Sugar Berry
On graduation photo day, my boyfriend, Ethan Jones, takes more than 200 photos of Chloe Lloyd, the prettiest girl in our class.
As president of the photography club, he knows better than anyone how to find the most flattering angles.
Chloe stands beneath a tree and smiles at him. "Are you sure this isn't too much trouble?"
Ethan looks down and flips through the photos on his camera.
"Not at all. You look good no matter how I photograph you," he says gently.
When my turn comes, I clutch the hem of my skirt and walk over.
Ethan casually presses the shutter twice. "Done."
I stare at him. "That's it?"
He frowns at me. "You never look good in pictures anyway. Don't hold everyone else up."
I look at the two photos on his camera. My eyes are closed in one, and half my face is hidden in the tree's shadow in the other.
I ask him to take a few more, but instead, he puts up a post on the campus forum. "Photographer wanted. 20 dollars to snap a few graduation photos of my girlfriend."
Half an hour later, I receive a private message from an unfamiliar profile.
I send over my location, then say quietly, "Just so you know, I'm not photogenic."
The reply comes almost immediately. "Your photographer didn't know how to work with you."
After the shoot, he sends me the unedited photos.
I'm stunned when I see the photos. I never knew I could look this good on camera.
Even crazier, the photographer who took the job for 20 dollars seems to know what he's doing better than the president of the photography club.