Junior Year, 93-94. Megan B. March
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“when does James leave?” She took a sip of mocha.
“Next week,” Alicia replied in a soft voice.
“And your fiancé leaves on Friday?” Aria asked, with a little too much emphasis on fiancé.
“Yes, Jensen leaves on Friday. It feels weird to refer to him as my fiancé.”
“Well, you two are engaged, aren’t you? That’s what you should call each other.” Hmmm … Aria’s still upset about the news, I guess.
“I’m sure the word boyfriend or girlfriend is just fine,” Nate countered. Aria gave him a pointed look and he shrugged and then focused on his mocha.
“What classes are you taking, Aria?” Alicia tried moving the conversation away from the current topic, which apparently worked because Aria chattered on about which subjects she had chosen, including a run-down of the teachers she hoped she ended up with.
After a semi-awkward time at Heritage, we all walked along Front Street and window-shopped at some of the stores. Thankfully, Aria was only able to stay for a half-hour before Nate took her home. We bid them goodbye and made our way over to where cruise ships docked twice a month and let passengers off to overrun shops and restaurants in the area. There we found a vacant bench, choosing to sit and bask in the remaining summer sun.
“What’s the deal with you and Aria?” Alicia asked. “You two haven’t been very close for a while.”
“Yeah, it dates back to freshmen year with Jack’s expulsion when he punched Kyle.” That was a name I tried to forget.
“She still blames you for that?”
“I guess.” I closed my eyes and leaned my head back.
“I think there’s more,” Alicia stated.
I opened my eyes and looked at her, waiting for an explanation. When it was obvious she wasn’t going to be forthcoming, I probed further and asked what she meant.
“Well, I would never tell Jensen this, but it seems like Nate still likes you. I think Aria knows it and she’s jealous. You didn’t see it because you were looking at me when they kissed at Heritage, but he did a quick sideways glance at you. Almost like he wanted to make sure you saw it. The whole thing was a little strange.”
“Shit. Thanks for not telling Jensen. He’s jealous enough as it is, even though I think he has an idea Nate still has feelings. If I had known then what I know now, I would have called bullshit on Jensen when he said he wasn't a jealous guy.”
“Well, he certainly has reason to be, doesn't he? It’s probably a good that you and Nate aren’t sharing a locker. That would likely create more drama than you need.”
“Yeah, you’re right about that," I agreed. Abandoning the topic, I continued, "Do you think you’ll get senioritis like so many seniors do? I’m freaked I’ll start slacking off and get it.”
“Nah, no one in my family seemed to get it. I’m not worried and you shouldn’t be, either. If you feel it coming on, let me know. I’ll kick your butt so you don’t mess up your grades.”
“You sure do take care of me, don’t you?” I said with a laugh.
Smiling, I sat upon the wooden bench and leaned my head back, feeling the sun on my face and thinking how nice it would be to stay there all afternoon. But then again, the sooner pictures were over with the sooner I’d get home and change to have movie night with my guy … and his friends. I tried not to think of his friends. Maybe Jensen would figure he’d spent enough time with them today and want only me tonight. I could only hope.
When it was time to go, we sprinted back to Alicia’s Prelude and buzzed back over to the school in quick time. Since registration was over, more parking was available and we were able to secure a space right across the street from the school. As we walked up to the front doors, Nate caught our attention by yelling at us to wait up. We stopped and turned to see him running bowlegged toward us. I hadn’t ever really seen Nate run and it was almost comical. I bit my lip to keep from laughing.
“Alright, let’s do this thing,” Nate said, assuming his normal pose with his arms around Alicia’s and my shoulders. This time we let him get away with it instead of squirming away. We were both much too excited to care.
Inside the makeshift dressing room, I looked in the mirror in front of me and adjusted the black smock, which was off-shoulder and sloped into a slight v-shape. Not sure if I wanted to show any cleavage or not, I probably spent more time than anyone else adjusting the smock every which way in order to see exactly how it would look in the yearbook. The amount of material didn’t really allow for much, so I finally gave up and pushed my bra straps down to make sure they didn’t show. A hair clip securely held my long bangs up and out of my face, and a few lazy curls fanned out across my chest. As ready as I’d ever be, I emerged to where the photographer stood and waited for him to tell me what to do.
“Any particular color you like?” he asked, taking my order sheet and looking briefly at it while his assistant pulled down a few backgrounds and did some test shots. I shrugged and told the photographer to use whatever he thought looked best.
The assistant led me over to a stool where I sat down. The young woman looked like she could be the photographer’s girlfriend. “May I?” she asked, regarding the smock.
“Sure,” I said, not hesitating.
She took the smock at the shoulders and lifted it slightly up. I must have had it too low. She then pulled back some of the hair I had carefully placed across my chest. “A little too much hair in front,” she said before winking at me and moving out of the frame.
The photographer stood to the side of the camera, lifted his hand and told me to give a big smile. I always hated taking pictures where you had to smile on command, and today was no different. My smiles always looked forced or fake. I tried to think of something funny so it would be somewhat real, and the only thing that popped into my head at that moment was Nate’s ambling run toward Alicia and me earlier.
“Great smile! Keep it there while we change the background color.” The photographer’s assistant was quick as she changed the background from white, to blue, and then finally to red as the photographer snapped away with each new background.
“Alright, go ahead and change out of that and back into your regular clothes and we’ll do your other pictures. It looks like you wanted blue, red, and the book background?” the assistant asked, looking at my form.
My mind seemed blank with what I chose, so I just nodded as I stood up from the chair and headed to the makeshift dressing room again where I was much quicker getting out of the smock than I was getting into it. Glad that I had chosen a button-up shirt, I carefully lifted the smock up and over my hair and replaced it with my silk shirt. My hair was still intact. I quickly tucked the shirt into my skirt and then pulled the sides out a little. Damn skirt was skin tight and showed every little thing underneath. Checking myself in the mirror to make sure the lines of my shirt couldn’t be seen, I came out of the changing room to a completely different scene. The stool I had sat on earlier was now in front of a little table with a mirror on it, and a fake rose-looking flower was next to the mirror. I raised my eyebrows slightly, not sure what I had signed up for with the props. The assistant saw my hesitancy and led me to the stool, explaining that they wanted me to lean over the mirror and clasp my fingers together with my chin resting on top of my hands. Hoping the picture wouldn't look stupid, I sat down and did as the assistant asked. Once I was in position, she slid the fake flower under my hands. I felt like the picture was a little cliché, but they’re the experts. Right?
“Just a little bit of your curls,” the assistant said, pulling one or two big, lazy curls over my right shoulder. The woman caught sight of my ring. “Wow, that’s a beautiful