Shane had arranged the photoshoot for Saturday. While I was happy for it to coincide on a day when Jake wasn’t around, I found it odd that I still didn’t want to go alone. It was my first time being professionally photographed. Well, outside of the mediocre point-and-shoot sessions for school pictures, conducted by some greaseball moonlighting as a photographer, and I was nervous.

Cee would be there, I knew that, but she wouldn’t be there for me. She’d be hanging around, ogling Shane and waiting impatiently to get him back to her place. She’d be watching as ModInk’s photographer instructed me to stand this way and that, but she wouldn’t be there for me. And hell, I didn’t want her to be.

I wanted Audrey.

Perched on my bike, one block away from the shop, I stared at the phone in my hand. For one desperate moment, I considered calling Dr. Travetti, to ask her to come down as my groupie. To cheer me on and pump me up. But how fucking lame would it be, to ask my shrink to come, and all because I didn’t want to call the girl I liked.

“Don’t be a fucking pussy,” I scolded myself in an angry grumble, as I hit her name in my contact list.

I almost hung up, but she didn’t give me a chance. “Blake! Hi!”

My groan was coupled with my smile. How could she always sound so happy, like every day was Christmas and every moment was a gift?

“Hey, Audrey.”