Following Isaac (3 page)

"Why's he called New York Nicky if his name's Isaac or Ethan or whatever you said?"

"It's Isaac, and I don't know. He lives in New York, but I don't know about the Nicky part."

"Well, I'm not entirely sure he's worth all the trouble, but you can have that thirty-day trial thing if you want it," he said. "It's over there on the catch-all by the door."

Chapter 4

Isaac

My trip to L.A. was amazing. Shane and I were there for four days. The photographer was a guy named Alex Sanchez, and the campaign we were shooting was for a new Christian Dior fragrance. I'd never worked with him before, but the other models had and they told me going in that we'd have a lot of fun.

There were four other models on the job, (three girls and one other guy) and we all got along well. I'd worked with one of the girls in the past. Her name was Carly Powell. I text her a little bit once I figured out we'd be working together, and she told me we were going to have the most fun we've ever had in our lives. She was fuckin' right. We worked for two days, shooting the campaign on a private stretch of coastline in Malibu. It was literally how I imagined paradise. I loved New York, but could seriously get used to life on the California coast.

It helped that I was getting paid to hang out on the beach with a bunch of gorgeous girls. I'm not talking about just the models, either. There were sexy ladies everywhere. We had one for hair, makeup, wardrobe, and a few of them helping the photographer. Obviously, Los Angeles was crawling with beach babies, and I wasn't about to start complaining.

We had a couple of productive days of shooting, and on the last day, Alex wanted to play with different lighting, so we started shooting in the afternoon and went on through sunset. He picked up on the chemistry I had with Carly. He knew it was just because we were acquainted with each other previously, but he paired us together for the sunset shots. She and I went into the ocean up to our knees so we could splash some water on ourselves, then made our way back to the ankle-deep water. He asked us if we'd be comfortable kissing, and we both agreed without hesitation. I'd kissed girls in pictures more times than I could count, and had no problem whatsoever with kissing Carly.

He shot from the shore with the sun behind us. He did a few individual shots of all of the models before pairing Carly and I up. We kissed for about five minutes straight during the most beautiful part of the sunset. Alex and his assistants moved around us, fussing over our clothes and hair in an effort to land the perfect shot. Carly and I got along great and we had no problem turning it on for the camera. He took photos of the two of us for about ten minutes before the sun set and he called us back to the shore. Someone had built a huge bonfire a little ways down the beach, and the others had already made their way down there.

"I want to get a few by the fire," Alex said, on our way to join the others, "but we'll be done for the night after that. Did you decide if you're gonna stay at the house?"

It was a beautiful beach house owned by founder and CEO of one of the internet's largest retailers. It was his piece of beach we were standing on, and I honestly couldn't believe he offered to let the models use the house for the night. It was my last night in L.A. and it would have been foolish not to take him up on the offer. What could be better than partying on the beach before crashing in a billionaire's house? Of course we were staying. "Yes sir, Shane should be on his way with our bags…" I hesitated squinting past the fire to what looked like Shane's silhouette approaching. "That's my friend right there. He brought our bags and we'll just head to the airport tomorrow."

"Phil said he needs you guys out of here by noon. Is that a problem?" He glanced at Carly and I, and we both shook our head. She hadn't come right out and said she was staying, but I assumed she was and saying she could be out by noon confirmed it. Shane and the rest of the crew stood back as Alex did about thirty minutes worth of shooting by the fire. Carly sat on my lap for most of it since that's what Alex told her to do. The stylist gave me a blanket, which I wrapped around my shoulders. Alex talked me through a few poses where I wrapped my arms and the blanket around Carly. Her hair was still damp from the one's we'd just taken on the beach. She was the perfect little beach baby, and she stared at me in the firelight as if she really liked me. I had no problem keeping it professional with models, but I had no problem sleeping with them either—if the circumstance was right.

That's another reason I was glad Shane was there with me. He was an excellent wingman. The best. A true professional. He knew me well enough to know I didn't handle tears well, and took it upon himself to warn females about what they could expect.

That's exactly what he did when he saw that Carly didn't get off my lap—even when Alex said his goodbyes and most of the crew left. Shane found a spot near us, and the first thing that came out of his mouth was, "Hey, you good if he doesn't get your number or anything after tonight?"

Carly just stared at him with a confident half-smile. "He already
has
my number, but no, I don't expect him to use it." She cut her eyes at me. "I didn't say anything's happening tonight anyways."

I shrugged innocently and looked at Shane.

"I just assumed you might be sleeping in that house tonight, and I wanted to warn you that Isaac's not gonna call you or even remember your name in the morning."

"Is that how it is?" Carly asked, looking at me with a perturbed smirk. "You just have your boy tell the ladies you're only in it for the night?"

I scowled at Shane. "I didn't tell him to say that." It was part of the act. I loved it that he warned the ladies, but acted like I had no idea he'd say any of those things.

"Listen," Shane said. "I'm the one who has to deal with him on the way home, and I don't do drama. I don't let him get into anything that's gonna require work for me, and dealing with a sad lady the day after definitely creates work for me."

Carly gawked at Shane like she couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth, and then she looked at me, still slack-jawed. I took my finger and closed her mouth and she smiled. She scanned my face before lifting a shoulder in a slight shrug. "I'm up for hanging out," she said.

I smiled back at her. She was on my knee, which put her face higher than mine. She leaned down and kissed me in front of everyone. Shane made a disapproving noise when she did it, and said, "Don't say I didn't warn you."

She broke the kiss and looked over at Shane. "You need to relax," she said. "We're just having a little fun."

"No tears?" Shane asked, leveling her with a stare.

"No tears," she said. She looked down at me. "He's relentless," she whispered.

I rolled my eyes at Shane, but in my head I was thanking him, and he knew it. What's better was that those sorts of outbursts were a win-win for Shane and I. The other girls had overheard him talking to Carly, and they automatically took it to mean that the same rules applied to Shane himself. He was a good-looking guy. He was also into fitness, and like myself, had quite a few tattoos. Girls seemed to go for him, and they especially liked his tough-guy routine about no tears. Within the hour, we'd each had a few beers, and Shane had a girl of his own on his lap.

It was a perfect evening. There were about ten of us who partied at the beach before crashing at Phil's amazing house. It got a little crazy. I might have been with Carly and another girl at the same time, and by might, I mean I was. It wasn't something I did on a regular basis, but this happened to be a rare opportunity. Carly, along with a smokin' hot Korean model named Misha, were ready and willing to have some no strings attached fun, and who was I to refuse? Shane did his own thing, with one of the stylists from the shoot.

Before we took off to our separate bedrooms, Shane and I spoke about plans for the next day. We agreed to be up and dressed by eleven, but quickly lost track of each other after that.

I wasn't sure how his night went, but was glad to see him ready to go when I came into the kitchen the next morning. "You good?" he asked.

Someone was sleeping on the couch in the living room, so we both whispered as we spoke.

"Yeah. You?"

"I'm good. I got like six hours sleep."

"Me too," I said. "Maybe even seven."

"No tears?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Not in the slightest. They were up getting dressed when I left just now and they sent me away by each kissing one side of my face. I got a photo of it.

"I got a photo of something I did last night too," Shane said, "But I could get in trouble in most states if I post mine."

"I'm not posting mine either," I said.

"Why not?"

"Because they're half-dressed. It's obvious that it's a morning after photo. It's too much."

"Who doesn't want to imagine themselves in between Carly Powel and that hot Asian chick?"

"My female fans, that's who."

"They'll forgive you," he said. "You're posting it."

We'd been instructed to help ourselves to some breakfast before we left, so we grabbed a slice of quiche from the fridge. We quickly and quietly heated and ate it before packing some fruit for the road. We got to our gate over an hour early, and out of boredom, I went ahead and posted that hot girl sandwich photo on Instagram. Alex said he'd send me a few teasers from the photo shoot to post, but I didn't have them yet, and Shane said I'd be a fool not to post the one from that morning.

I scrolled through the most recent photos on my account… the ones from my trip to L.A. There was the one in the airport, then the one in the hotel bathroom, then a few from the beach where we were shooting. I looked at each of them, remembering the moment they were taken. They each came with their own set of memories, and I recalled what I'd been thinking at the time. I scrolled to the one I took in my hotel bathroom, and for some reason the encounter with the girl with yellow eyes came to mind as I looked at the picture. I thought back and realized that I'd just talked to her before I took that picture and she must have been on my mind at the time.

I couldn't remember what the girl looked like, but the eyes were such a striking color that the encounter stuck with me. I stared at it thinking it was funny that seeing a picture brought back random memories like that. Thinking about her made me curious about what she looked like. I remembered taking the picture of us, and wondered if she had posted it and tagged me in it. That's usually what girls did when I took a picture with them. All I had to do is check the photos I was tagged in and usually it was there. Out of curiosity, I did just that. I scanned the photos for a minute but didn't see any I thought was the one.

It didn't matter. I probably wouldn't have even remembered her if it hadn't have been for that hotel picture bringing back the memory of her eyes. I recalled the way she shook when she handed me her phone. I thought she was sweet, which made for a good start to a freaking amazing trip. It was a success on every level and I smiled as I stared at photos of some of the highlights.

"Dude, your Instagram's blowing up." Shane said. I refreshed the page and pressed the photo I'd just posted. There were already a hundred comments, and I just didn't have it in me to find out what they were all about.

"Aren't you gonna watch it explode?" he asked when he noticed me putting my phone into my pocket.

"Not really," I said.

"You're gonna get a thousand new followers from that post, I'll bet. You gotta be pretty boss to post your three-ways."

He was pushing my buttons and I elbowed him for it. He laughed, but then regarded me seriously.

"Can you believe the sexiness in Los Angeles?"

I looked up to smile at him from under my cap. "It's pretty sexy," I agreed.

"Oh my goodness, are you New York Nicky?" A lady asked as she approached. My hat was pulled down, and the collar of my shirt was adjusted where not a lot of my neck was exposed, but she still managed to recognize me. I patted the seat beside me and she came over. She looked to be in her thirties, with a round face and a smile that exposed all of her teeth. She introduced herself as Sabrina and I talked to her for a minute before taking a photo of us with her phone much the same as I usually did with fans. Shane checked my Instagram right after she left and showed me on his phone that my new friend Sabrina already posted and tagged me in the photo we'd just taken. I absentmindedly wondered why the girl at the hotel hadn't done the same.

Chapter 5

Becca

I wanted so badly to meet Isaac under different circumstances that it was easy to change my diet. I started doing that the instant I met him. It was amazing how little I cared about food once I was focused on my new goal. I knew I needed to get on a regular exercise routine, and I decided to try the place that Uncle Greg said had the thirty-day trial. He suggested that I call ahead and make an appointment to have someone show me around. I did, and had no trouble getting set up to start the very next day.

The whole time I was there, I had the distinct feeling that some people were just bred to go to the gym and stay in shape, and some people weren't—and I was someone who wasn't. Nobody was rude to me, but I didn't feel like I belonged there. Mark, the guy who'd been showing me around, was a clean-cut picture of fitness perfection, and it was really intimidating having his attention focused on me.

It wasn't bad at first, but after the tour he had me do a few exercises to help me experience what some of their strength and conditioning classes were like. Mirrors lined two of the four walls in the main gym, and I could clearly see my reflection while I was doing these workouts.

It was pretty mortifying. I'm sorry, but my body and fitted clothes were
not
meant to be friends. I had places that wiggled and jiggled with my every movement, and my clothes did
nothing
to help matters. I could see my panty line, my bra line, and what seemed like a thousand other lines. I stared at myself in the mirror thinking, "I have to do something about the way I look before I can step foot into this God-forsaken gym again."

Mark didn't act phased by my appearance, but I was
officially not okay with it
. I felt like I needed to lose weight before I could even think about coming back. I survived the introduction, but didn't make any promises about when I'd be back. I felt overwhelmed by how far I had to go to look like one of those spandex-wearing women who were all over the gym.

I called my mom right when I got in my car. She knew I'd decided to try to lose weight, but had no idea what (or who) my motivation was.

"Hey Becks," she said, answering the phone.

"Hey."

"Is everything okay?"

"I'm good. I'm just finishing up at the gym, and I'm feeling overwhelmed with how far I have to go."

"Slow and steady, baby. You can't expect things to change overnight. You have to just take one day at a time."

"I'm okay with that, I just don't know how many days I'll have to wait till I can set foot in a gym again."

She was silent for a few seconds. "What do you mean? Did something happen?"

"No. I mean, nothing bad happened. I just had to do some exercises and I looked unbelievably hideous in workout clothes."

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad."

"Trust me, it was. I don't feel like I look that bad in regular clothes, but in this stretchy stuff, I was jiggling around in places I never even knew I had. I literally saw rolls jiggling in the mirror when I moved."

"You should wear a girdle."

"Oh, gee thanks, Mom, that makes me feel a lot better."

"No, I'm serious. They call them something else now, but you can get things that will help hold everything in place."

"I'd need it to go from my neck to my knees."

"I think they make that."

"Seriously?"

"I think so. I've seen them in the lingerie section."

"It's called a unitard, I think."

"Yeah, there's no way I'm saying that word out loud."

"Just go to the lingerie section. It's by the bras and panties. Get one and try that under your workout clothes."

I was so desperate to get going on my goal that I turned around and went to a department store instead of going home.

I found the thing my mom was talking about right when I stepped foot in the lingerie section. There was a huge selection of them in various shapes and colors. Some covered the chest, some the waist and some the hips, but I went for the biggest, baddest mother-scratcher in the bunch. It was a thick piece of spandex that was basically a tank top hooked to a pair of biker shorts that looked capable of holding even the jiggliest of human beings in place. The only problem was, none of them were big enough. I looked around, thinking I was in some sort of dream. I wasn't
that
big, but it seemed these things were only made for super skinny people. I held one of them in my hand, squinting at the tag that read XXL, thinking
I must be in the kid's section
.

"Can I help you?" a lady's voice said. I was already feeling embarrassed and on edge, so I jumped.

"Oh, I'm just looking for something like this, I think, but it seems really small for a double X."

The woman grabbed the garment I'd been holding and gave it a good stretch demonstrating its flexibility. "They're meant to fit tightly."

"Yeah, it's just that usually, I'm an extra large, and I'm not even sure I could squeeze into this one." I gestured to the double X she was holding.

"It's fine to go a size up if you're not sure, but I think this one will do fine for you." She shook it so I would take it from her. "Is this the color you need?" It was black, and I figured I could just wear black clothes over it.

"I think it'll do," I said.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"I don't think so," I said. I tucked the piece of spandex, which was so thick it reminded me of a deflated inner tube, under my arm and went to the checkout. It cost almost fifty dollars, but I knew it'd be worth it if it worked. I tried it on as soon as I got home. It fit tightly, and was awkward and somewhat difficult to get on. It had an opening at the crotch, and I laughed at the thought of myself peeing without taking it off.

I put my workout clothes back on and stood in front of the full-length mirror on my shower door. I had to admit… the contraption helped slightly. It didn't make me thinner, necessarily, but the unwanted curves and pockets were smoothed out somewhat. I did a few jumping jacks in front of the mirror, and smiled when I didn't look like a big, wiggly hunk of Jell-O. I cocked my head to the side and concentrated as I shook my body, trying to test the effects even further. I felt a huge wave of relief thinking I might just be able to set foot in the gym after all. I continued my testing for the next minute or so, doing different movements including squats and running in place. I stood in the mirror, thinking that while I didn't look any smaller, I certainly looked better than I did before I put on the contraption.

***

By the time I'd been going to strength and conditioning class for a couple of months, I finally started seeing some results. I had a lot going on with work and starting back to school, but I made the effort to go to the gym at least three times a week, and had lost twenty pounds already. I was down to 170, and was feeling stronger than I'd ever felt in my life.

It was very rewarding to work out a muscle group, and then feel a noticeable difference in the way your body functioned because of it. Mark ended up being my trainer, and he was always extremely encouraging. The classes were different each time, which was probably the main reason I stuck with it. I knew other people liked it, but I couldn’t imagine doing something repetitive like running or biking. I never knew what class would be like, and that's what kept me coming to the gym. That, and the fact that I was really starting to notice changes.

I wasn't the only one. People were mentioning on a regular basis that I looked thinner and asked what I was doing to lose weight. Isaac Charles was still somewhere in the back of my mind, but it had been months since I ran into him, and somewhere during that time, my goal became more about me and less about him. That's not to say I would pass the chance to meet him once I got to my desired weight, but I honestly didn't have hopes of anything coming of it.

I continued to follow him on Instagram, so I saw his posts. He was a perfect male model who traveled the world hanging out with other perfect people. I'm sure I had no chance of penetrating those walls no matter how much weight I lost. At least that's what I told myself on a day like today when I decided to cheat.

"Why are you eating those?" Naomi asked when she came into my house one random afternoon in mid-August. I answered the door with a pack of Hostess chocolate cupcakes I'd bought from a gas station on the way home from work.

Most of my job was spent in hotels, but some of it was spent in the main office of the company I worked for. There was a girl named Bethany who worked in the office, and she'd been getting progressively meaner to me lately. I didn't know what I'd done to make her mad, but I hated conflict, and the friction I felt with her weighed heavy on my mind. She made a rude comment to me at the office earlier, and the cupcakes were meant to make me feel better.

"Bethany is so friendly to everyone else at the office and she treats me like crap," I said. "She's rude to me for no reason, and it really hurts my feelings."

Naomi screwed up her face like she was disgusted at the thought. "She's jealous."

I laughed a little, thinking Naomi was just saying what she thought I wanted to hear.

"No, I'm serious," she said. "Some people can't handle it when other people improve themselves. People will hold you down if you let them. There's a word for them."

"What?"

"Haters."

"I don't know how that applies."

"She's jealous that you're looking so good."

"You think she's being mean to me because I'm losing weight?"

"I'm not entirely sure because I haven’t met her, but it seems right."

"I just don't understand what she has to lose. Why would she care if I improve myself?"

"Haters don't see it like that. If she feels any direct competition with you, she'll try to hold you down. Believe me, if someone discourages you from reaching your goals, or makes you feel like some sort of show off, then they are not your real friend. They're just someone trying to hold you down."

"I never considered her a friend, but I certainly wouldn't think of her as the type who'd take pleasure in seeing me fail."

"You'd be surprised at how many people in the world take pleasure in seeing others fail. Unfortunately, they're everywhere. You have to ignore it."

I made a disappointed face. "It hurts my feelings that she doesn't like me. I never did anything to her."

"Well guess what, Beck…" Naomi grabbed the half-eaten cupcake out of my hand. "If you keep eating these and go back to what you were doing before, she'll be really nice to you again. If what you want is for some random nobody at your work to
like you
, then by all means, forget your goals, and go back to what you were doing. Because that's exactly what she wants you to do. You know that, right?"

I stared at her, trying to make sense of everything she was saying. I couldn't believe someone would be mean to me for trying to improve myself. I thought about it for a second and ultimately took some small pleasure in the realization that my efforts must actually be working.

"What are you smiling at?" she asked, taking the wrapper from me and stuffing the uneaten cupcake into it.

"I was just thinking that it kind of feels good to have a hater. I don’t think I've ever had someone be jealous of me before. Do you think that's seriously what it is?"

"Of course I do," she said. "Who could ever seriously be mad at you? You're like the sweetest person on the face of the earth."

"I'm not sweet enough to give up in order for her to feel better about herself."

"That's my girl," she said smiling. "You look amazing, by the way. I can really tell lately."

"Thanks. I'm starting to notice in my clothes, which is cool." I reached down and lifted my shirt. My pants, which had once been really tight, now hung loosely on my hips.

"Oh my gosh, you have to go shopping for some new clothes."

"I don't want to just yet," I said. "I still have about thirty-five pounds to go."

"These pants are never gonna last for another thirty-five pounds I'll see what I can dig up in my closet. I'll bet I have a few things that might work."

I'd never really been able to swap clothes with friends, and the thought of trying on her things and having them actually fit made me happy. "Thank you," I said sincerely.

She smiled at me. "I'm glad I caught you," she said, holding up the cupcake and giving me a reprimanding look.

"I can't believe I almost ate that," I said, thinking about how mad I was at Bethany for wanting to see me fail. Now I was primed and ready to do the opposite.