minutes he stood with his ankh clutched in one hand while Fawn sprayed foundation makeup on his face, neck and chest.
"This feels icky," he said.
"I like your tan," she said, ignoring Jon's complaints. "The color makes this easier."
Standing there shirtless, Jon suddenly wished he had Max's bravado. Thanks to his workouts with Fred over the summer, he was fit, but with several of the models giving him appraising glances, he would rather have been clothed.
"You're dry, so take a seat," Fawn said.
Feeling like an obedient puppy, Jon slipped the chain of his ankh over his head and perched on the chair. Fawn wielded a beige-brown eye pencil and instructed him to look up so she could line his eyes.
"You're kidding," Jon said. "Is this really necessary?"
Fawn's smile was sympathetic. "This is your first time in makeup, huh? Don't worry, you're adorable. You're going to love how the photos turn out."
"I just don't want you to make me look like a girl."
"Honey, there's no way you'd ever look like a girl."
Glad none of his friends were watching, Jon let Fawn do her job. After she finished the makeup, she trimmed his hair a little, put some goo in it, and styled it. The girls from the fashion shoot had split by then and the photo stylist guy had arrived.
"I'm Raul," he announced, as if Jon should know who he was.
"Er⦠Jon."
Raul stared at Jon for several long moments. Alarmed, Jon stared back.
"That dragon ring you're wearing â I love it," Raul stated.
Jon could tell he didn't love Ophelia, and from the tingling sensation she sent through his finger, so could she.
"It's so⦠mysterious," Raul continued. "Does it come off?"
Although Jon could have removed Ophelia, he wasn't in a cooperative mood anymore. "No. Neither does the ankh."
Raul wasn't fazed a bit. "Well, we'll go with it, then. Your jeans will work, too."
He sorted through a rolling rack of men's clothes and handed Jon a black leather jacket.
"What about a shirt?" Jon asked.
"No shirt," he said. "Let's go bare underneath the jacket."
"Let's not. I'll use the shirt I came in with."
After an exasperated sigh, Raul found Jon a crisp white shirt. "Leave it unbuttoned."
Despite Raul grumbling to Fawn, Jon left only the top three buttons undone. The stylist crossed the studio to tell Lenny that Jon was ready. The photographer was tinkering with backgrounds and lighting, but he motioned Jon over. Lenny posed Jon on a large wooden cube against a gray canvas backdrop. Fawn and Raul stood by, ready to repair the slightest sheen on Jon's complexion or remedy a clothing mishap.
After Lenny got going, it took another hour for him to be satisfied with the photos. Jon dressed in his own clothes afterward, relieved it was over. Before he left, Lenny handed him one of the instant photographs he'd printed out to check the lighting.
"You can keep this, if you like. Souvenir."
As he stared at the photo, Jon was taken aback. The kid in the photo was glossy, handsome, and soulful. "That's not me."
Lenny laughed. "Jon, the photo represents the best of you. Plus, that kid will help draw people into the art exhibit."
Unconvinced, Jon thanked Lenny, Raul, and Fawn and left the studio. The whole photo session had taken far longer than he'd anticipated, and into the dinner hour. He drove home with his stomach growling, hoping his mother had saved him something to eat. Fortunately she'd held the meal later than usual and the family was just sitting down when he rolled in.
"Hi. Thanks for waiting."
He slid into his chair, bowed his head, and waited for the blessing. When his father remained silent, Jon glanced up to discover his entire family gaping at him. Sela's mouth actually hung open.
"Look, I'm sorry I'm late," Jon said. "I had no idea the photographer was going to take so long."
"You're wearing makeup," Sela said. "And your hair is all⦠fussy."
"I know." Jon reached into his pocket for the instant photo and tossed it to her. "Stupid, huh? And if
"This feels icky," he said.
"I like your tan," she said, ignoring Jon's complaints. "The color makes this easier."
Standing there shirtless, Jon suddenly wished he had Max's bravado. Thanks to his workouts with Fred over the summer, he was fit, but with several of the models giving him appraising glances, he would rather have been clothed.
"You're dry, so take a seat," Fawn said.
Feeling like an obedient puppy, Jon slipped the chain of his ankh over his head and perched on the chair. Fawn wielded a beige-brown eye pencil and instructed him to look up so she could line his eyes.
"You're kidding," Jon said. "Is this really necessary?"
Fawn's smile was sympathetic. "This is your first time in makeup, huh? Don't worry, you're adorable. You're going to love how the photos turn out."
"I just don't want you to make me look like a girl."
"Honey, there's no way you'd ever look like a girl."
Glad none of his friends were watching, Jon let Fawn do her job. After she finished the makeup, she trimmed his hair a little, put some goo in it, and styled it. The girls from the fashion shoot had split by then and the photo stylist guy had arrived.
"I'm Raul," he announced, as if Jon should know who he was.
"Er⦠Jon."
Raul stared at Jon for several long moments. Alarmed, Jon stared back.
"That dragon ring you're wearing â I love it," Raul stated.
Jon could tell he didn't love Ophelia, and from the tingling sensation she sent through his finger, so could she.
"It's so⦠mysterious," Raul continued. "Does it come off?"
Although Jon could have removed Ophelia, he wasn't in a cooperative mood anymore. "No. Neither does the ankh."
Raul wasn't fazed a bit. "Well, we'll go with it, then. Your jeans will work, too."
He sorted through a rolling rack of men's clothes and handed Jon a black leather jacket.
"What about a shirt?" Jon asked.
"No shirt," he said. "Let's go bare underneath the jacket."
"Let's not. I'll use the shirt I came in with."
After an exasperated sigh, Raul found Jon a crisp white shirt. "Leave it unbuttoned."
Despite Raul grumbling to Fawn, Jon left only the top three buttons undone. The stylist crossed the studio to tell Lenny that Jon was ready. The photographer was tinkering with backgrounds and lighting, but he motioned Jon over. Lenny posed Jon on a large wooden cube against a gray canvas backdrop. Fawn and Raul stood by, ready to repair the slightest sheen on Jon's complexion or remedy a clothing mishap.
After Lenny got going, it took another hour for him to be satisfied with the photos. Jon dressed in his own clothes afterward, relieved it was over. Before he left, Lenny handed him one of the instant photographs he'd printed out to check the lighting.
"You can keep this, if you like. Souvenir."
As he stared at the photo, Jon was taken aback. The kid in the photo was glossy, handsome, and soulful. "That's not me."
Lenny laughed. "Jon, the photo represents the best of you. Plus, that kid will help draw people into the art exhibit."
Unconvinced, Jon thanked Lenny, Raul, and Fawn and left the studio. The whole photo session had taken far longer than he'd anticipated, and into the dinner hour. He drove home with his stomach growling, hoping his mother had saved him something to eat. Fortunately she'd held the meal later than usual and the family was just sitting down when he rolled in.
"Hi. Thanks for waiting."
He slid into his chair, bowed his head, and waited for the blessing. When his father remained silent, Jon glanced up to discover his entire family gaping at him. Sela's mouth actually hung open.
"Look, I'm sorry I'm late," Jon said. "I had no idea the photographer was going to take so long."
"You're wearing makeup," Sela said. "And your hair is all⦠fussy."
"I know." Jon reached into his pocket for the instant photo and tossed it to her. "Stupid, huh? And if
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