Shyly, she passed the photo to me, and I’m pretty sure it made my heart stop. The picture showed Isabelle perching on a tree stump, sideways to the camera. Her blonde hair was blowing in the breeze, and even though she was only dressed casually, the photo oozed beauty.
“Wow. Who took this?”
“My friend, Willow. She’s in my photography class. In the summer, we went out to experiment with different styles, and Willow thought I’d look ‘cute’ sitting on a tree stump. I took a similar photo of her too.”
“Willow was right. This is a beautiful shot.”
For about the millionth time since I met her, her face turned red, and she mumbled. “Thanks. When people see this photo, they always assume it’s Georgia.”
I shrugged. “Easy mistake to make.”
She shook her head. “Georgia’s the pretty one.”
I couldn’t stop myself laughing out loud. “You’re identical! If someone thinks Georgia is beautiful, they think you are too.”
“No,” she insisted. “Georgia has all the perfection. I don’t think I’m ugly or anything. I’m okay with my appearance most of the time, but if you look closely, there are differences between Georgia and me.”
True story. After all, I thought Isabelle was stunning, but Georgia merely pretty. I just hadn’t figured out what the differences were yet.
“So how do people tell you apart?” I asked. “I mean, physically. You’re obviously very different in personality.”
Isabelle’s face turned stony for a second, then she gave me a large, unnatural grin, showing her teeth.
“Oh,” I said. “People tell you apart by your uncanny Cheshire Cat impressions!”
“No!” she laughed. “My teeth are … wonky compared to Georgia’s. Hers are all straight. My two front teeth … one is slightly bigger than the other.”
“That’s it?” I asked, laughing again. “So, to tell you apart, I have to ask you to open your mouths?”
“Yeah.”
“If two very slightly uneven teeth is the only difference, you’re lucky. It’s barely noticeable.”
“Thanks, but I know it’s there, and I hate it.”
She was far too pretty to be worried about the size of her teeth. I wanted to wrap my arms around her, and tell her how ridiculously attractive she was but there were two reasons I couldn’t. Firstly, my respect for Hunter and his family meant I didn’t want to abuse their kindness by hitting on their daughter. If she rejected me, the rest of the stay would be awkward for us, and if she didn’t … well, everyone else would probably feel awkward. Secondly, she was too fragile. Not the unstable kind of fragile, but so delicate and shy, I didn’t want to frighten her. And finally, it was way too soon.
She sighed, and I got the feeling she needed me to leave, so I stood up.
“Thanks for letting me hide in here,” I said. “Your photography is really great. I’m glad you shared it with me.”
“You’re welcome, Jesse.”
Her soft voice speaking my name really tested my resolve, but I threw her a smile, then went back to my own room.
I sat on the edge of the bed in my pink room, and put my head in my hands. It wasn’t fair that girls like Isabelle didn’t exist in L.A. Or if they did, I’d never been lucky enough to run into one. I’d met fame seekers, users, gold diggers and cheats. I once got propositioned by a woman in her forties who was married with a son my age.
I loved my job, but being in the public eye made me a target for people who wanted something from me I couldn’t, or didn’t want to give. I was never like Hunter. As much I admired his ‘Go get ‘em’ attitude to women, I wasn’t that guy. Relationships were always better to me than hook-ups. Not that there had been many of either. My only serious relationship was this year with a girl who may or may not have broken my heart.
Maybe you need to re-consider the hook-up thing. You’re obviously doing something wrong!
“Hey, why did you run away?”
I lifted my head, and Hunter stood in front of me. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I just don’t like being pawed by strangers.”
Hunter smiled. “If you’d stayed a bit longer, she wouldn’t have been a stranger.”