“Dirty?” He winked and added, “I think I can handle that.”
* * *
Thanks to Xander’s help, I was fully rested Saturday morning when the doorbell rang. We’d finished making every wig and prop I needed for the photo shoot, no all-nighter required. I scarfed down my last bite of toast, slid out of the breakfast nook, and hurried to let the boys inside. Xander warned me that they might be late, but a glance at my phone revealed it was eight o’clock on the dot.
Perfect, I thought as I made my way down the front hall. I would need at least five hours to transform all four of them.
But when I answered the front door, it wasn’t Xander or any ofthe other Heartbreakers. Instead, a girl who looked around my age stood on the front porch with a camera bag slung over her shoulder. She wore beat-up Chucks, a pair of faded jeans, and a tour T-shirt for a band called the Sensible Grenade. A small strip of her brown hair was dyed aqua, and a diamond stud sparkled in her nose.
“Hey,” she said, offering me her hand. “You must be Indie. I’m Stella, Oliver’s girlfriend.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said as we shook. Then I peered around her. “So, ah…is it just you or…?”
“Oh, no. The guys are here. They’re just being their usual immature selves.” She jammed a thumb over her shoulder at something out of view. I stepped onto the porch to see what she was pointing at.
The Heartbreakers were in various stages of exiting a black Range Rover: Oliver looked like he was unbuckling his seat belt; Xander had the driver’s side door pushed open, his hand still on the handle; and JJ was in the process of stepping out of the SUV, one leg in and the other out, his left foot planted securely on the driveway. What caught my attention was that none of the boys were moving. It was as if they’d been frozen in motion.
“What’s going on?” I asked Stella, narrowing my eyes at the strange scene. Only then did I notice that Oliver, JJ, and Xanderweremoving, although at what appeared to be a snail’s pace.
“They’re slow racing.” Her eyes flicked heavenward, and she added, “Whoever gets out of the car the last wins, but they can’t just sit there. They have to be in motion the entire time. And before you ask me why, the answer is I have no clue. They’re weirdos. I’ve given up trying to understand them.”
“Sounds like fun,” I said, the corners of my lips rising. “Where’re Alec and Felicity?”
“Oliver said something about Felicity having an early shift this morning,” she explained. “I think she works at a diner? Alec picked her up when she got off. They’re only thirty minutes behind us.”
At that moment, Xander noticed me standing on the porch. His face lit up, and he instantly dropped out of the race, climbing from the car at a regular speed. He strode up the front walk and joined us.
“Hey,” he said, his voice bright. “Long time no see.”
I rolled my eyes—we’d seen each other less than eight hours ago—but couldn’t deny him a smile. “Hey to you too.”
Yesterday, after we finished everything I needed to get done for my portfolio, Xander and I watched the first threePirates of the Caribbeanmovies. I’d wanted to have aSawmarathon instead, but Xander argued he needed to get into character. In the end, I didn’t care what we watched. I was just glad I didn’t have to spend another Friday night by my lonesome. We made burrito bowls for dinner—minus cheese and sour cream for Xander—and he ended up staying well past midnight.
“So I don’t know if Xander’s told you anything about me,” Stella said then, fiddling with her nose piercing, “but I’m studying photography at school. If you’d like, I can take the pictures for your portfolio today. I have all my equipment with me.”
Xander snorted. “You say that as if you don’t always have your equipment with you.”
“I’d love that,” I told Stella. My artistic abilities did not extend to photography. I could have the world’s best camera, and someonewith an old cell phone would take a better photo than me, so I was grateful for and relieved by her offer.
“Awesome,” she said, the trace of apprehension melting from her face. “I was thinking I could get a shot of each of the boys pre-makeup, some of you working, and then as many as you’d like at the festival.”
“That sounds perfect. Do you guys want to come in? I have breakfast for everyone.” I gestured at the open door and then glanced back at the SUV. Oliver and JJ were still locked in their slow race. “Are we leaving them or…?”
Stella laughed as she stepped inside. “Don’t bother. They’ll be at it for a while.”
* * *
“What in the hell is that?” JJ asked, eyes wide. He sat with his back to a mirror on the salon chair borrowed from my sister’s dressing room, knuckles white as he gripped the hem of his shorts. Before the band arrived this morning, I’d set up a small makeup studio in one of the guest bathrooms where I’d have plenty of room to do my work.
“This?” I glanced at the small metal tool in my hand. “It’s an eyelash curler. I need to curl your lashes before I apply the false ones.”
“Nope.” He scrambled out of the seat and shook his head. “There’s no way you’re coming near my face with that thing. It looks like a medieval torture device.”
Stella laughed as she snapped a picture of JJ. “He does have a point. I’ve always thought they look scary, especially when you hold it right up to your eye.” When I shot her a not-helping look,she quickly added, “But don’t worry, JJ. I’m sure Indie knows what she’s doing. You won’t feel a thing.”
JJ took a step back. “No offense, but that wasn’t very convincing.”
Drawing in a deep breath, I willed myself to stay patient.
