Pictures of You

"May I ask what you are doing here?" Kris' lips tilted to give a tiny smile. This was it, I was busted. I was going to be drug away in handcuffs for stalking or something. How was I so stupid to take on a celebrity couple? Why didn't I think that maybe I could get caught? What if Marc-André doesn't even play here? What if they are both just some overzealous lunatics who love hockey.

My mind was rushing and I was starting to feel queasy, "Um, I-I'm taking the engagement photos for Marc-André and Vero." I gave a nervous smile, silently hoping he would believe me. To my surprise, he started laughing. A deep laugh, that eventually became annoying the longer I heard it.

"Really? Rink side engagement? Priceless." He finally choked out. Queasiness aside, I was slightly angry. I didn't take my photography as a joke and I didn't want anyone else to either.

Kris picked up on my tense demeanor and his smile faltered slightly, "Hey, I didn't mean to offend you, I am sure the pictures are lovely." His voice came with an accent I hadn't noticed before. I shyly nodded, trying to decipher this situation. Was I going to be arrested or what?

"Well, you looked like you were walking down, would you mind if I walk with you?" There it was, the go-quietly-and-we-won't-hurt-you-too-bad. I figured that letting him walk me down would be three times less embarrassing than being handcuffed, but still embarrassing all together. I nodded again and we descended the stairs, walking close enough for me to feel the fabric of his T-shirt on my skin.

There were more stairs than I remembered and by the time we were almost to the rink my asthma was blazing through my lungs. I would have reached for my inhaler, but I was sure that I would get a drug charge for that. So I settled on slightly bending my waist. It was enough to relieve the aching in my neck from the camera and it quieted the labor breathing I had to do.

"Oh! There you are!" Vero yelled from the rink as we came to a stop outside it. Her and Marc-André were skating around each other, occasionally skating over to the other for a kiss.

"I see you met Kris, dear. Kris is one of Marc-André's team mates." I looked up to the man beside me, my cheeks red. I hoped no one here could read minds. Or facial features. I felt ignorant for thinking Kris had been a guard, I was sure hearing such things might have offended him. The acidic taste in my throat was burning again and I could feel the rotation of the Earth. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

"Kris, qu'avez-vous fait à la jeune fille?" I heard Vero ask with a concerned tone as she came to a stop, Marc-André did the same a second later. My peripheral vision noticed the slight flinch Kris gave when he looked down at me.

"Je n'ai rien fait. Elle courut en moi et j'ai demandé de venir avec elle. Elle apparaît en vert. Etes-vous d'accord?" Guessing by his body language the last sentence was for me. I felt my cheeks burn and I'm
"I-uh, don't speak French." I answered, feeling the acid raise higher with each word.

He gave a knowing nod and translated himself, "Are you okay?" Vero and Marc-André waited for a reply.

I gave a nervous laugh, "Oh, yeah I'm peachy. I have a class later," Lie. "I'll get your pictures to you within the week, okay?" I asked, slipping my camera off my neck.

Vero gave me a smile and placed her hand on Marc-André 's chest, "That'd be great." I nodded and smiled awkwardly before giving them a quick goodbye, yet again mentioning that I would have the pictures within the week. I was just about to leave the rink when I turned to Kris. "Uhm, sorry I ran into you." He gave me a smile and a simple "no problem". I smiled back and proceeded to walk out the doors.

I knew it was wrong for me to lie, but the embarrassment was aching and I felt if I didn't sit down I would vomit all over their fancy shoes. That would totally win me the Photographer of the Year award. The aching was fading with the more steps I took.

Soon I was outside walking towards my rinky-dinky car. A sore thumb flanked by a shiny black Mercedes and a silver Aston Martin. It was just as I left it, minus broad shadow leaning against the hood.