Joss’s tiny hand is stiff and swallowed by my clammy one. She grins up at me, clearly trying notto laugh. Even I can tell our smiles are goofy and our body language is weird.
The gnawing starts up in my gut.
Yayoi scrolls through the shots. “Jeez. Either you’re extremely un-photogenic or you guys have zero chemistry.”
