Halfway Perfect Read Online Free Page B

asks, I just reprimanded you and forced you to delete every one of those photos.” She winks at me before returning to work.
    I walk back toward the makeup and hair area. My footsteps seem overly loud. Then I realize most of the crew and models are glaring at me. My face heats up again, but I’m sort of relieved, because I know it’s my taking photos that’s gotten everyone hot and bothered, not my identity.
    There’s space to lean against the wall several feet behind Janessa. I set my bag on the floor, holding up my empty hands as if to say, I’m done, no more pictures . Then the room is in motion again. Several of the models return to whatever it was they were doing. Janessa and the producer are looking over pictures on the monitor while the intern girl scribbles notes furiously.
    I close my eyes for a second, taking in a slow deep breath. Today’s emotional roller coaster has already exhausted me and it’s only 11:00 a.m.
    â€œSo…?”
    My eyes fly open. “College Eve, right?” A blond-haired, blue-eyed model who’s practically the only person in the room not glaring at me is now in front of me, initiating conversation.
    â€œYeah, I guess,” I say.
    â€œI’m Finley.” Her hair is curled perfectly, her makeup a mask over flawless skin. She’s shorter than me. Probably only five seven or five eight. Not a runway girl like Elana and me. “I’m not in the least bit concerned about having my picture taken without authorization, but I prefer Instagram. Tumblr tends to add ten pounds.”
    I laugh. “No tweeting or tumbling, I promise. But I might send them to an old professor who loves to study human subjects in photos for a living.”
    â€œJust so long as you split the profits with me.” She bends down to smooth the hem of her dress, which has flipped upward. “You’re here for a school paper, right?
    â€œYeah, I’m writing about Janessa. She’s a former student of one of my professors.”
    â€œThat’s awesome. I’ve never heard of Janessa before today, but everyone here has been going on and on about how famous and important she is,” Finley says. “I’m just loving the fact that she hasn’t yelled at me, made me take my top off, or told me to suck in my gut. It’s nice to get direction that I can actually follow.”
    Unfortunately, I know exactly what she means. “Are you in college? Or high school?”
    I shift from one foot to the other, regretting the question. Finley watches me and grins. “It’s hard to tell with us girls, isn’t it? I just graduated in June, but I’m saving up before college. Hopefully only a year. It’s been a little depressing though. All my friends are off at school and call me to tell me about their roommates and dorm food and all that. I wish that’s what I was doing too. But you, you’re living that life.”
    â€œSure am,” I say. “Where do you want to go?”
    â€œI’ve always loved NYU. My parents met there. Can you imagine taking out four years of student loans for NYU tuition and with no high-paying corporate job planned?”
    Actually, I have calculated student loans for Columbia’s steep tuition, and I only got to adding five years of interest and payments before nearly passing out. “You’d have to be really passionate about your studies.
    She laughs really hard. “Exactly. Which is why I’m here. My dad says he’ll get a loan or figure out something, but I don’t want to put that burden on him. Not if I have a way to make my own money. What’s a year in the long run anyway, right?”
    Clearly we have very different families. Her dad wants to bend over backward for her, and my parents prefer to live on their daughter’s modeling checks.
    â€œWhere’s the perky blond girl?” Frankie shouts, turning slowly around the