Jumping Puddles (15 page)

“MISS CHARLOTTE, THIS
is Carl from the security office.”

“I know the sound of your voice, Carl. Is he here?”

“I just let him through the gate.”

I let out a little squeal. “Thank you so much for letting me know.”

“You two have fun, Miss.”

I hang up the phone and run to the front door. Blake’s roommate slowly creeps past my building, stops the car, and backs up. Blake’s out of the car and walking toward me as soon as he spots me. Running, I jump into his arms, holding on tight. Pulling back slightly, I press my lips to his, and I’m rewarded with a soft moan. We need to take this show inside before someone calls the cops.

Blake grabs his bags from the car, waves to his roommate, and we close the door on the outside world. I made sure to stock up on food so we wouldn’t have a reason to leave for a few days.

“Let me show you around,” I say, pulling him into the living room. I give Blake the grand tour, saving the bedroom for last. I’m just about to open the door when I hear someone knocking on the front door.

“Ignore whoever it is, please,” Blake begs. We’re on the same page. Whoever is at the door can wait.

The knocking gets louder the more clothes we shed. Finally, it stops as we fall backward onto the bed. That’s when the banging on the ceiling begins.

Aubrey.

I’m going to kill her.

“Seriously. I can’t believe her. She knew you were coming home today.”

“I’ve gotta say, I’m not really liking this Aubrey chick so far.”

BANG. BANG. BANG.

“Let me turn on some music,” I suggest, pushing against his chest so I can get up.

The music drowns out Aubrey’s attempts to get my attention. I know she’ll give up eventually, but with as stubborn as she is, it may not be for a while. As soon as I’m wrapped in Blake’s arms, I don’t even notice anymore. The rest of the world disappears, and it’s only me and him. Nothing else matters. No amount of time has passed. It’s as if just yesterday we kissed for the first time. Everything is perfect.

Blake and I manage to avoid Aubrey for a few hours. As if she knew we were decent again, she knocks on the front door, hollering for me moments later to let her in. She must have heard the shower turn off or something. Her timing is always impeccable. It’s actually kind of scary.

After introductions are out of the way, Aubrey immediately starts in on me about ignoring Zach’s phone calls. He’s been calling me every few days since we all had dinner together, trying his best to convince me to give modeling a shot. He’s even offered to find me an agent if I don’t want to sign on with him. I’ve been giving it more thought after each conversation. Aubrey is harping on me, too, but not the same way Zach is. He’s talking me through things, and she’s attempting to guilt me.

I stopped taking his calls a few days ago. I knew Blake was coming home, and I haven’t told him anything about the situation yet. I figured we’d spend a few days together and talk about it. If I can get him to meet and talk with Zach, I’m hoping maybe he’ll see this might be a good opportunity for me. I haven’t committed to anything yet, but I want to. At least, I think I do. I don’t know. I’m hoping Blake will keep an open mind and help me make an informed decision. His opinion means a lot to me.

“I told you, I’m spending the rest of this week with Blake, and then we can discuss it again.” I give her a pleading look, motioning toward Blake with my eyes.

“I thought you told her you didn’t want to get involved with the modeling thing?”

I’ve been avoiding having this conversation with him. “It’s not that I do or don’t want to do it, you guys. I want to think about it some more.”

“You’re entertaining the idea still?” I can hear the shock in Blake’s voice.

“Can we please talk about something else?”

“No. I think we need to talk about this, in private,” he states, looking Aubrey dead in the eye. She gets the message loud and clear, letting herself out without a word.

“I can tell you’re mad. I haven’t committed to anything, just so you know. I was waiting to talk it out with you. Face to face.”

“Didn’t you hear anything I was telling you that night? You don’t want that lifestyle, Charlie. It’s not for you. Those girls, they tear each other apart. The drugs, the partying, it’ll destroy you.”

“Are you assuming I’d get mixed up in that? I wouldn’t. You, of all people, should know that.”

“You say that now, but you never know. One bad decision…” He shrugs.

“You make it sound like I’ve already made a bad decision.” I’m hollering at him, anger dripping from every word I speak.

“It sounds to me like you’re about to.”

“I already told you I haven’t committed to anything,” I reply with a huff. I need to get my anger in check or this is going to end badly.

“Then why does it matter if you’ve been avoiding calls from Aubrey’s manager?”

“Because he’s waiting for my answer. I told him I wanted to talk it over with you first.”

“So talk. Tell me why you think this is a good idea.”

Blake should know better than to challenge me. I straighten my back and start listing all the positive aspects of modeling. He listens, letting me speak my peace. Never once does his expression change. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even blink. Still as a statue, Blake waits patiently for me to finish. Once I’m done, I nod, letting him know it’s his turn.

“I don’t even know where to start. First of all, and I’m pretty sure we already covered this, you can’t guarantee you won’t get caught up in the lifestyle that so many of the models are dragged into. You can try, but you can’t promise you won’t so don’t.

“Second, I’m not sure who this Zach guy thinks he is, but he’s full of shit. He can’t promise you any amount of money. He can’t guarantee you any of those jobs. Every model starts at the bottom, working their way up as they prove themselves.

“Third, there’s a lot more to modeling than showing up and smiling. As a photographer, I would push you to give me emotion, to give me more than you thought you could possibly give. That’s just for one good shot. Think about how hard they’ll push you for an entire photo spread. Sure it gets easier once you figure out how to trigger the real emotions hidden deep down inside, but that comes in time. It doesn’t happen without hard work and dedication.

“Last, you can’t make this a part time gig, Charlie. It’s all or nothing. There’s no way you’ll be able to balance modeling, traveling, and school at the same time.” Pausing to catch his breath, Blake doesn’t give me but a moment to take in what he’s just said before he continues.

“Have you talked to Alice and Scott about this? Asked their opinion?” When I look away, he knows my answer. I’ve talked to them three or four times since first meeting Zach and failed to mention it to them. “I’m sure they wouldn’t like the idea any more than I do.”

“Stop!” I shout, cutting him off before he can continue talking to me like I’m a child. “It’s obvious you don’t like the idea. In fact, I’m pretty sure you hate it. You can stop breaking it down for me. I hear you loud and clear.”

Leaving Blake on the couch, I push the slider open and take a seat on the patio. I need fresh air. Maybe it’ll help to clear my thoughts. The only thing I can hear right now is Blake’s disapproval. His words, although truthful, were still a little harsh. He’s never been one to beat around the bush. He’s always told me the truth no matter what. I didn’t expect this situation to be any different, but I also didn’t think he would be
this
against everything. He may not be a fan of the industry, but he could be supportive. If not of my decision, of me.

Will he support me if I decide to do this?

I can’t imagine he will.

What do I do?

If I decide to do this, to try at least, I may lose Blake. I can’t imagine my life without him in it. He’s been there for me for so long now. We’ve had our ups and down and had to battle to get to where we are now. I don’t want to ruin that. Modeling could put a detour in our relationship if it isn’t the end of the road for us completely.

Am I willing to take the risk?

Blake has gone to bed by the time I come back inside. The sun set a while ago, darkness falling, surrounding me. I wanted to come back in and try talking to Blake again with a level head, but I couldn’t bring myself to get up. I wasn’t ready. I’m still not ready. The chill in the air is what finally drove me inside for the night.

Leaning against the door frame of my bedroom, I watch as Blake tosses and turns. I hate going to bed angry. I’m never able to sleep soundly, and it looks like our fight is having the same effect on Blake. I contemplate waking him, but he spent the day traveling on a plane. His body is still in a different time zone. Letting him sleep is a better option. We can talk it out in the morning, assuming he wants to talk to me at all.

My sleep is as restless as Blake’s. I’m not used to having someone else in the bed with me. Every time he moves, I wake up. Every time I roll into him, I wake up. It’s a long night and by the time morning arrives, I’m even more tired than when I crawled into bed.

I find Blake in the kitchen brewing a pot of coffee when I finally give up on sleeping. Tossing me a weak smile, he passes me a steaming cup with cream and sugar already mixed in.

We both sit down at the breakfast bar, sipping our coffee in uncomfortable silence. Every time I think he’s about to speak up and say something, he clears his throat and takes another drink.

“I can’t do this. I don’t want to fight.” Finding my voice, I attempt to slice through the tension in the room. I don’t want to spend the precious time we have together fighting with him.

“I don’t want to fight with you, either.”

“Good. Then, we’re done fighting.”

“Are we? Did you make your decision?”

“No, I haven’t. I have no idea what I want to do.” That’s a lie. I know what I want to do, but I’m scared to lose Blake over it. I should tell him that.

“Charlie, I love you, more than you’ll ever begin to understand. I’m not trying to fight with you or control you or make this decision for you. But I can’t support you if this is something you want. I just… I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Why? I don’t understand. Supporting me is a choice. You don’t have to like my decision or agree with it. That had nothing to do with supporting me.”

“It has everything to do with it. This will change you”—he points to my heart—“here.”

“I control my heart, Blake. You’ve been in the business for a while now, and it hasn’t changed you. It won’t change me, either. Asking me not to do this would be like me asking you to give up your camera.”

“That’s completely different.”

“No, it’s not.”

“My camera is my career.”

“And this could be mine.” Bowing my head, I know what my answer is. I can’t look at Blake while I say it. I don’t want to see the look of disapproval on his face. I don’t want to see the door close behind him when he leaves me. “We shouldn’t have to sacrifice who we are, who we want to become, to be together, Blake. You have your camera, I’ll have modeling.” A single tear forms in the corner of my eye, and I do the best I can to blink it away. “This will not change me, but it will change us. It already is. I want to do this, Blake. I’m sorry you don’t approve.”

“Me, too.”

“I’ll always love you, Blake. That’ll never change. I always thought you were the one, from the moment I met you. I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”

“We are meant to be, Charlie. One day you’ll realize that.”

CLASSES ARE STARTING
next week. I should be worrying about buying books and where to park on campus. Instead, I’m worried about what to wear to a gala tonight so Zach can show me off.

It sounds stupid, the gala. I’m not an art lover. People see things when they look at paintings that I don’t. It’s not that I’m uneducated, but I did drop all my classes last month and unenrolled from UCLA. Alice and Scott are being supportive of my decision to pursue other interests. Blake, on the other hand, is still being an ass.

Sure, we broke up that morning. He packed his bags, and we waited in silence for his roommate to come back and pick him up. I watched them drive away as the tears fell, knowing nothing would ever be the same between us again. I secretly hoped he would call and apologize, but after two weeks of silence, I knew I was dreaming.

I finally called him last week and invited him to come tonight. I want him to see this hasn’t changed me. I’ve only had one photoshoot, and no one has called Zach to book me for anything yet, hence the reason I have to go to the gala tonight, but it will happen eventually. According to Zach, I need more training. My training begins next week.

Monday afternoon, he has me meeting with a walking coach. Tuesday, I get to meet with him and a stylist. Wednesday, I have an appointment with a nutritionist. I can’t remember what I have going on Thursday or Friday, but I know there’s something. It’s all on the calendar in my apartment. The next three weeks are booked solid. On top of all that, I am expected to be at the gym to meet with my trainer every morning at six o’clock. That started last week. I could barely walk after the first day. It’s gotten better, but I’m still sore.