Model Photos

Miles was waiting at the corner of the parking lot when he saw Ramona crawling along the railing towards him. He walked over with Ramona looking up as he approached. She let go of the fence to wave, causing her to lose her balance and fall. Miles was beside her in a flash, saving her from hitting the ground.

"Thank you," she mumbled as they helped each other up.

"No worries, ready to go to work?"

Ramona nodded, and Miles continued helping her along the rest of the rail, through the parking lot to the back door. He opened the door and the teenagers shuffling inside. She took off her scarf, releasing hair in a static mess, standing opposite the way it usually fell. Miles held in his laughter as he released his hair from his beanie. The messy curls were flattened by the beanie except for the ends that curled around where the beanie once sat. Ramona looked up at Miles as she finished shaking out her coat and scarf, smiling as she noticed his new hair. They both walked to the breakroom, ignorant about their respective hair.

They stopped as they saw Anita was on break, rearranging pictures on the table. It must have been a regular thing because Ramona continued to the girls’ changing room. Miles leaned over to get a better look at the pictures, noticing they were all of hands.

They turned their heads at the sound of a squeak from the girls’ changing room. Anita looked around, realizing there were more people in the room than her.

"Oh, Miles, I didn't see you there," apologized Anita as she began gathering the photos.

"No, don't mind me."

Anita looked up at Miles as if checking whether he was alright with it before she began setting the pictures down again.

"They're very nice photos," he complimented, picking one up.

"I use them to help me compare," she stated, holding up her hand alongside the picture Miles held. There were no similarities between the hand in the photo and Anita's marked palm.

"Nothing on this one." He set the picture back down and Anita nodded before comparing her hand to another image. Miles helped her sort through the photos; both looked up when the girls’ changing room door opened. Ramona peered out, her hair still twisted the opposite way. She placed her arms around her hair, forcing it back to her head as she walked out of the breakroom.

"Did you both get your hair done?" asked Anita.

"No, Ramona has static frizz from her scarf."

"I see, and is your hair also suffering from static frizz?"

Miles' face contorted into an expression of confusion as he looked around for a mirror.

"There's a mirror in the bathroom or the girls’ changing room."

Miles nodded, running off in the direction of the bathroom. He passed Shasta, who turned to look as he passed by, then headed into the breakroom.

"What's with everyone's hair?" asked Shasta as he took a seat opposite Anita and her pictures.

"Miles said something about static frizz."

"Ramona, possibly, Miles, I don't know what to call his."

Shasta glanced down at the table.

"Still working on that?"

Anita’s eye twitched at his tone but her composure remained calm.

"It could help. You never know what kind of handprints you'll miss."

"Not that it matters since your soulmate isn't any of these pictures."

Anita puffed out her cheeks at him, looking more like a squirrel than actually angry. She started gathering the pictures up.

"Where's Ramona and Miles? Shouldn't they be on the clock right now?" asked Oliver, popping his head into the breakroom.

"Hair malfunction," commented Shasta, looking at the window instead of the frustrated Anita.

"You brought your hand pictures?" asked Oliver, searching through the images.

"This one is great, you got good lighting here," complimented Oliver, causing Anita to pause.

"Really?"

"Of course. Artist's eye! Don't you agree, Shasta, that her pictures are improving."

"I'm not an artist."

"Cook, artist, we both create."

"I follow the restaurant's recipe book."

Oliver frowned.

"But her pictures are improving," Shasta said, relenting.

"See, artist's honor," echoed Oliver.

"Even though her time would better be spent taking pictures of anything other than hands."

Both Oliver and Anita frowned at Shasta.

"Um, Anita," whispered Ramona as she entered the room, her hair wet but back in place. "where's my place today?"

"Right! We need to get back to work," remembered Anita as she took the pictures to the girl's changing room.

"Let me show you." Anita led Ramona out of the breakroom, leaving Oliver and Shasta.

"Take a hint already. I was trying to help you out of the hole you were digging."

"I didn't ask for your help."

"But you need it if you are going to get her to like you."

"If she likes me, it needs to be for who I am, including my blunt honesty, and not because of some fabrication in her head."

Oliver sighed.

"Please learn some tact then."

"I'll consider it."