Chapter 2: That Model Girl

Saturday has arrived, and my beach date along with it. It's not exactly glamorous. Hunter isn't known for being mister romantic. Although I wish he would take me out to a fancy dinner once in a while, is that too much to ask?

I put on the bathing suit Hunter likes. I am not a fan of my olive skin clashing with these navy blue planet colors. But if Model Perfect makes it and they want me to look a certain way, then here goes nothing.

Rosa Higgins, my best friend, knocks on my bedroom window.

"Oh my gosh, girl, that suit is lit. I am so jealous of you. You always look...perfect."

Poor Rosa has no idea that being the most popular girl in school sucks. I wish I were invisible then no one except anything from me. But, being the hot topic of gossip comes with a price. My life is not private. Even my journal has its own website on a blog page that Freddie's invented for me.

"Rosa, please stop reminding me of how perfect I am. I am not, okay? I am human too."

"Okay, sorry, geez. I love your bathing suit, that's all. So what's got you all in knots?"

"I got in a fight with Hunter, and I am nervous about our date. This Saturday is supposed to be just us, but it won't be. It's always all the people trying to be seen with us in public. So for once, I want to be an invisible girl on a date with her boyfriend that no one knows. I want a private beach to make love on. Is that too much to ask?"

"When you're an internet celebrity, no. Of course, not. You're freaking Emma Rhodes, and you get to date Hunter Bates, lead singer for Aftershock. The world envies you, my friend, and so do I."

Sometimes I wonder if Rosa is a fangirl that became my best friend. She's always smiling and listening to me. Her words are always kind, but her methods are sometimes tacky. This one time, she tried to give me advice with fortune cookies. It was cute and nerdy and made me wish I had a sister.

"Rosa, I am serious. I want privacy once in a while."

Rosa bites her lips, and the fangirl turns into my friend again.

"Okay, right. Well, maybe you can have one-on-one hot tub time with Hunter. You have an amazing hot tub on your deck with an amazing ocean view. Just look at that Florida view. You guys could practically make babies in that hot tub beneath the stars."

"Thanks, Rosa. I will keep that in mind. I need to get going. Hunter is picking me up soon. Are you going to the Lincoln-Way East party tonight? Jeremiah will be there."

Jeremiah Winters is the captain of every sports team and has the smile that Greek paintings are based on. Does Rosa have a crush on him? Pretty sure she is in love with him and all his college-aged brothers.

"Yes, of course, I am going. I am going to do it. I am going to ask Jeremiah out at that party. I am sick of waiting for him to ask me."

"You go, girl! That's the way to get it done. I really need to get going. Look what Hunter just texted me."

Hunter: Let's go. I have a surprise for you.

"Awe, that's so sweet. You two need to get married already."

"Maybe after high school, not during it. One more year in high school, can you believe it?"

"No, not really. We need to go clothes shopping for school."

Rosa forgets that Model Perfect picks out all my clothes for every day of my life. So the only outfit I have a say in is my birthday suit when I want to take a bath.

"I can help you pick out your clothes. Model Perfect has my clothes selected for the next two months."

"You're lucky. That must be nice not to have to stress over clothes. See you at the party."

"Bye. And yeah, it's nice, I guess." The truth is, I want to wear something nerdy for once in my life.

Rosa leaves, and I put on the sundress that matches the star-patterned bathing suit. Everything is labeled with Model Perfect logos. I'm sick of that little pink and purple 'MP' logo on all my tags.

I head out of the house. My parents are both working this weekend. It's a good thing, too, since my weekend is full of too many plans to keep track of.

"Wow, look at the most gorgeous girl in the world. I have a surprise for you."

I kiss Hunter like I always do. But, unfortunately, a nearby photographer is taking an unwanted photo of us. Hunter sees the photographer and digs his tongue into my mouth. I hate it when Hunter gets cocky for the public.

"What's the surprise?" I hope the surprise will outshine Hunter's publicity stunts.

"Well, I know you always want to get a private beach. So, I found a little spot where no one goes. Maybe like four people max, even know where this place is. So, what do you say?"

Wow, Hunter has outdone himself. His blonde hair is spiked up today in all directions. I like this style on him.

"Sounds great. I can't wait."

We get on his motorcycle and go to the beach. The wind flies through my hair, and the ocean air smells fresh today. The sun is perfect for a day like today.

The sand is squeaky to my feet, and the tiny seashells are everywhere. I hand Hunter his Mountain Dew and the basket of sushi. He loves California rolls. I made them myself.

"How are you doing, Emma? I've been worried about you. You seem off. Did I piss you off again? I wasn't trying to. It's hard not to get excited when...you're the hottest girl at school. I know I can be a bit much. But it's only cause I know I could lose you if I don't try hard enough."

I grab his hand. It's the first time Hunter has let his guard down since we first started dating. I find his eyes and look into them.

"It's fine. I've been stressed out from Model Perfect. This beach day will help me calm down. It's not you. Senior year has my head spinning. I have college on my mind and wonder what will happen to us in the future."

Could I really be with Hunter forever? Hunter spreads the blanket out and looks around to see if anyone is around before he gets on top of me. We make out on his towel for a while before he gets off.

"I'm going to go surf. You want to come?"

"No, I want to get my tan on."

He grabs his blue board and starts surfing. While he's gone, I finally have a minute to myself. I feel a sand attack while my eyes are closed.

"Joshua, tell her you're sorry. Sorry, miss, my little brother's an idiot. Can I help you shake your things out?"

A young man I've seen before says. He's wearing black board shorts and has a pretty toned body for someone whose name I can't recall.

"Sure, I appreciate the help and no worries. I'm impressed he got that much sand on two towels."

"What's your name?" The young man says as I hand him a towel. Our eyes meet, and I see the light, familiar brown tone.

"You don't know who I am? I am Emma Rhodes. And who are you," I ask, happy that someone doesn't recognize me for a change.

"Arlo...Arlo Finch. You look familiar. Do you go to school around here," Arlo asks while taking the towel from my hands. His hand touches mine when it does.

"Yeah. I'm a senior at Davis high school," I reply.

"Wait, are you that Model girl everyone talks about? Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

He hands me the towel back and smiles. A bright dimple appears on his left cheek when he does. Damn, he's kind of hot.

"Yeah, that's me, the model girl. I'm sure you know all about me then. Everyone knows me."

"Well, how can I know you? We just met?" Arlo's question hangs in the air and washes over me. It's refreshing to meet someone who doesn't assume everything about me.

"I just meant everyone reads things about me and assumes they know me." It's a terrifying thought that people can look me up online and read whatever they like and believe it all.

"They're stupid then. Just cause a gossip journalist writes up some article about you doesn't mean I know you. It's like writing a biography on Abraham Lincoln. We know who he was and what he did, but the facts aren't the person."

Arlo's voice is soothing and gentle, like a slow wind passing through the field. For someone I've just met, he sure has spoken a truth I needed to hear.

"Yeah, that's a good way of putting it. Those gossip journals are like biographies," I reply as I smile back at his contagious grin.

"Do you hate it? Being a celebrity of sorts?"

No one has ever asked me that before. He's the first person ever to ask me these personal questions. Maybe they don't sound like personal questions, but to me, they are. To admit that I want a break from it all would be the end of me.

"It can be exhausting to be known all the time. That's why this conversation is so refreshing," I reply.

"Hey, dirtbag, what the fuck are you doing?" Hunter yells while pointing at Arlo.

"Hunter, what the hell? He and I are just chatting. Can you relax," I insist while trying to calm Hunter down?

Hunter's protective instincts have kicked in, and he's turned into a male lion with the goal of killing anyone who touches his prize, which I know is me.

"You aren't supposed to talk to strangers," Hunter reminds me. Sometimes Hunter feels more like a Model Perfect bodyguard than a boyfriend. He always reminds me of the rules and that talking to people I don't know is wrong.

"Hunter, I'm legally an adult. Therefore, I can talk to whoever I want."

"Stay out of this, Emma. Why the fuck are you talking to my girlfriend, you little shit," Hunter asks again?

"Relax, man. I'm not trying to steal your woman. I was just helping her out for a second," Arlo replies while taking a step back.

"She doesn't need your help. I can help her, thank you. But, wait a minute, I know you. You're that photography loser from school, aren't you? Yeah, it's you, alright. If I ever catch you looking or talking to my girlfriend ever again, I will break your camera and your face. You get me?"

Hunter pounds his chest like a male silverback gorilla. His actions are humiliating, and I have no say in anything. If I push Hunter over the edge too much, he will hit me again. It's not a reoccurring behavior. It's on occasion. I haven't told Freddie, my agent, about it because there doesn't seem to be a point. I've learned to keep my mouth shut around Hunter and his ever-growing temper.

"Yeah, I was just leaving. Nice to meet you, Emma. Have a good one," Arlo says as he prepares to leave. Arlo grabs his little brother, who appears to be ten to twelve years old, and walks away.

Arlo turns back to look at me, and I mouth to him that I will be okay. For the first time, I have an urge, a deep urge to follow a stranger into the horizon because right now, being with an angry Hunter is anything but romantic.

"Are you ready to continue our date," Hunter asks as he sits beside me on the towel?

I don't want to be on this date. I want to be anywhere else than with Hunter Bates. But I sit down and pretend to enjoy myself. I laugh at his bad jokes and smile when I'm supposed to. I play the part I've been cast in. Our date ends, and I feel nothing. Hunter takes me home and tells me he'll pick me up for the party later. When you feel nothing, what does that mean? I'm not sure, but that can't be a good sign for me.