BackWash (Editing & Completed)

Chapter 10: Those Moments

"Loosen up, Chase!" Sandy hollers as I stand beside Chase for the photoshoot. Both of us are angled toward each other, my hand planted firmly on his chest and his arm around my waist as per requested by our well-known photographer, Sandy Burns. She knows what she's doing.

The position between us, no doubt about it, is rather awkward considering our history and the prominent fact that we haven't been on good terms for years now. However, I manage to snap out of it and do what I have to do. I've always been great under pressure - one of my only positive characteristic traits: keeping a level head.

I naturally relax into Chase's tense side as if by familiar instinct from previous encounters of our past friendship. I lift my head high and stare slightly past the camera like a professional would do, putting on the most believable 'model image' I can manage. I strike a serious expressionless pose, completely blocking out the fact that Chase has me in his strong vice-like grip.

He, on the other hand, is stiffer than the current surfboard under my free arm. He's been clenching his jaw all the while since I got here. His arm around me is so firm that I feel like I'm suffocating. I can feel his fist drawn tightly against the side of my waist. His other hand is clutching onto his lucky and all time famous white surfboard with much force as if it's the only thing that's going to get him through this shoot.

"You tighten that arm around her anymore and you are going to squeeze the life out of the poor girl," Sandy lectures Chase with a perplexed look to her eyes. She's obviously confused as to why Chase is acting so out of character. She's must be unaware of our fall out - most are.

Chase grunts in response, a little despondent, as his hold on me loosens. He'd love it if he could squeeze all the life out of me. His fist uncurls before his hand rests flat against my waist, his warmth engulfing me as I'm lulled further into him. I kind of miss this, miss him.

It's been a while since I've felt Chase's hand on my waist and though the situation it's highly uncomfortable, I don't let it show in the way that he's so clearly doing. He's so tense that it starting to make me a little nervous. He's putting me on edge. I'm used to the overconfident Chase that automatically puts others at ease, not the anxious Chase that makes everyone in a nearby radius feel uneasy.

"You're doing great, Gabriela," Sandy tells me with a smile, encouraging me all the more before she turns to frown at Chase. "What is wrong with you? You're acting so uptight? You never behave so unprofessionally in photoshoots. Whatever is bothering you, I suggest you get a grip before I give more thought into taking you out this month's shoot."

Chase is literally giving off strange vibes. Waves of fear and anxiety are radiating off him like dark smoke from a burning fire.

"You wouldn't have a job it wasn't for my first international photoshoots two years back that made you rich, so I suggest you shut the hell up, Sandy, and be damn well grateful. I made you." Chase hisses bitterly, his anxiety clear in his voice.

What is his problem?

Sandy rolls her eyes before mouthing the word 'cocky' to me. I smile slightly at her and nod, aware of just how cocky Chase can be. I don't know how Sandy deals with him. She must have a ton of patience to put up with his arrogance.

I remember when Chase, back at our old tree house, had said to me that I made him. I'm not exactly sure how to take that. Did I make him who he was then or who he is now? I'm probably responsible for both sides of him - the past 'happy-go-lucky' him and the present grumpy him.

Sandy motions me closer to Chase, "Gabriela, Darling, move your hand up higher. That angle is all wrong. Don't let Chase set you off. You're doing fantastic!" I listen to her as I adjust my hand and slowly trail it up to his chest a little higher. "Perfect! Right there." Sandy quickly halts my movement as my hands rest in the spot she wants.