Edge of the Ravine

37

Chapter Thirty-Seven

      My heart gave a grateful stutter when the photographer grumbled without looking at me, "I don't need him. I have enough."

      The assistant turned her head towards the photographer and I was treated to the sight of a worn baseball cap worn backwards on her hair. When she looked me, warm brown eyes were buried in the shadows of a furrowed brow. Once more, she glanced back at her boss, indecision lining her features. Suddenly, when she looked again at me and resolve was clear in her eyes, I felt my heart give a panicked stutter.

     "Would you mind if I...?" My eyes closed and my heart dropped because I knew the young woman in the over-large, red plaid shirt was not talking to me.

      The photographer never answered. He never intended to as he simply waved his hand dismissively in the direction of my new tormentor. My eyes pleaded with the young woman who seemed so out of place amongst the other assistants. Either she didn't notice, or my obvious alarm merely intrigued her further. Picking up a camera, she pointed it at me before I could even duck into the shadows.

     "Do you mind?" She surprised me by asking, finally taking note of my expression.

     "No, he doesn't." A stab of betrayal shot through me at Jace's smirking remark. "C'mon, Hummingbird. You'll look great with the city as a backdrop." Again, a hand promising trust and faith was held out to me. This time I did not take it.

     "No," the assistant quickly interceded. "He looks right there."

      And I thought my eyes could go no wider. My lips parted and I tried my hardest to say the words aloud. To assure her that I was not a model. That... that I was a fraud. Wearing the clothes but unable to pose them. What had I gotten myself into?

      But the words wouldn't come. They were caught in my throat. Lodged behind the shock and surprise of being mistaken for something I was clearly not.

      The camera flashed before I had time to think of anything else. In reaction, my eyes closed and my head tilted. Another flash assaulted me. Half turning away, I clenched my fists as panic fully began to set in. I could hear the camera clicking at rapid fire.

     "Please," I whispered. Turning just slightly to look back at her, I said in a louder tone, "please stop."

      In an instant, the camera lowered to her chest. The bewilderment on her face was completely justified, I knew. After all, I was the one who appeared to be something I wasn't. All the same, a pang of guilt flashed in her eyes and she mumbled quickly, "I'm sorry, I thought..."

      Shacking my head, I darted back to the curtained off area used for changing. Despite the angry glower of the wardrobe man, I stripped quickly out of the designer fashions and donned my own clothing once more. And as soon as I could, I bolted from their makeshift studio.

      I ran four blocks before a stitch formed in my side and my breathing became harder. When that happened, my eyes scoured around for the nearest bus or taxi that could take me from the humiliating circumstances looming over my shoulder. After spinning in a hopeless circle for a good five turns, I noticed a shiny double-decker pull up to the bus stop. Relief drowned me and I sprinted towards my salvation. And though it was the beginning of a very confusing and circuitous route, I was happy the moment I was able to take the last step into the solitude of my own cramped apartment.