Their first night together certainly wasn’t the last. After another few secretly sleepless hours in one bed, the girls yawn over the break of day. Alex barely has enough time to crawl out of bed, sneak out of the house and get a shower at her place. She told her dad she was spending the night at Amy’s. Problem is, Amy told her parents the truth about their relationship. How it has evolved from friendship over being soulmates to being in love. Now, the Wolfe family has been wonderful over that revelation, it’s just that Amy feels a bit weird now, asking permission to let Alex spend the night. It used to be a thing that came naturally. Alex came by, Alex spent the night – nothing weird about it.
Now it is. It’s so weird. Just thinking about asking her mom and dad’s permission for Alex to spend the night makes her feel nauseous. Because they aren’t stupid. They know just how fast lesbians go. They know they have sex.
As a way to go around the official asking for a favor thing, Amy just sneaks Alex in once they loudly said their goodbyes at the front door for mom and dad to see. It’s stupid, because there’s no way in hell that they fall for it. But as long as they pretend, that’s okay for the daughter.
Alex has gathered her clothes and runs some fingers through her hair before she jumps back on the bed to playfully kiss a half-naked Amy on the mouth. She’s tired as hell, but it’s worth it. They both get up and after some giggling moments, where both of them can’t stop groping each other, Alex decides it’s more than about time to head home and take a shower.
“I’ll be fucking late,” she explains. “And you’ll miss first class for waiting for me. You, my friend, are not capable of missing a class.”
The truth is sad, because Amy would really be upset about missing it. That’s how geeky she is. And how well Alex knows her.
The latter makes her way through the door, still pulling down her shirt, when she gets yanked back into the room. Just as she’s about to utter a genuine “What the fuck?”, Amy cups her mouth. Obviously, this is about the parents. A scouting blonde roams the hallway and after a few boring seconds, Alex notices weird noises coming from her girlfriend. She’s basically trying reenact an animal suffering an excruciating death. With eyes ready to physically crucify her lady lover to a nearby wall, Alex appears in the hallway, staring at her girlfriend with the most impressive expression ever.
“What the hell?” she whispers, pointing at her mouth.
But there’s no time to clarify. Amy pulls her down the hall until she has to refrain herself from pushing Alex down the stairs. This resolves in the Latina giving her a death-look. Such a lovely couple.
A few steps down, an abrupt break, a few steps up again. Alex pulls her girl close to her chest and kisses her firmly on the mouth. It makes the blonde smile in a girly way. Then, she watches the gorgeous model descend her stairway. It’s like the sight alone mesmerizes her, makes her repress all the things happening around her. Just as Alex is about to leave the house and shut the door behind her, a voice reverberates through the house. It makes her freeze right to the spot.
“Good morning, Alex!” Mrs. Wolfe shouts all the way from the kitchen.
Amy’s utopia ends right that second. It sinks to the ground and kills itself once it hits rock bottom. Defeated, and – let’s be honest – caught, the girl makes her way downstairs. Alex is still gloating at the front door, bites her lower lip with joy and shouts back.
“Good morning, Mrs. Wolfe.”
It gives her the opportunity to kiss Amy again. She leaves a second later and the youngest resident of the house makes her way over to her mom. Like nothing just happened, she sits down at the kitchen table. But her mom’s staring at her, enjoying this way too much.
“Sleep well?” she asks.
After a loud swallow, nervous words roll over Amy’s tongue: “I did.”
She stuffs her mouth with pancakes and remains quiet as long as nobody asks her anything. Her mother recognizes the teenage behavior from a long time ago when she was about that age and crazy in love.
“Honey, it’s okay for Alex to sleep over. She’s been doing that for many, many years.”
Amy looks her way and digests the last bit of dough in her mouth. Her phone starts buzzing. It’s a text message from Alex, ridiculing the encounter.
“It’s not exactly the same anymore, is it?” Amy hints at the development of their relationship.
But her mother shrugs and sighs all nostalgically. There used to a time when she snook out of bedrooms.
“Just don’t get her pregnant, okay?” she winks at her daughter after a while.
The girl had a piece of pancake pierced on her fork, but surprisingly, the appetite has disappeared magically.
Reunited around the dinner table, everything seems perfectly normal for a change. Uncle Aaron, David, Eli, granddad and George – everybody’s present. Amy and Alex join the manhood, after a long day at a photo studio. The blonde did her homework and read a book about the history of cinematography. Alex joined forces with Silvie Vermeer, a Dutch model on the rise. The girl is extremely thin. In fact, she’ so thin that Alex looked fat for a second, standing next to her. With her long, blond hair and bright blue eyes, the girl’s a walking stereotype. And even Alex has to admit: the girl’s drop dead gorgeous. She was sweet as hell as well. When it comes to the unmanageable attitudes of models, Alex hasn’t seen much of it up until now. Maybe it’s because she’s mostly in contact with those who haven’t exactly reached stardom yet. They’re all still working hard to land their big, breakthrough gig. It keeps them humble, being turned down at auditions, defeated by a more experienced or prettier colleague. Alex hates the part when someone else lands the shoot, but that’s just part of the job.
“Now tell me,” David asks his cousin with a stuffed mouth, “why is it that you never bring the models you work with home for dinner?”
The others laugh: he would like that, wouldn’t he.
“I can take you to my next gig,” Alex informs him. “I heard Julia Danes might take part in it.”
Nobody really seems impressed and a tongue-tied Alex throws both hands up in shock.
“The girl from the Armani ad?”
Nobody really responds. They look at her as if she’s talking about a ghost.
“The one where she’s against the wall, staring at the ground.”
She wiggles her hand near her left ear.
“Short, blond hair. Sharp face. Green eyes.”
Still, it doesn’t ring a bell. She can’t believe these people! Her fingers nervously start tapping the table, but Amy’s rough movement quickly puts an end to the annoying habit.
“She’s half naked, only wearing a pair of jeans,” Alex finally spills the beans. “White bra.”
That’s when all their eyes light up all of a sudden.
“Seriously?” she scoffs.
Half the guys start blushing. Alex is never shy to call them out on their male bullshit. Even Amy has to admit she’s just as shallow. Given the fact that they have awesome sex, Alex is willing to forgive her just this time.
“Well. All right. If that’s the way you look at these hardworking, career driven girls, that’s fine. Just keep in mind that every single emotion you experience by staring at their perfect ass, their beautiful breasts and their ravishing bodies … every single man staring at photos of me experiences the exact same thing,” she clarifies.
Suddenly, George’s face turns dark. He did not want to think about that. It’s worse enough to see her parading in front of a dozen men in her bikini’s during shoots. Now he actually has to acknowledge that there are perverts on the planet that get very detailed and nasty ideas just by looking at his daughter.
“We get the point,” David clarifies, while Amy remains quiet, trying hard not to get jealous by overthinking Alex’s explanation.
Granddad coughs in between drinks and decides to change the subject: “How was school this week?”
See, granddad is nothing if not efficient. Instead of asking her that exact same question every day, he waits until Saturday to show interest and save both of them some time.
“Good. Failed a test about math, though. But Jules said she’d help me get my grades up.”
It’s been hard juggling work and school. Everybody knows that. But George, as an academic, believes in the concept of education and getting a high school diploma is a start. So does Amy.
“Why didn’t you study harder?” her father asks.
“Because I had two photoshoots this week,” she growls. “And it’s not like math is the only course there is. English, geography, science – they teachers all came up with mandatory assignments and papers.”
Granddad Nicolas shares his opinion: “You know how important a good education is, Alex. This modeling thing can’t get in the way of your graduation.”
But his granddaughter is ultimately disappointed that they can’t understand just how hard she’s trying to make it all work. Amy puts her hand on her lap, secretly, under the table. It should calm her down a bit. Eli and David start whispering to each other, but the girls quickly learn it’s not about them.
“This is what I want to do, granddad,” Alex suddenly speaks up. “I love this job. I’m crazy good at it; it seriously doesn’t feel like working. And it pays really, really well. I earn a ridiculously amount of money for someone my age. I can always go to college after all of this fades out. It’s just one bad grade.”
The desperation in her voice is heartbreaking. She’s never been the genius Amy is, but she has always tried to pass every test thrown her way.
“You ought to be more like Amy,” George decides. “She studies hard and keeps working during weekends and holidays. You know, she could learn you one or two things actually.”
But Alex is fed up with it and drops her fork. Her fingers entwine and support the freakishly annoyed face she’s pulling. The girl gloats over some inner feelings and then turns her head to her father. Amy recognizes the look and prays she won’t go there.
“Yeah, like how to unhook a bra with one hand or secretly hold hands under the table, right?” she suddenly asks with a classic level of sass.
Amy, just devouring a mouthful of mashed potatoes, nearly chokes in her food. She went there.
That’s when the entire family freezes to the spot and utters the same word: “What?”
David knew enough, but an actual coming out wasn’t scheduled in his agenda anytime soon.
“I’m gay,” Alex shrugs, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “We’re gay.”
Her index fingers points out the two of them, while Amy’s trying not to move a muscle – hoping it’ll make her invisible. They talked about coming out to Alex’s family last week. This wasn’t a scenario.
“Fanatically,” she suddenly jokes to break the ice, but then quickly returns to looking serious.
An awkward silence fills up the space. Eli secretly smiles in his palms and just like the girls, he checks out the expressions coloring the older men in the household.
The one most comfortable with it all seems to be granddad. He just scoops up another part of the vegetables and winks at his favorite girls in the world: “That’s great. Men are dicks.”
Amy puts her left hand in front of her mouth and starts smiling enthusiastically. When she turns her head to the right, she finds her girlfriend doing the exact same thing.
“So, you’re telling me that Amy is your girlfriend?” Alex’s dad suddenly asks in a calm voice.
His daughter bravely nods.
“Well,” George and his bold head utter after a long silence, “hasn’t she always?”
Then he grabs the salad bowl in front of him and smiles.
“Things have certainly evolved from pushing the swing to discussing relationships with my little girls. But this is fun too.”
Uncle Aaron leans in to him and starts to whisper: “Sapphic relationships.”
An amused Eli, normally the quiet one around dinner time, pokes his father and entrusts him with very some important information: “We can hear you whisper.”
Alex looks up to her father, suddenly realizing how nervous this is making her, and softens her attitude. But good old George seems to be okay with it. His approving head gesture means more to his little girl than she could’ve imagined. Some of them resume eating. Given, it tastes delicious. David finally catches the girls’ attention. All he does is wink. Not so long ago, he’d be sad about not getting Amy in the end. But that has changed. Even blind people can see how perfect those two are for each other.
“Well, look at the bright side,” he announces. “The awesome thing is: in lesbian land, shopping could be considered a way of dating.”
Alex starts smiling uncontrollably.
After dinner, after everything’s cleaned up and every person is just too stuffed to barely walk around a minute longer, Alex and George disappear into the kitchen to talk things through. A very understanding and modern father stands there, assuring his daughter that there’s absolutely nothing about her relationship with Amy that makes him love her less. In fact, coming out to the family in such a convincing way only made him proud. It’s a full-circle acceptance. They hug and process their emotions. The fragile heart positioned inside of Alex’s even more fragile body feels relieved. But there’s still this other thing they obviously need to discuss. The sleeping over thing.
“Is it okay for you if Amy spends the night? I mean, if you think it’s weird, than that’s okay for us,” she stutters, looking anywhere but in his eyes.
Words have never felt this awkward. George gives it a thought. This is the sort of question students never ask him.
“I don’t know. If it were a boy, that would be … different. Or shouldn’t it?” he questions his morals out loud.
Alex bites her lower lip and squeezes one eye shut. Something about the next thing she’ll say feels weird, but honesty has always been a big part of their father-daughter relationship. It could work.
“Okay, there are about a million reasons why I shouldn’t be telling you this, but do you really think Amy and I haven’t taken advantage of the fact that our parents don’t know we’re … together together for the last couple of weeks?”
But her very modern father might not be modern enough for this very sexual revelation. The poor guy needs a couple of loud swallows to fight off some very persistent and detailed images of his daughter and her girlfriend.
“If you promise to never mention a thing like that again, she can spend the night all she wants.”
She gratefully dives into his arms and whispers a silent ‘I love you’. God, how his heart explodes when she does that.
As promised, Alex drags David along to her next job a week later. It’s set in a park, a two hour drive away from home and Rick offered to drive her all the way there. Sadly, it’s incredibly cold today and poor Alex just utterly hates being cold. She has mentioned it twice to Amy, on the phone.
She gets to star along the rising phenomenon Julia Danes, who’s been modeling for Armani, Burberry and even Dolce & Gabbana in the last couple of months. When they meet, the short-haired model kisses Alex on the cheek. It doesn’t take a lot of makeup to do her portfolio justice. God, she’s gorgeous. Her unusual short hair – for a model anyway – suits her perfectly. They bring out the intense green in her eyes. But her attitude lacks the confidence of an aspiring model, Alex quickly notices. Seems like everything around the twenty-year-old gets decided by her boyfriend, a very controlling man called Justin. Not exactly a Timberlake, if you ask Alex. The man takes his girlfriend by the arm and leads her toward the photographer, only to yell at the man a second later over the lack of luxury around the place. Julia looks submissive and uninterested.
Alex frowns and turns her head to an impressed David. He’s throwing around looks, staring at the giant capacity of the photoshoot and the so called fans that have gathered into two small groups. Alex waves at them from a distant and that makes them squeal with joy. The park’s been closed off for visitors, only people with the right name tags get to enjoy the event. David happens to have one and is way too proud about that.
The girls disappear into the makeup trailer, where they talk about their past experiences for a while and get to know the artists that make them exceptionally beautiful. The girl transforming Alex into a fairy face is called Fran. She has a pixie haircut and dresses like an alternative fashion queen. Her arms are covered with tattoos and it doesn’t take long before a curious sixteen year old starts asking about them.
“This one is for my wild past. And this for my mother. She died a few years ago. It’s about the experiences we shared, the good and the bad. You know. Cliché thing,” the rough makeup stylist summarizes.
“Oh, I’m sorry about your mom. Mine died after she gave birth to me.”
The softness and innocence in her voice makes Fran realize just how young the newfound favorite of Rick Spencer is. She apologizes for being so blunt.
“It’s okay,” Alex tells her. “It’s nice to know I’m not alone.”
Julia, conspicuously remaining quiet in her chair, doesn’t move a muscle. Her phone is being kept anxiously between her legs, just in case it might ring. Something about that boyfriend troubles Alex. He’s a bully. Besides, the photographer nearly had him removed from the set after the verbal smackdown he experienced.
“Have the two of you been dating for a long time?” Alex curiously asks.
Julia, keeping her eyes closed for the other stylist to apply a flashy color, hums in a soft way.
“Two years now,” she starts explaining. “We met at a party. His father is my agent.”
Alex rolls her eyes: that explains a lot.
“He’s a bit … worked up today, it appears,” she tries to unravel the mystery by being subtle.
Fran, accentuating Alex’s thin lips, suppresses an evil smile. Then she looks into her client’s eyes and coughs silently.
Julia has her eyes open again and suddenly acts defensive: “He’s a great guy. He just has a lot on his mind right now.”
She carefully rubs the part of her arm where her boyfriend just grabbed her. Her colleague is young enough to target the innocent part of love: “But what if he makes you feel sad? Or scared? Shouldn’t you feel great being around the person you love?”
“Sometimes I feel a certain way. And then I repress it,” the model explains. “Besides, what are you, fifteen?”
Alex frowns all offended: “Sixteen.”
Again, Fran coughs, hoping it’ll keep them from fighting. For a second, it works. Then Julia’s mood miraculously flips and she starts asking about Alex’s love life.
“Seeing anyone that makes you happy?”
There’s a slight provocative twist in her voice, but Alex decides to ignore it. Her better option is to brag about the special person that, in fact, makes her extremely happy.
“I am. I fell in love with my best friend,” she proudly announces.
When all three women, including Julia’s stylist, turn their heads her way, the magic of girl talk appears. It’s glitters and rainbows and unicorns. Even Alex starts smiling mysteriously.
“Is it that boy that was with you earlier? He looks cute,” Julia asks.
But the thought alone almost makes Alex want to throw up: “Are you kidding me? That’s my cousin.”
She sticks out her tongue.
Fran chuckles and orders her to speak up.
“Actually, it’s my girl best friend. Amy. We grew up together. And we fell in love.”
On the hunt for a picture, she pulls out her phone. She decides to show them her screensaver. Her photo roll might be a little bit too private. Seeing herself in lingerie on every billboard in the city is one thing. Seeing Amy on her phone like that is slightly different. All the women gather around the device and utter a girly squeal.
“Oh. She’s cute,” Fran says.
Julia disagrees: “No, she’s gorgeous.”
Alex softly smiles and stares at the picture a little bit longer.
“Yes. She is.”
Out of nowhere, Rick comes rushing into the trailer. He looks furious. Brown eyes are about to murder someone.
“What’s wrong?” Alex asks seconds after seeing his face.
What’s with the angry men today? The stylists stop primping the girls and anxiously await the answer.
“We’re getting out of here. No way that we’re doing this shoot,” he decides.
That makes a work-craving Alex flare out of her chair: “What!?”
Even Julia starts questioning his reasons.
“The photographer wants topless pictures. You can’t do topless pictures.”
Alex lets it sink while heaving a big sigh. All the others around her remain silent.
“Because I’m sixteen.”
Rick nods and puts both hands in his pockets. Clearly, he’s extremely tensed.
“It’s okay, Rick. But, what do we do now? Do we just walk out or … do I sway in the background?”
The look in his eyes suggests their departure. A confused Alex gets up from her chair and gathers her stuff. She apologizes to the lovely ladies and leaves the trailer. Across the little camp that has been build around the set, David’s staring at every model that passes him. This is the boy’s best day ever. The glow covering his expression is worth a million bucks.
Also worth a million bucks is Alex, but she’s wearing a robe over her tiny fairytale outfit to beat the cold of this freezing weather. By the time he sees the dynamic duo approaching him, another man is chasing them. It’s the fashion designer who ordered the photoshoot, Alexander Dubrov. He has worked for the biggest companies in the world – a very impressive man, to say the least. The obviously gay man, entering his sixties and brushing his grey hair behind with a ton of gel, catches up to them. Alex was really looking forward to working with him, but this isn’t her decision. The law is really clear on this: no nudity under the age of eighteen. Besides, she’s not into going topless.
“Wait, Mister Spencer. What is this? Why are you leaving?”
The two of them stop walking and turn around. Alexander Dubrov takes Alex’s hand in his and looks at her with a mesmerizing appreciation. She feels flattered.
“Your face is a work of art,” he tells her. “Where are you going?”
Rick steps up and points toward the photographer, some foreign big shot that has moved his European ideas to the States.
“That weirdo demands that my model goes topless,” he explains, still ragingly angry about the offer.
“So?” Alexander asks, not really understanding what it’s about.
“So,” Rick explains, “she’s only sixteen, man.”
The designer suddenly puts a hand in front of his mouth and scoffs.
“I am so sorry, Mr. Spencer. I wasn’t aware of her age. Besides, topless is not my idea, at all. Mister Loraine seemingly assumes his artistic liberty applies when working for me. He is very wrong.”
Then, he bends over to the goddess that’s about to freeze to death.
“Please, Miss Ochoa, go and warm up in the trailer. I want you for this campaign. I’ve reorganized the entire shooting around your agenda. And yes, there’s Julia, but only because I need a famous face. You see, this entire marketing plan, it revolves around your appearance. I have pictured it that way. I dreamt it. We will do whatever pleases you. Just don’t go.”
Alex is stunned. Never has there ever been such an influential person that’s begged her to work for her. She looks over to Rick, simply because her agent always figures these kind of things out and after a hesitant nod, she smiles back at the old man. When he walks away to go shout at the photographer and make sure that even more people suck up to Alex, Rick Spencer mysteriously starts smiling.
“What?” Alex wonders.
“That,” he says with the most blissful smirk on his face, “is an old man giving the game away. He loves you – oh, how he loves you. This is good.”
He grabs Alex by the shoulders and turns her his way to laugh almost hysterically. The joy and relief flowing from his posture is pure gold.
“This is so very good!”
The girl just feels utterly confused. Just a second ago, she was on her way back home. Now, suddenly, she became Alexander Dubrov’s muse or something? David joins the pair to ask what’s going on.
“This one,” Rick proudly announces while patting Alex on the shoulder, “is going to be a superstar.”
David frowns his eyes and snorts: “Cool.”
But his attention is drawn toward mister Dubrov himself, flamboyantly orchestrating his working bees around the massive rocks and trees the shooting will take place later. A male model, someone his cousin probably knows, gets called over to him.
“Who’s the little funny guy?” David ends up asking.
“That’s Alexander Dubrov. Big designer.”
Alex uses short answers when it comes to David and the fashion industry. The appreciative boy nods.
“So, is this shoot ever going to happen or what?”
Unlike Alex, he hasn’t spend that much time on sets yet. The reason why models make so much money is because most of the time, they flirt with being bored to death while waiting for the entire crew to get ready. She starts smiling. Oh, simple, pure David.
A massively loud bang wakes the defeated Alex up from a deep, deep sleep. Unable to orientate her present whereabouts, she lifts her head from the book she apparently fell asleep on and wipes away the drool sticking to her mouth. Her eyes just won’t open, no matter how hard she tries. Time passes and Alex starts to put together the pieces. She came home late last night, from New York. There was a big photoshoot with the funny Kathy McGrath. Poor thing had a massive stomach ache, yet she did an amazing job on set. It was fun, it was nice, except Alex had trouble focussing on the job. By the time she’d be back, a big History test was waiting for her. She spend all her time in between shots reading books and studying hard. Without Amy by her side, who was at home doing the exact same thing – apart from the modeling of course – it was hard to focus, hard to book results.
“Fuck!” the girl suddenly curses before jumping up in her bed. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
Today’s the day. Today is the History day. When she grabs her phone, her biggest fear translates into a sad twist of reality.
“Fuck!” she repeats in a panic. “Oh no, no, no. Not today.”
Her skinny body feels sore. This working while going to school thing is getting out of hand. She studied so hard. During the shoot, on the airplane while she was supposed to be asleep and even in the taxi ride on her way home. The stylist in New York interrogated her in the makeup chair, the photographer questioned her knowledge about World War II while taking pictures and Rick had prepared little quizzing cards for the taxi ride.
But now it’s three p.m. and History is now officially history. While rubbing her eyes, the disappointed and hasty girl jumps off the bed. That’s when she realizes that Amy’s in the room with her, fiercely looking at her. She’s mad. Oh, she’s more than mad: she’s raging.
“What the hell, Alex?” she starts yelling almost immediately after figuring out her girlfriend’s been sleeping until now. “This was a major test!”
“I know, I know,” Alex apologetically speaks up. “I overslept … I didn’t get home before three and I haven’t had any sleep on the way over here and -”
But the blonde cuts her off straight away: “This is school. This is more important than some pictures, okay. You can’t just fly to New York and have fun and expect the entire world to wait for your return.”
Alex feels enormously offended by that assumption. Never has she ever asked for a special treatment. Sure, she misses out on some classes from time to time, but the necessary precautions have been discussed with the principal. There are tasks and extra papers that allow Alex to juggle the school thing in a very flexible way.
“Hey!” she suddenly snaps, barely realizing she’s awake yet. “Cut me some slack, okay. I’m waking up over here. I overslept, it happens. I feel shit about it.”
She quickly puts on some sportswear and walks over to her cabinet to search her comb. Her eyes are swollen from fatigue. God, this is going to be one of these days again. She’s hoping Amy will drop it. But then a weird, frustrated sigh reverberates behind her and she gets it: Amy’s not going to drop it.
“In all fairness, I think it should be my dad yelling at me for missing school, not you,” she tries to joke about it.
But Amy’s just not that humorous when it comes to educational ends. She walks over to her girlfriend and grabs her by the arms to force the both of them to face each other.
“Stop joking about it. This is important.”
“So you said,” Alex scoffs.
Seriously, sometimes the girl isn’t even trying to make things better. It’s just that she’s feeling exhausted from the long week she has had and this is just another unnecessary piece of drama.
“Alex, I’m just trying to help,” Amy tries in a softer voice, but for some reason, that triggers the fed up part in the Latina.
“Well, I don’t need help. Sure, I overslept, but you know what, I have spend hours – countless hours – studying for this ridiculous test. I skipped almost the entire night to memorize the stupid details about World War II and all the freaking dates I won’t even remember next week. And then you walk in here and start yelling at me while I look like a disaster, while I feel like one as well, and I don’t need that right now. Because all I want to do right now is go to school and explain to Mr. Greer what happened.”
Shouting feels so liberating. All the tension from the last couple of weeks finally get their outing. Even if it is by yelling at the girl she loves.
“So back the fuck off and let me get dressed, okay?”
Amy remains frozen to the spot as Alex forcefully yanks open the first door of her closet. Clothes are flying through the room like they just got their wings, but it’s a furious Alex that makes them discover the facts of gravity. When she stumbles over an old CD underneath a pair of jeans, she throws it across the room until the cover breaks into a hundred pieces. It’s very far away from the place where her lover is standing.
“God, would you please stop that? Or at least throw something of your own,” Amy sighs while dramatically rolling her eyes.
The dark haired beauty stops turning her belongings upside down and takes a look over her shoulder. Then she recognizes the CD she threw away. It’s Amy’s. She quickly walks over to the destroyed item and picks it up so carefully that it could’ve easily been a bomb she’s holding.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she apologizes, like it genuinely fell by accident.
She stares at her shaking hands and sighs completely disappointed by her own behavior.
“I’m really sorry. About everything. I did everything I could to pass this test but – I don’t know. I didn’t even hear my alarm go off this morning. It’s like I …”
Amy walks over to her and cups her face: “It’s alright. I believe you. It’s all a bit much and I shouldn’t have overreacted like this.”
Her arms wrap themselves around Alex’s masterpiece of a body and she kisses her girlfriend softly on the cheek.
“Will you come to school with me, to talk to Mr. Greer? I’m too tired to drive,” Alex asks, wiping away the existence of the big shouting that happened a second ago.
Amy nods. Of course she will. A few fingers patiently put away the messy hairs hanging down Alex’s face.
“And then we can go shopping. I feel like shopping,” the model continues.
That makes Amy laugh in a confusing way: “You just said you were tired.”
“Never too tired to go shopping,” is the confident response. “Besides, I have a lot of money right now, babe. I need to spend at least a little bit.”
After a few doubtful looks, the blond one shrugs to mock her words: “Okay, if you put it that way.”
After extensive apologizing, explaining and negotiating to and with Mr. Greer, Alex gets offered a second chance right to the spot. In the presence of her teacher and her girlfriend, she gets to sit down and fill in a copy of the test. While her eyes feel heavy over the lack of sleep, she puts in her best effort. She and her coworkers went over this for hours yesterday. She remembers the answers by associating them with people and poses. She puts together the music that was playing to the quizzing that was taking place at the same time.
Impressed by her determination, Mr. Greer even decides to grade it right after she finishes. A solid B it is and Alex couldn’t be happier about it.
“Thank you, Mr. Greer. I promise it won’t happen again,” she thanks the man, while apologizing at the same time.
He nods in a friendly way and asks her to leave, so he can go home to his family. The girlfriends smile and listen to their teacher.
A half an hour later, they are at the mall, where Alex is strutting around with the largest cup of coffee she’s ever held. They stroll from shop to shop and try on way too many clothes while hoping nobody will recognize the shortest girl of the duo. A big pair of sunglasses and an oversized scarf should help do so.
“Don’t you want to go to the Armani store? Or Calvin Klein?” Amy suddenly proposes.
An exited Alex, always acting this way inside the mall, looks up to her and frowns: “Why?”
“Um – because you work for them now. Don’t you want more expensive things than this forty dollar jeans now?” Amy scoffs while pointing at the piece of clothing that her girlfriend is holding.
“I like this pair of jeans. I see a lot of Calvin and Armani and God knows what every single day. And I own a lot of those already – they just randomly give them to me after a shoot. I need to own a pair of jeans I can actually move in or jump into the dirt with,” is the surprising response.
The blonde walks around the clothing rack and giggles: “I’ve known you for eleven years, Alex. I have never seen you jump into the dirt, not even once.”
She gets poked and accused of teasing, but soon after, a surprise kiss shuts them both up. Alex can be sweet like this. Simply walking from the first cash register to the next can result into a spontaneous handholding that’s heartwarming. Just like she hides love notes in Amy’s lockers from time to time.
While making her way over to the fitting room all alone, Alex gets recognized by two young women. They start whispering to each other, but forget that pointing is a very unsubtle thing to do. Amy thinks it’s funny. Awaiting the curious development of the newly daily routine, the amused blonde leans against a nearby wall, analyzing the duo’s interaction. Alex suddenly reappears from the cubicle and waves at her girlfriend, gesturing for an opinion about that skinny jeans flawlessly doing her perfect ass honor. The two curious fans then turn their heads toward Amy and feel caught, standing so nearby. But she couldn’t blame the girls for staring, even if she wanted to.
“I get it, she’s, like too hot, right?” she asks them.
The duo slowly nods, while remaining still for a moment. Amy just shrugs, completely understanding where they’re coming from.
“Yeah, I’ve been there,” she tells herself.
Even after all these years, she finds herself ecstatically mesmerized all the time by this woman. It’s very normal for other people to feel the same.
“Don’t let her fool you,” she alerts them subsequently. “She’s raised by a pack of Spanish wolves. Wait until you see her arguing with a girl over some shirt she’s interested in. She’ll punch her in the nose.”
An amused wink makes the girls smile and after that, Amy turns around to find her lady lover. They fit on the clothes they like, decide which ones to take home and make their way over to the cash register.
“Come here, I’ll cover those,” Alex offers, while taking Amy’s choice away from her.
But the blonde refuses, clearly feeling displeased: “I can pay for my own clothes, sweetie. I don’t need you to buy me stuff.”
Her girlfriend picks up on the disapproving attitude right away and starts laughing.
“I just want to buy you something nice, wise-ass. Please, let me. I broke your CD.”
“That was a million years old,” Amy smirks. “No, really, I don’t want to benefit from your money. I don’t want to be that kind of girl.”
But the dark haired goddess immediately corrects her: “I started sleeping with you before I was a successful model, when you were the rich one of us. You know, your parents and their movie studio. I’m the gold digger in this relationship.”
She yanks the clothes out of Amy’s hands and lays them on the counter. The gross guy in front of her just stares at her with his jaw dropped. Alex asks him what’s wrong. Sometimes, she forgets how public her face has become.
“You look like you fell from heaven?” he stutters, while his eyes keep fleeing to her cleavage.
“Really? Oh, that’s sweet. You too, though,” she answers way too annoyed to be serious.
Seriously, this guy is creepy. His interest in her is just too sexual to be flattering.
“Really?” he hopefully wonders out loud while scanning the articles.
Alex pulls her credit card through the terminal and smirks viciously: “Yes. Looks like it was a big smack.”