Authors: S. G. Rogers
Secrets of Yden (6 page)
Bad Timing
Jon made arrangements to do his photo shoot Thursday after school. Lenny Capp Photography Studio was located in a loft near downtown Pacific City. When Jon made the appointment, the photographer told him to not cut his hair and to avoid getting zits beforehand. Although Jon thought maybe the last part was a joke, he wasn't quite sure. The photographer hadn't laughed when he said it.
Parking was bad, so Jon was ten minutes late to the appointment. Although he usually hated being late, for once it didn't matter. Lenny was running behind on a fashion shoot for a local magazine and the place was full of people. Tall, skinny girls with smudgy eye makeup slouched around in designer dresses, waiting for instructions. Freaked out right off the bat, Jon wanted to leave, but Lenny's assistant nabbed him as he edged backward toward the exit. He pulled Jon toward a chair for hair and makeup.
"Whoa.
Makeup?
" Jon dug in his heels. "No, you don't understand. I'm not here for a fashion thing. I'm just supposed to have a publicity photo taken for the Tri-County Museum."
"You're Jon Hansen, right? You need your hair and makeup done before the shoot. And we've got a photo stylist coming in to pick out something for you to wear."
Jon's mouth opened, but he was speechless.
Huh? What the heck is a
photo stylist
? He finally found his voice. "Somebody's got their signals crossed somewhere. I'm already dressed."
The assistant waved off his protests. "Trust me."
He introduced Jon to a makeup artist named Fawn, who asked him to remove his ankh necklace and shirt. She had a small spray gun gizmo for the makeup, which reminded Jon of the airbrush he used sometimes for painting. For the next ten minutes he stood with his ankh clutched in one hand while Fawn sprayed foundation makeup on his face, neck and chest.
"This feels icky," he said.
"I like your tan," she said, ignoring Jon's complaints. "The color makes this easier."
Standing there shirtless, Jon suddenly wished he had Max's bravado. Thanks to his workouts with Fred over the summer, he was fit, but with several of the models giving him appraising glances, he would rather have been clothed.
"You're dry, so take a seat," Fawn said.
Feeling like an obedient puppy, Jon slipped the chain of his ankh over his head and perched on the chair. Fawn wielded a beige-brown eye pencil and instructed him to look up so she could line his eyes.
"You're kidding," Jon said. "Is this really necessary?"
Fawn's smile was sympathetic. "This is your first time in makeup, huh? Don't worry, you're adorable. You're going to love how the photos turn out."
"I just don't want you to make me look like a girl."
"Honey, there's no way you'd ever look like a girl."
Glad none of his friends were watching, Jon let Fawn do her job. After she finished the makeup, she trimmed his hair a little, put some goo in it, and styled it. The girls from the fashion shoot had split by then and the photo stylist guy had arrived.
"I'm Raul," he announced, as if Jon should know who he was.
"Er⦠Jon."
Raul stared at Jon for several long moments. Alarmed, Jon stared back.
"That dragon ring you're wearing â I love it," Raul stated.
Jon could tell he didn't love Ophelia, and from the tingling sensation she sent through his finger, so could she.
"It's so⦠mysterious," Raul continued. "Does it come off?"
Although Jon could have removed Ophelia, he wasn't in a cooperative mood anymore. "No. Neither does the ankh."
Raul wasn't fazed a bit. "Well, we'll go with it, then. Your jeans will work, too."
He sorted through a rolling rack of men's clothes and handed Jon a black leather jacket.
"What about a shirt?" Jon asked.
"No shirt," he said. "Let's go bare underneath the jacket."
"Let's not. I'll use the shirt I came in with."
After an exasperated sigh, Raul found Jon a crisp white shirt. "Leave it unbuttoned."
Despite Raul grumbling to Fawn, Jon left only the top three buttons undone. The stylist crossed the studio to tell Lenny that Jon was ready. The photographer was tinkering with backgrounds and lighting, but he motioned Jon over. Lenny posed Jon on a large wooden cube against a gray canvas backdrop. Fawn and Raul stood by, ready to repair the slightest sheen on Jon's complexion or remedy a clothing mishap.
After Lenny got going, it took another hour for him to be satisfied with the photos. Jon dressed in his own clothes afterward, relieved it was over. Before he left, Lenny handed him one of the instant photographs he'd printed out to check the lighting.
"You can keep this, if you like. Souvenir."
As he stared at the photo, Jon was taken aback. The kid in the photo was glossy, handsome, and soulful. "That's not me."
Lenny laughed. "Jon, the photo represents the best of you. Plus,
that
kid will help draw people into the art exhibit."
Unconvinced, Jon thanked Lenny, Raul, and Fawn and left the studio. The whole photo session had taken far longer than he'd anticipated, and into the dinner hour. He drove home with his stomach growling, hoping his mother had saved him something to eat. Fortunately she'd held the meal later than usual and the family was just sitting down when he rolled in.
"Hi. Thanks for waiting."
He slid into his chair, bowed his head, and waited for the blessing. When his father remained silent, Jon glanced up to discover his entire family gaping at him. Sela's mouth actually hung open.
"Look, I'm sorry I'm late," Jon said. "I had no idea the photographer was going to take so long."
"You're wearing
makeup,"
Sela said. "And your hair is all⦠fussy."
"I know." Jon reached into his pocket for the instant photo and tossed it to her. "Stupid, huh? And if you tell anyone about the makeup, you're toast."
His mother and father came around the table so they could see the photo.
"You look quite handsome, Jon, but the museum has gone to a lot of trouble for a publicity shot," his mother said.
"Yeah, I think someone made a mistake," Jon said. "They had a hair and makeup lady and a clothes guy just for me. I'm pretty sure Ted Duell is going to hit the roof when he gets the bill."
Sela curled her lip at the photo. "It doesn't even look like you. You look like a movie star."
"I think that's the whole point," Dr. Hansen said.
"What do you mean?" Jon asked.
"I've heard attendance is down at the museum," he replied. "Maybe Ted Duell thinks glamorizing the artists will get people interested in seeing the exhibit."
Jon peered at him. "But the exhibit is about the art, isn't it?"
"Apparently not."
Suddenly seized by doubt, Jon gulped. He'd wanted to raise his profile, not make a fool of himself. "Seriously, how stupid do I look in that photo?"
His sister snickered. "Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies."
"You don't look stupid at all, sweetheart. You're dazzling," Mrs. Hansen said. "We're just not used to seeing you this way."
"We might need to hire you a bodyguard for preview night," Dr. Hansen joked.
"That's actually not a bad idea," Jon's mother said.
"
What?
" he sputtered.
"As it turns out, Sela's school play is on the same night as your preview," Mrs. Hansen said. "Your father and I promised to attend."
"I'm the Dodo Bird, and I get to go extinct right on stage," Sela chirped.
"Oh, no, I wanted to see your play," Jon said. "I'm really sorry."
"It's okay, the principal is taping the show," Sela said. "You'll owe me ten bucks for the DVD, and you have to take me to the mall next time I ask."
"I'm going to ask Chaz to drive you to the preview," Jon's mother said. "If you're giving interviews, I want your lawyer there looking out for you."
Uncle Charles â or Chaz, as he was sometimes known â was a JAG attorney. If his mother had suggested anyone other than him as a bodyguard, Jon would have vetoed it. As it was, he welcomed his uncle's company. Since Charles was only about ten years older than Jon, he'd always been more like an older brother than an uncle.
"That would be cool," Jon said.
Sela waved the instant photo in the air. "Can I take this to school tomorrow for show and tell?"
Jon, Mrs. Hansen, and Dr. Hansen spoke in unison.
"
No.
"
****
Instead of heading to Dragon Isle Friday afternoon, Jon stayed at school for a few hours to work on his homecoming dance mural. When he was satisfied with his progress, he drove home to grab some dinner and pack up his schoolwork. Then he transported to Dragon Isle for the weekend.
When he arrived much later than usual, Jon sort of hoped everyone would assume he was late because of his active social life. To his surprise, Max wasn't there, and neither were Brett or Kira. In fact, the only one at the fire pit that night was the fourteen-year-old Owl Clan wizard, Finn.
Jon was befuddled as he lowered himself into the circle. "Did I miss something?"
"Master Quixoran gave everyone over seventeen turns an allowance, and they all went to Yrth for the evening. I myself have only just returned from dinner with my family at Castle Igneous," Finn said. "Nobody asked me if I wanted to go to Yrth."
Crestfallen, Jon suddenly felt like he had the word LOSER stamped on his T-shirt. Nobody had clued him in on their plans, either.
"Great." He forced a smile to his lips. "Gives me a chance to get some homework done."
****
Spirits were high the next morning at breakfast, and apprentices were even humming. Inwardly, Jon wanted to barf, but he pretended to be in a good mood too. He wasn't quite sure why he was so annoyed, but it might have had something to do with the fact Kira had gone out the last two Friday nights and neither time had been with him.
It's my own fault, isn't it?
I can't put off asking her to go to the dance any longer.
He exchanged a smile with Kira across the table and silently vowed to ask her out
when they were alone, no matter what. Never having attended a homecoming dance, Jon wasn't sure if it was too early to line up a date. For all he knew, it was too late.
Max mentioned the apprentices had all gone to the movies the night before, to a new release called
Immortal Soule
. "It was pretty good if you like vampire flicks," he said. "I would've preferred an action movie."
"I haven't been to a movie in ages," Lora said. "It was so much fun."
"I understand we have
you
to thank for the new allowance, Jon," Linda said.
"Yeah, Dorsit sold a bunch of the gems you gathered and brought Master Quixoran the money," Mo said. "Thanks, Jon."
"You're welcome, but it was kind of a team effort between Max and me." Jon dropped his gaze to his oatmeal, feeling more and more left out as the morning wore on. He felt Kira's eyes on him.
"I wish you could have gone with us," she said. "It wasn't nearly as much fun without you."
His mood lifted. "I'm sorry I missed it. I volunteered to work on the homecoming dance decorations and I was painting last night."
"Ooh, tell us what you're doing," Brett said. "It's bound to be wonderful."
"The theme is tropical and the dress is luau." A grin sprang to Jon's lips. "I can't tell you more than that. You'll have to wait and be surprised like everyone else."
"This dance is going to be terrific," Brett gushed. "A lot of us will be there. Max and I are going together."
"Really? That's terrific," Jon said.
"When I heard about the homecoming dance, I talked Casey into taking me," Mo said with a wink. "Even though I graduated already."
"Fred got down on his knees and begged me to go," Ronny joked. "What could I do?"
The strained expression on Kira's face lanced Jon's heart.
She feels bad that I haven't asked her yet!
Max seemed to notice the same thing because he caught Jon's eye and gave him a hard stare.
"How about you, Jon?" he prompted. "You asked anyone yet?"
That's my opening.
"I was hoping to take Kira," he blurted out. "If she wants to go."
His invitation seemed to have the opposite effect from what he'd intended. If anything, Kira looked even more wretched.
"I'm sorry, Jon, but I've already asked Davy Thyssen to take me," she said.
Jon flinched.
What?
His heart thudded so hard he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. Kira had already asked someone to the dance. Somebody cool. Somebody else.
Somebody who isn't me.
Stunned, he struggled to keep his expression neutral. Worse, the whole table had fallen silent. Everyone except perhaps for Brett knew how he felt â truly felt â about Kira. They'd all watched him fall apart after the Fox Clan battle when he'd thought she was dead. All his hopes in her direction had just been dashed on the rocks, and he had no choice but to suck it up. Jon left his spoon in his bowl and reached for his cup of water with an unsteady hand.
"I've never hung out with Davy Thyssen, but I'm sure he's a great guy," he managed. "I guess whoever I take is going to be a surprise."
I'll contract a sudden case of dengue fever, or maybe I can convince Fred's dad, the police chief, to lock me up for the night. Either way, I'm not going to the dance, no matter what.
"I love surprises," Brett said.
Someone must have kicked Brett under the table because she squeaked and fell silent.
As Jon twisted in the wind, Quixoran cleared his throat. "Might I have a word, Jon?"
A flood of gratitude washed over him. "Yes, sir."
His breakfast was only half-eaten, but he wasn't hungry anymore. Jon pushed back from the table and followed his grandfather into the tree house. As soon as they were alone, Quixoran laid a hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right?"
"No," Jon admitted. "Was it that obvious?"
"Perhaps only to me."
"I doubt if I fooled anyone." Jon slumped down on a stool, forlorn. "Have you ever cared about a girl who didn't feel the same way?"
"More times than I would like to remember, and I know how much it hurts."
"I feel like somebody hit me with a punishment spell.
"
"Why don't you take the morning off?" Quixoran suggested. "You can use some field training. I'm sending you to Dragon Village to offer your wizardly assistance with anything they might need. The children always enjoy seeing you and I'm sure they could use more toys."
His emotions in a maelstrom, Jon wasn't thinking quite clearly. "Toys? I don't have any toys."
"You have your sketchpad, do you not?"
"Oh, yeah. Of course."
"And Jon, with women it's often a question of timing. Try to have a sense of perspective. You're only seventeen after all."
Jon nodded, but he barely heard his grandfather's words.
Kira Szul prefers a star athlete to a homecoming decorations volunteer.
In the midst of a full-blown case of self-pity, he didn't much feel like being logical, reasonable, or even fair.
"Do you mind if I transport from here? I'd just as soon not talk to anyone right now."
"Go ahead. And try to have a little fun."
Jon hesitated a moment. "Thank you, Grandfather. Thanks for understanding."