Paradise Lost (Private 9)

"I'm on it," I told her, thinking the warm water might help me clear my mind. Make me realize it had all been a figment of my imagination. Because one thing I did not want for Christmas was a stalker.

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CHAPTER 26 RELATIONSHIP NUANCES

By mid-afternoon on Sunday, I had made a serious decision about the rest of my life.

I did not want to be a model.

These poor girls. Kiran and the rest of the models spent the entire day on the beach, half clothed, with men they didn't know splashing water on them. The meager clothing they did have on was pinned in a million places, and the pins looked like they were jabbing into their skin whenever they moved. Half their time was spent waiting and shivering in the surprisingly cool breeze coming off the ocean while Tassos and Tiff fixed the lighting or checked the exposure or adjusted some m

eter or another. When craft services showed up with lunch-heaps and heaps of salads and sandwiches and pastries--all they consumed was water. I think I saw Kiran eat a slice of cucumber, but she did it so fast I couldn't be sure.

Meanwhile, Noelle, Taylor, Amberly, and I all sat on a flat gray rock

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in the sand, chowing down on chicken salad and coffee and watching the proceedings. I, for one, was bored. The whole thing had been glamorous and exciting for the first half hour--the gorgeous people, the racks of expensive clothing, the makeup and hair artists at the ready with their tool belts full of products--but really, it was just a lot of standing around.

With all the downtime, my thoughts kept wandering back to that blur I'd seen outside my window the previous morning. Had someone really been there, or had I just been acting paranoid? I so wished I could rewind my life to check what I'd missed, the way I could on the Billings parlor DVR. As two of the models began posing in ankle-deep water, each wearing mod bathing suits made up of skinny spandex strips taped to their bodies in strategic places, Noelle nudged me with her elbow, waking me from my thoughts.

"You can see that girl's entire nipple," she whispered.

"Which one?" I asked, squinting.

"The one on our left," Taylor put in. "It's so obvious. Right through the bathing suit."

I looked away. "Ew. This isn't SI."

"SI? " Amberly asked.

"Sports Illustrated," I clarified with a sneer.

"You don't have to be so condescending all the time," Amberly said, shifting her position. "Like knowing Sports Illustrated is something to be haughty about anyway."

"I'm condescending?" I hissed, leaning forward so I could see her past Noelle. "Who's the person who spent an entire week talking

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down to me, tossing dry-cleaning bills at my feet, calling me Glass-Licker and--oh wait, I almost forgot--trashing my room and stealing from me?"

Amberly's eyes went wide. "I asked you for those things, and you wouldn't give them to me! What was I supposed to do?"

"Oh, I don't know, how about not breaking into my room and destroying half my stuff? " I shouted.

"Ladies! Ladies! You two are going to need to kiss and make up," Noelle said, lacing together her fingers and resting them on her lap. "Because there is only one vacancy in Billings next semester and guess what--it's in Amberly's room."

Wait. Noelle expected me to live with Amberly? In the room I used to share with Sabine? Why not just lock me in the house with the psycho neighbor from Disturbia and leave me there?

"You want us to live together? " Amberly blurted, spilling iced coffee on her exposed toes. She quickly wiped it up and tucked the wet napkin in the pocket of her silk cardigan.

"Can't I live with Constance?" I asked, my hands pressing into the cold, hard rock on either side of me. "I'm sure that Amberly, as a freshman, wouldn't mind splitting the triple with Kiki and Astrid."

"No way! I am not living in a triple!" Amberly protested. "Constance can come live with me."

"Well, isn't this interesting?" Noelle said, tossing back her hair and taking a sip of her coffee. "Looks like you two both have a reason to kiss my ass for the next few days."

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