When Kylie Johnson's temperamental, ominous, and overprotective older brother continuously ruins her love life, she decides to permanently eliminate the word 'love' from her vocabulary.
But when her ex, Julian Davis, returns to her life with a treme...
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A few hours pass by.
Scarlett and I return to the dance floor. The song changes to Photograph by Ed Sheeran and Scarlett and I erupt in quiet squeals.
I never knew that Nana had good taste.
We hold each other's hands and move our bodies along the beat, mouthing the lyrics.
"Photograph!" I widen my eyes, realizing something.
"Yes, it's our jam," she chuckles, twirling around with me.
"No, I need to photograph!"
"But it's our jam," she pouts.
"If I don't photograph my Nana will make sure to die after me so that she has the chance to scold me until my death."
She sighs, crossing her arms across her chest. "Fine. I'll just go ask one of your cousins to come dance with me."
"You don't want to do that," I advise as I shake my head, widening my eyes slightly.
"I'm sure they're not that bad," she says, waving her hand dismissively.
I chuckle sarcastically. "Good luck then."
She rolls her eyes at me and then heads to one of my aunts' table where several teens are seated.
I walk to my family's round table and squat next to mom's seat. "Mom."
She turns her head around and smiles. "I was just about to send Matt to give this to you."
My camera bag appears in her hands and she gives it to me.
"Thanks," I say, receiving it.
I scurry my way back to the dance floor and find my sixteen-year-old cousin, Bianca, dancing normally with Scarlett and some other cousins.
My jaw falls open in surprise. Scarlett actually did it.
Bianca is my aunt Cremilda's daughter and she's the bitchiest snob in my family.
Last Christmas she stole Nana's diamond necklaces and I had to be the unfortunate person to catch her.
She's not only a bitch but a thief too.
I hear the word 'photograph' again and push away my perplexed thoughts, deciding to continue my journey of photographing the ball.
I slide the camera wrap down my head and begin taking photos of some rooms embellished to perfection, and then snap another few of my grandparents' friends who are talking happily, with glasses of champagne in their hands.
After taking a good amount of pictures, I take a quick break and analyze each that I've taken, smiling as I notice how perfect they all are.
"You look like a professional," I hear Julian's voice so I turn around in surprise, a smile already on my face.
