Settle the Score / Hustle Play

Chapter Four | Ready, Aim, Shoot

Shoot day, one week later.

As Kevin Chan, our photographer for the day, showed Chris Barcelo and me several photo pegs for the shoot, I started to panic. The poses looked so... intimate. Like a set of basketball-themed pre-nuptial photos.

My anxiety might have been palpable because Avenida’s star player gently pulled me to the side and gave me a quick pep talk. He said something about being comfortable with him and trusting him. Maybe something about listening to the photographer’s instructions too. I wasn’t so sure. The damn studio lights behind Chris made him glow like an otherworldly being, and it became difficult to focus on two things at a time.

A beat later, Chris’ fingers were wrapped firmly around my wrist as he tugged me toward the studio floor.

“Relax,” Kevin said. “This is a piece of cake.”

No shit, I cursed in my head. This might be a walk in the park for Chris, who has been doing this since he was a rookie—but me? Have they seen my action shots from news articles?

Kevin started us off with something relatively easy. “Play ball,” he said as his assistant tossed Chris a basketball. In the small space provided, Chris and I pretended to play against each other. I dribbled the ball and Chris tried to steal it, and vice versa. I took an imaginary shot and Chris tried to block it, and then we switched roles. Because it was something I was used to doing, it came to me naturally.

But when we began with the couple-y poses, I grew stiff. One of these required Chris to “hug” me from behind, attempting to steal the ball in my hands. It should look like we were playfully fighting over the ball, but I must’ve looked so awkward that Kevin couldn’t find a nice shot in all thirty or so clicks I’d heard. I worried he was getting exasperated even if he was still being so nice about it.

“Pretend I’m telling you a joke,” Chris said, his voice in my ear sending good shivers down my spine. We were still posing for the camera.

“What joke?”

“Any joke. What do you find funny?”

Thoughts of Charles filled my head. One way or another, the two of us were able to find humor in anything and everything if we wanted to. Like his tight cheer outfits I teased him about or those unfortunate game photos of myself on Internet articles looking like I’d dozed off, snoring, while taking a midair jumper. Sometimes we laughed over the most trivial things, leaving Justine and Colby scratching their heads and wondering if we were still sane.

I let out a soft laugh.

“Yes, Ms. Figueroa? Mind sharing it with the class?” The amusement in Chris’ voice was unmistakable.

“I just remembered the silly things my friend and I laugh about all the time.”

“That’s great!” Kevin called out. Both Chris and I turned our heads toward him. “No, no. Carry on.” His hands motioned for us to keep going. “You’re looking more natural, you’re getting it!”

From that point on, everything felt easier. We talked and joked around as we shifted to more poses. I realized then that Chris was as goofy as he was charming. I couldn’t stop laughing with him until after we were done.

“Hey, how about that—we make a great team!” Chris mused aloud as we checked the photos on Kevin’s laptop. The photographer agreed and made a comment about how some of the shots were cover-photo material.

I smiled. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Chris held his hand up near my face, and I stared at it dumbly for a few seconds before raising my own hand for a weak high five. He laughed and egged me on. “Oh, come on, Figueroa, you can do better than that!” His hand was still raised, though I could tell he was steeling it for a harder slap.

I obliged. He shook his hand in the air loosely afterward, but he continued laughing. “Knew you had it in you. Ouch.”

Kevin thanked us for our time and shook our hands before letting us go. On the way back to the holding rooms, Chris asked if I wanted to have lunch with him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, why not? You’re my magazine girlfriend now, and your magazine boyfriend wants a date.”

Good lord. Are those butterflies in my stomach?