Arranged

  A man in a button-up shirt and glasses hugs Grace and they kiss each other’s cheek. Grace greets the makeup artists and finally turns to introduce me. I put on my best pretend-not-to-be-nervous smile. Grace points to the glasses-man.

  “Rose, this is Ferdinand, our mastermind for the shoot today and chief photographer. Ferdinand, this is Rose.”

  “Hi,” I shake his hand. “The setup you have here is beautiful.”

  “It’s an American beauty, the boardwalk.” His accent is thickly Spanish. “But we want to keep the color scheme chilly. Desolate. A little hopeless, you know?”

  “Exactly,” I agree, though inside I have no idea what he’s saying. He reaches for my chin.

  “If you don’t mind,” He says. I let him tilt my face this way and that. “You have a very nice silhouette. Grace often brings friends, but with you, perhaps we can –” He trails off and snaps his fingers. “Bianca!”

  A woman with a tight bun and beautiful green eyes saunters up. She wears a tie-dye dress. Ferdinand says something in Spanish to her, and then looks to me.

  “Bianca will help you try on a few pieces. If it’s alright.”

  “Sure.” I nod. Bianca steers me by the shoulders to the changing rooms. Grace has already changed into a dark orange shirt with gold stitching and short black pants. She gives me a thumbs up from the makeup chair, where an over-tanned man brushes her cheeks with blush. In a single practiced motion, Bianca hands me a soft lavender shirt stitched with metallic blue patterns. It’s gorgeous, and I have to fight against making a stunned noise. I step behind the screens and undress, pulling it over my head. It’s pure silk – so smooth against my skin I gasp.

  Bianca motions for me to come out and undoes a few buttons from the shirt. She rolls one sleeve up, eyes me for a second, and then calls out.

  “Ferdinand!”

  Ferdinand comes over and looks me up and down before clapping his hands.

  “I think we can use you for a few shots.”

  “I don’t know anything about modeling, though –”

  “That’s why I’m here!” He laughs. “You think I merely take pictures? No, I direct the model’s every look and movement. Let me experiment with you, yes? If it works it works, if it doesn’t, it doesn’t.”

  “Okay. If you’re sure.”

  “I am always sure, love. Now get to makeup, Ricardo will know what to do with you.”

  Ricardo has gentle hands and works wonders – I watch my face go from plain to amazing in a few minutes. My eyes are smoky and my lips are lightly glossed. My acne scars from high school are completely hidden by foundation. I look incredible. He brushes my hair, working in some foam to make it glossy and then pulling it into a high ponytail.

  Grace is the true professional – she makes languid poses in the sand and stretches sensuously. I try to memorize her movements but I know they’ll look stupid on me. She makes it look so easy. Ferdinand praises her and tells her to move a limb or give the camera a ‘darker’ look. I suddenly get nervous. I have no right to be here. I don’t even know what I’m –

  “Rose!” Ferdinand barks. “You’re up! Come here and drape yourself over Grace’s legs.”

  I skitter in the sand and Grace laughs, motioning to her calves.

  “Here. Lie on your side. Upside down a little. There you go.”

  “But what about my face?” I whimper.

  “Pretend the camera is someone you like,” She murmurs. “It usually works for me.”

  Lee. That’s who I think of, instantly. But I don’t know what I feel towards him. He’s handsome but too forward, and at the same time, has a soft vulnerability and mystery I want to see more of. The camera flashes and Ferdinand orders us in different positions.

  “More feeling, Rose! Are you a stone or a person?”

  ‘Someone you like,’ Grace mouths. I nod and think harder, let my face reflect my thoughts. I don’t like Lee, I think. But there’s something under his playboy wall, a person I’ve caught glimpses of, that I like better. There’s someone more real than the guy trying to get me to marry him for the money under it all. But he would never like someone like me – inexperienced, childish, argumentative. I’ve insulted him and called him names and cried, twice, in front of him. I’ve shown him weak, horrible sides of me. But I still want to get to know him better. Grandpa’s letter said he thought Lee was a good guy – and Grandpa was never wrong about those kinds of things.

  When the shoot wraps up, the sun is already setting. Grace and I thank everyone profusely and help clean up the trash. When we’re walking to the Lexus that’s returned, Bianca catches up to me. She taps me on the shoulder. There, in her hand, is one of the outfits – a stunning blue dress with sequins and layered silk sleeves.

  “For you,” She says.

  “M-Me? Jesus, I can’t –”

  “It looks best on you.” Her eyes are set and determined. I take the dress slowly, reverently.

  “Thank you so much.”

  Bianca smiles and trots back to the pavilion. Grace laces her hand in mine and squeezes.

  “You did great today.”

  “I didn’t do anything, it was all you. Thanks for inviting me.”

  We settle in the car. It jerks forward, and I’m almost sad to leave the gorgeous beach behind. It’s like pulling away from a fairytale. We stop at the grocery store on the way home, Grace loading the basket up with ice cream and champagne to celebrate the shoot. When we get back, the apartment is quiet. Jen’s left a note that says she won’t be back till ten because of band practice. Grace sighs and hands me a lightbulb she bought.

  “Lee’s lamp burnt out. Can you put that in his room?”

  I nod. Lee’s door is open, the room dark. I can’t find the light switch. I feel around for the desk and drop the bulb on it, but I trip over a pile of clothes and land on the bed. Someone’s in it. Before I can fully panic and bolt, an arm laces around my waist and pulls me backwards, into a warm curve of muscle and flesh. A sleepy mumble rumbles over my ear. I go very still. Is Lee asleep? He mumbles something again and leans his face into my neck. My hairs stand on end and I make an embarrassing squeaking noise.

  “H-Hey,” I try, pulling at his arms. “Wake up.”

  He just pulls me tighter into him. I pinch his arm.

  “Seriously! Wake up!”

  I stop pinching when I realize if he does wake up and find us like this there’s no telling how he’ll use it to his advantage. I decide to wait it out. Soon his grip around my waist will relax, and I can wiggle free. It’s sort of nice, lying here with him. It’s warm. And his chest is comfortable.

  Wait, what am I thinking? This is the guy I caught running out on a girl he just slept with! This is the guy who stole a kiss from me without even asking! This is the guy who’s trying to get to know me just for the money. He’s no better than a gigolo.

  “Don’t,” His mutter reverberates deep in my ribcage, but he’s still asleep. I test my weight against his arm but his grip is solid. He smells like those spices again, and a deeper musk I can’t name.

  “Don’t go, Rose.” This mutter blurs with a sleeping sigh. My heart stutters and I feel my face go cold. Did he just say my name?

  “This is a trick.” I frown. “It has to be. Let me go! I know you’re awake!”

  The lights flicker on. Grace stands in the doorway, her expression amused.

  “He grabbed me!” I wiggle harder. “Help!”

  Grace laughs and with our combined strength we pull Lee’s arm off far enough for me to get free. Lee stirs, probably faking it. But the way he opens his eyes and sits up groggily tells another story entirely.

  “Rose? You –”

  “Don’t pretend you weren’t awake!” I interrupt him. “You grabbed me!”

  “I – wuh – what are you talking about?” He rubs his eyes with his fists like a little kid. “You look different. Even more beautiful.”

  I flush. “Don’t change the subject. You can’t fool me.”

&nbsp
; “Rose, he does this all the time.” Grace assures me. “He carries on entire conversations in his sleep, and sleepwalks a lot.”

  “But –”

  “Sorry if I did something wrong. I didn’t mean to.” He scratches his head. “How was the shoot?”

  “Great. Ferdinand loved Rose, just like I thought he would. When did Jen leave?” Grace asks.

  “Seven-ish.”

  She nods and heads back to the living room. Lee looks at me.

  “You look…really…wow. The professionals know what they’re doing.”

  “Right. It was just the professionals.”

  “No, but I mean - without make up you’re just as – agh. I’m digging myself into a hole, aren’t I? Look, you’re just pretty, okay? Right now. And other times too. All the time.”

  “I’m not falling for flattery.”

  “I’m not trying to flatter – damnit! Why don’t you believe anything I say?”

  “I’m not every other girl. I won’t fall for your fake charming persona –”

  Before I can understand what’s going on, my back’s against the wall, Lee’s hand hold both of mine above my head, and his hazel eyes burn into me.

  “You think this is fake?”

  “The happy smile you show everyone, the womanizing compliments – I can see through it. You’re sad. Under all of it, you’re sad –”

  “And what about you, ice princess?” He breathes in my ear. “Under all that studying and ambition, you’re lonely. You’re afraid of going through life without ever being really loved. I can see it, too.”

  I squirm under his grip.

  “Please,” His voice is muffled as he skims his lips along my jaw. “Let me show you how I feel. Just say the word and I’ll show you exactly how I feel about you.”

  The pit of my stomach curls and uncurls, and my skin buzzes with warmth. I can’t lose my cool here. Not like every other girl.

  “You can’t feel anything for me – you don’t even know me,” I murmur.

  “I know you. You just can’t remember.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He lets my hands go with a sigh, fingers lingering on my wrists. “You don’t remember at all, do you?”

  “Then tell me! What is it I don’t remember?”

  Lee’s hazel eyes are wounded. He smiles bitterly.

  “If I tell you, you’ll think I’m lying. You don’t trust me, obviously, so you have to remember on your own.” He shakes his head. “Nevermind. Just ignore me and move on. Find another guy you like, okay? A guy who isn’t ‘stupid’ or ‘perverted’ or ‘marrying you for the money’. I’ll be happy for you. I promise. Or I’ll try to be.”

  There’s a long quiet. He turns to go, but I grab his shirt.

  “Why? Why do you want the money so bad? For your dad? To help him out of his loan shark debt?”

  “If only I was that noble,” He snorts. “I’m not like you. I wouldn’t think about doing it for my family. Jen told me about the scholarship. And about how your family’s business has been struggling for a while. I know you well enough to know you’d give it to them at the drop of a hat.”

  His fingertips glance under my chin and he pulls it up to lock our gazes together.

  “I’d use the money to run. Somewhere far away, with no family. Start over in another country. And if I couldn’t have you with me, if by the end of the fake marriage you hated me, I’d find another girl to settle down with and try my hardest to forget you. It wouldn’t work. But I’d try, if only to make it hurt less.”

  He leans in and kisses me for the second time, and I don’t freeze up. He tastes like mint. I can feel every curve of his sharp jaw as it rests against mine. His tongue glances along my bottom lip as if begging for entrance and I don’t know what to do and it’s scaring me more than anything in the world, but some part of me tells me to relax and the second I do my lips part and he forces his way inside. My hands reach to fill my palms with something, anything, and lace in his hair and he wraps an arm around my back and pulls me into him and for a second I’m not me and Lee isn’t himself – we’re together, one person, one moment of heat and lips and all I can think is ‘this is a real kiss’. This is what I’ve been missing out on. It’s just lust. But it can’t be only lust when he pulls away and laughs softly into my collarbone, kissing it a few times and coming back up for another round. It can’t just be lust when my heart gives a tortured flutter at the way he gingerly brushes hair behind my ear. It takes all my willpower to break away.

  “You –”

  “Don’t say anything,” He murmurs. “Just let me walk away without saying anything. Let me have this memory as it is – perfect and whole. I’ll leave you alone, now. For good.”

  Lee pulls on a jacket and walks out. I hear the apartment’s front door close and sink down on the bed, touching my sore, bitten lips. Grace comes in.

  “Lee, did you – oh? Where’d he go?”

  “Out,” I mutter.

  “Are you alright? You look flushed.”

  “I’m fine. Thanks again for having me, and everything. I should get home.”

  “Okay.” Grace smiles. “I gave you my number, right? Call whenever you feel like it.”

  I leave her apartment, my steps light and almost unreal. The sky looks more blue than ever, and my blood thrums in my ears. I have no idea what went on in that room. It was a kiss. My first real kiss, with someone I barely know. Someone who burned my every nerve up in a blaze of white fire with his fingers and lips alone.

  I’m falling for it. He wants the money to run more than anything, and to get it he has to get me to marry him, and stay with him for three months. This is part of his plan, isn’t it? He doesn’t really like me. But all those wounded glances, those soft touches. Those can’t be fake.

  But they can be, a little voice in my head assures me. He’s slept with more girls than you’ve had friends. He can fake it.

  But I can’t fake it. This heat in my heart can’t be faked. Why do I like him as much as I do? I should hate him. But I couldn’t even push him off when we kissed.

  I go red just thinking about the kiss.

  I pull my coat around me tighter and step onto the west side of campus. Professor Cruz is walking across the quad. She smiles when we get closer.

  “Rose, good to see you. Having a good holiday, I hope?”

  “Yeah. Are you?”

  “Yes. My husband and I are staying at bed and breakfast in Napa Valley tomorrow.”

  “That’s really sweet.”

  Cruz looks at me over her glasses. “You know, Rose, you’re my best student. You’re a lot of my colleagues’ best student, too.”

  I start to thank her, but she holds her hand up.

  “This isn’t a compliment. It’s a fact. I know about your Mendez Scholarship. I know you’ve worked hard to keep it for two years now. I’m telling you this in confidence – I just got out of a board meeting. The association who gives the scholarship is redefining the terms. Next semester, it’s going to a student with a learning-challenged background. ADD, ADHD, Aspergers’ and the like.”

  “But, I –”

  “It takes effect next semester, so, right around the tenth of January. I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you this sooner than the official papers, in case you needed to look for other options.”

  All the joy Lee’s kiss gave me drains away. “I do. Thanks. I’ll…I’ll try to find something.”

  “Again, I’m so sorry. I wish school wasn’t like this, really.”

  “No, it’s fine.” It’s not fine. I force a smile. “Have a great vacation.”

  “You too.” She pats me on the shoulder.

  I head to the parking lot, my head buzzing with pressure. Not my scholarship. Anything but that. I’d been applying for other scholarships, smaller ones, and got those, but the Mendez is the one that gives me the biggest chunk of change. And now it’s going away. I get in the car and sit there for what feels like forever, watching the sun spill gold
on the trees and lawn as it goes down. I open the car door every once in a while and lean over to make sure the nausea wave doesn’t make me throw up and ruin the car floor. My bakery. My degree. It’s all fading in front of me. What will I do? Drop out and go back to Mom and Dad’s? Work for them? But their company is failing, too. If I don’t have enough to go to school, there’s no way I’ll ever have enough to open a bakery. All the credits I worked so hard to ace – will they just go to waste?

  I drive home in a state of shock, my fingers numb on the wheel. Mom’s on the couch, sobbing, but when I come in she wipes her eyes and puts on a smile. She asks if I had fun. When I ask her what’s wrong, she waves it off. She says Dad’s at the office and that she’ll be in charge of dinner tonight. I knock on Riley’s door.

  “Hey!” He answers it in a rock t-shirt and boxers, his videogame blaring on the TV behind him. “Look who returns at last!”

  I sit on his bed. “What happened with Mom? She’s crying.”

  Riley frowns. “They had a fight. A loud one. I dunno, I just put my earphones in and tried to ignore them.”

  “Was it about the company?”

  Riley nods. I shuffle my feet against the carpet, trying to find a grip in the floor so the anger and frustration and tears won’t make me float away. I have to stay in the moment. I can’t tell them about the scholarship. Not now. I can’t tell anyone, anything, or they’ll just worry more. I’ll just make it worse.

  “Hey, you okay?” Riley asks. I nod, my lip quivering. He reaches out and awkwardly hugs me, and I hug him back. It hits me just then how much more mature he’s gotten – taller, broader. His baby fat cheeks are gone. He’s growing up, and so am I, but the thought terrifies me. Will he be okay? I want to be secure enough to help him if he ever needs it. I don’t want him to be like me, working so hard he misses out on fun things. When I’ve calmed down enough, I sit up and take deep breaths.