After John left, I spent about 20 minutes pacing back and forth in my kitchen, trying to calm my sudden anxiety. I really had no choice but to accompany him—well, if I wanted him to fund my line, that was. My stomach twisted at the idea of attending such a public event. I'd only been in Spring, Arizona, for a couple months now, when many people left for their vacations. So any time I'd gone with John, it had been a pretty casual affair.
This seemed like a very different event. I mean, really, what were the odds that he was that popular with the women of Spring? I wasn't sure how comfortable I was with the idea of acting as some sort of female battering ram for John. Unless these women were absolute bitches, it seemed a little needlessly cruel.
But I had no other option for now. If it became uncomfortable, I'd discuss it with John. He was reasonable.
I spent the rest of the afternoon editing, trying to plow through as many photos from the previous week as I could. The stash of ready-to-post photos I had on my phone was getting perilously low. No photos meant no social engagement, which meant no Wanderlust account, and thus no life as a clothing designer.
Evening rolled around faster than I had expected. I was soon grabbing my equipment to head out for the only shoot of the day I would actually enjoy. Throwing my stuff into the car, I sped off in excitement, eager to visit a lake I'd discovered recently while out driving. Today was the perfect day to shoot there.
My favorite time for photography was the "golden hour," the immediate hour after sunrise and before sunset, when the sun hovered just above the horizon. In that special hour, the sun produced a golden light, softening everything to a beautiful glow—but only on days with clear, sunny skies.
The effect was stunning, the perfect time not only for breathtaking landscapes, but also portrait photography. The special light never failed to soften subjects; my best photos were snapped during this time of the day.
Today's weather had created ideal conditions. I'd been saving the lake for a day like today. I nearly squealed in excitement as I pulled into the parking lot.
My suspicion proved correct; golden light flared through the tree line, the light reflected upon the mirrored surface of the lake. The entire body of water seemed to glow. I stared in awe as a heron swooped over the water and dove. I whipped out my camera, pulling it up to my face in time to snap a shot as the bird shot out of the water, a fish in its beak.
I took a few ambient shots to adjust my settings to the available light, then screwed my camera into my trusty tripod and placed it facing the lake. More than anything I wanted to spend the next hour exploring, but my responsible nature had me shooting myself first.
I played around until I finally had the photo I had been waiting days to capture. The camera shot me from behind as I stared at the lake, a hand nestled in my tousled hair as a soft breeze blew it over my shoulder. I'd timed it just as the sun flared across the screen, creating a truly unique shot that I instantly loved.
Usually, I tried to make my evening sessions more creative, since previous shoots during the day were all about seductiveness and silliness. Before I'd moved to Spring, my golden hour sessions had typically been post-sunrise, but that had pretty much gone out the window once Jared started hanging around.
But even in the evening, these shoots were magical. When everything became golden and perfect, my life always seemed so possible. Like I really could achieve anything I wanted and was more than just the high-school dropout forced to take pictures of her pretty body for random strangers to drool over. A feeling I felt less and less often these days.
I spent the rest of the hour exploring the lake, shooting as much as I could before the sun slipped below the horizon and the spell was broken. By the time I finally climbed back into my car, I felt more content than in a long time. I'd just discovered my new favorite place. I already couldn't wait to return.
My stomach growled and I realized that in my excitement to reach the lake, I'd forgotten to eat dinner. I had no desire to prepare the brown rice and vegetables I usually consumed in the evening. I hunted around in my purse until I found a protein bar, which really had an unacceptable amount of sugar, but I ate it anyway. I deserved a treat after such a successful shoot.
My happiness died the moment I returned home to find cars littered across my yard. I glanced over at Travis' house, and yep, there were cars parked on his lawn too. I counted them all, swearing when I realized there were even more than the night before.
When John had said that his son would see me presently, it had never occurred to me he meant in literally a few hours! Some naive little part of me had clearly thought that I would have the rest of the weekend to myself. Apparently, I'd massively underestimated Jared.
I glanced over at Travis' house again. His truck wasn't there. I secretly had begun to enjoy our little war, but I really didn't want to break our fragile peace. I hadn't seen any sign of him since that morning. Not that I had been looking. Now I was suddenly glad he wasn't home; maybe I could get everyone out of here before he returned. No harm, no foul.
I was forced to park my own car far down the road, since they'd already taken up all of the available space in both my yard and Travis'. As I walked closer, I heard thumping bass and shouting from my backyard. How had they gotten into my house?
Dropping my equipment upstairs in my office, I made sure to lock the door as I hurried down to the ground floor, wracking my brain for any sort of excuse I could give to get them to leave. They all lounged around the pool, drinks in hand, laughing as someone pushed someone else in the water, spilling beer in the pool. Aaaaand there was my first mess of the evening.
Jared held court over by my patio furniture, where he always set up his "DJ station," his head bopping out of time with the crappy dubstep trash he was forcing us all to "experience." God, I hated dubstep. And I'd eat my own neon pink bikini from this afternoon's shoot if I turned out to be wrong that this drivel wasn't his own creation.
I wasn't drunk enough for this. I'd never be drunk enough for this.
Jared spotted me within seconds. He pressed whatever it was on his equipment so it would play automatically—and probably better than he could ever manage himself—then joined me on the other side of the yard.
"Hey, baby! Your electricity is working. My dad told me it was fixed. Isn't that chill?"
Yeah. Chill. So chill I wished I were an icicle, so I could stab those wandering hands of his and maybe then he'd finally leave me alone.
"Yeah, looks like it's working now. Your dad wishes you well, by the way."
"Yeah, man. It's chill. You want a drink?"
"I'm good, thanks." I never drank at these parties, not that they ever noticed. "So how long have you been here?"
"Couple hours. I dunno. The sun was setting."
"How'd you get in?"
"Oh, the, uh, garage was unlocked. We let ourselves in."
Shit, had I left the garage unlocked? I'd have to kill that habit immediately and forever. Any sort of wild animal could find its way in, otherwise, as evidenced by the creature before me. I squashed such uncharitable thoughts and took a deep breath, hoping just once that I'd have some luck and would be able to get these goons off my property before Travis returned.
"Well, I was hoping for some alone-time tonight. I hadn't anticipated the electricity to return and the house isn't ready for visitors."
"Psh. The house is, like, super clean. Don't worry about it. Now we can party!"
Didn't this guy ever get tired of partying? He had to be at least 30. Gross. I tried again. "Well, look. What I'm trying to say is that I want to be alone tonight. Okay? Like I said, I need more sleep. I'll see you guys on Wednesday when I have that day party I told you about."
Jared stared at me like the concept of being alone was truly unfathomable to him. "You want to be alone. Like, by yourself? On a Saturday? It's Saturday, baby! Have a drink and relax. You'll have fun."
I suspected I really wouldn't.
"I said—"
"Give it a rest, baby. Let's party and have some fun. My dad said you wouldn't mind."
So this was because of his father. Apparently, even though he didn't even like his kid, I was still expected to entertain him if I had any intention of continuing our arrangement. Wonderful. I sighed and headed back inside, searching for my cleaning supplies and steeling myself for the inevitable confrontation that would occur once my sinfully attractive neighbor returned.
After John left, I spent about 20 minutes pacing back and forth in my kitchen, trying to calm my sudden anxiety. I really had no choice but to accompany him—well, if I wanted him to fund my line, that was. My stomach twisted at the idea of attending such a public event. I'd only been in Spring, Arizona, for a couple months now, when many people left for their vacations. So any time I'd gone with John, it had been a pretty casual affair.
This seemed like a very different event. I mean, really, what were the odds that he was that popular with the women of Spring? I wasn't sure how comfortable I was with the idea of acting as some sort of female battering ram for John. Unless these women were absolute bitches, it seemed a little needlessly cruel.
But I had no other option for now. If it became uncomfortable, I'd discuss it with John. He was reasonable.
I spent the rest of the afternoon editing, trying to plow through as many photos from the previous week as I could. The stash of ready-to-post photos I had on my phone was getting perilously low. No photos meant no social engagement, which meant no Wanderlust account, and thus no life as a clothing designer.
Evening rolled around faster than I had expected. I was soon grabbing my equipment to head out for the only shoot of the day I would actually enjoy. Throwing my stuff into the car, I sped off in excitement, eager to visit a lake I'd discovered recently while out driving. Today was the perfect day to shoot there.
My favorite time for photography was the "golden hour," the immediate hour after sunrise and before sunset, when the sun hovered just above the horizon. In that special hour, the sun produced a golden light, softening everything to a beautiful glow—but only on days with clear, sunny skies.
The effect was stunning, the perfect time not only for breathtaking landscapes, but also portrait photography. The special light never failed to soften subjects; my best photos were snapped during this time of the day.
Today's weather had created ideal conditions. I'd been saving the lake for a day like today. I nearly squealed in excitement as I pulled into the parking lot.
My suspicion proved correct; golden light flared through the tree line, the light reflected upon the mirrored surface of the lake. The entire body of water seemed to glow. I stared in awe as a heron swooped over the water and dove. I whipped out my camera, pulling it up to my face in time to snap a shot as the bird shot out of the water, a fish in its beak.
I took a few ambient shots to adjust my settings to the available light, then screwed my camera into my trusty tripod and placed it facing the lake. More than anything I wanted to spend the next hour exploring, but my responsible nature had me shooting myself first.
I played around until I finally had the photo I had been waiting days to capture. The camera shot me from behind as I stared at the lake, a hand nestled in my tousled hair as a soft breeze blew it over my shoulder. I'd timed it just as the sun flared across the screen, creating a truly unique shot that I instantly loved.
Usually, I tried to make my evening sessions more creative, since previous shoots during the day were all about seductiveness and silliness. Before I'd moved to Spring, my golden hour sessions had typically been post-sunrise, but that had pretty much gone out the window once Jared started hanging around.
But even in the evening, these shoots were magical. When everything became golden and perfect, my life always seemed so possible. Like I really could achieve anything I wanted and was more than just the high-school dropout forced to take pictures of her pretty body for random strangers to drool over. A feeling I felt less and less often these days.
I spent the rest of the hour exploring the lake, shooting as much as I could before the sun slipped below the horizon and the spell was broken. By the time I finally climbed back into my car, I felt more content than in a long time. I'd just discovered my new favorite place. I already couldn't wait to return.
My stomach growled and I realized that in my excitement to reach the lake, I'd forgotten to eat dinner. I had no desire to prepare the brown rice and vegetables I usually consumed in the evening. I hunted around in my purse until I found a protein bar, which really had an unacceptable amount of sugar, but I ate it anyway. I deserved a treat after such a successful shoot.
My happiness died the moment I returned home to find cars littered across my yard. I glanced over at Travis' house, and yep, there were cars parked on his lawn too. I counted them all, swearing when I realized there were even more than the night before.
When John had said that his son would see me presently, it had never occurred to me he meant in literally a few hours! Some naive little part of me had clearly thought that I would have the rest of the weekend to myself. Apparently, I'd massively underestimated Jared.
I glanced over at Travis' house again. His truck wasn't there. I secretly had begun to enjoy our little war, but I really didn't want to break our fragile peace. I hadn't seen any sign of him since that morning. Not that I had been looking. Now I was suddenly glad he wasn't home; maybe I could get everyone out of here before he returned. No harm, no foul.
I was forced to park my own car far down the road, since they'd already taken up all of the available space in both my yard and Travis'. As I walked closer, I heard thumping bass and shouting from my backyard. How had they gotten into my house?
Dropping my equipment upstairs in my office, I made sure to lock the door as I hurried down to the ground floor, wracking my brain for any sort of excuse I could give to get them to leave. They all lounged around the pool, drinks in hand, laughing as someone pushed someone else in the water, spilling beer in the pool. Aaaaand there was my first mess of the evening.
Jared held court over by my patio furniture, where he always set up his "DJ station," his head bopping out of time with the crappy dubstep trash he was forcing us all to "experience." God, I hated dubstep. And I'd eat my own neon pink bikini from this afternoon's shoot if I turned out to be wrong that this drivel wasn't his own creation.
I wasn't drunk enough for this. I'd never be drunk enough for this.
Jared spotted me within seconds. He pressed whatever it was on his equipment so it would play automatically—and probably better than he could ever manage himself—then joined me on the other side of the yard.
"Hey, baby! Your electricity is working. My dad told me it was fixed. Isn't that chill?"
Yeah. Chill. So chill I wished I were an icicle, so I could stab those wandering hands of his and maybe then he'd finally leave me alone.
"Yeah, looks like it's working now. Your dad wishes you well, by the way."
"Yeah, man. It's chill. You want a drink?"
"I'm good, thanks." I never drank at these parties, not that they ever noticed. "So how long have you been here?"
"Couple hours. I dunno. The sun was setting."
"How'd you get in?"
"Oh, the, uh, garage was unlocked. We let ourselves in."
Shit, had I left the garage unlocked? I'd have to kill that habit immediately and forever. Any sort of wild animal could find its way in, otherwise, as evidenced by the creature before me. I squashed such uncharitable thoughts and took a deep breath, hoping just once that I'd have some luck and would be able to get these goons off my property before Travis returned.
"Well, I was hoping for some alone-time tonight. I hadn't anticipated the electricity to return and the house isn't ready for visitors."
"Psh. The house is, like, super clean. Don't worry about it. Now we can party!"
Didn't this guy ever get tired of partying? He had to be at least 30. Gross. I tried again. "Well, look. What I'm trying to say is that I want to be alone tonight. Okay? Like I said, I need more sleep. I'll see you guys on Wednesday when I have that day party I told you about."
Jared stared at me like the concept of being alone was truly unfathomable to him. "You want to be alone. Like, by yourself? On a Saturday? It's Saturday, baby! Have a drink and relax. You'll have fun."
I suspected I really wouldn't.
"I said—"
"Give it a rest, baby. Let's party and have some fun. My dad said you wouldn't mind."
So this was because of his father. Apparently, even though he didn't even like his kid, I was still expected to entertain him if I had any intention of continuing our arrangement. Wonderful. I sighed and headed back inside, searching for my cleaning supplies and steeling myself for the inevitable confrontation that would occur once my sinfully attractive neighbor returned.
