How You Get the Girl

Chapter One: Jennifer Goodwin

"Rose…"

The girl muttered, glaring at the finger-length tubes of lip color accusatorily,

"Or…Crimson?"

A sudden rap on the door startled Jennifer Goodwin out of her impossible decision. Scattering the array of brushes across the vanity, she hastily made for the door- stubbing her toe against the metal bed-frame.

Barking out a curse, she unlatched the door of the trailer, ready to tell off whoever it was that they should really consider pissing the hell off and stuffing their heads up their-

She blinked. And might have melted a little.

The ache in her toe dulled as she beheld the remarkably endearing smile of Cameron Ventura- beads of water clinging onto dyed black lashes. He was giving her that crooked half grin- the kind she had come to realize was reserved only for his close friends- and the annoyance drained out of her with one swell twist of her stomach.

Like a toilet.

She snorted.

“Well you look absolutely drenched- what'd you do this time- propose in the rain?”

Jennie watched his face redden and raised her eyebrow as he reached up to mess with his hair- an expression, she knew, that meant he was flustered. Avoiding the question entirely- he asked her one of his own- nearly giving her a heart failure.

"Loretta said you needed to see me?"

Her features had rearranged themselves into an expression of alarm- cheeks heating up as she attempted to talk her way out of a forgotten lie. Well it wasn't entirely a lie, not really- she needed to see him. Just.. less professionally.

"Oh…right" she floundered, "U…h...Well... I- I think you might have left something. Why don't you come in- I think it's here somewhere. I might be able to find it…?"

She turned and marched off inside, looking for something- anything that she could pass off as his.

“Don't bother-" he reassured– even as he accepted her invitation and shuffled behind her lithe frame, stooping a little, "I can't tell where half of my stuff is anyway…"

She quickly pulled up the chair before the vanity to allow him a seat and hastened to her draws to find a towel that wasn't too covered in foundation. He sat obediently as she brandished the towel and then proceeded to lightly dab at his face.

"Now" she squinted at him, watching the mid-morning light from the small, makeshift windows dance in his caramel eyes- "care to tell me what all this is about?"

"We shot…..rain…confession…scene….ver…very…wet"

She coughed out a laugh – even as her stomach lurched with butterflies. Ah. This scene. She hadn't heard the specific details but if the excited whispers at the main dressing rooms were to be believed then she was rather glad she'd chosen to sit this one out.

Public displays of affection made her nervous.

Tossing the towel aside, Jennie pulled the foundation brush that held her hair in place, loosening the golden curls that fell around her shoulders and down her back. Sweeping up a palette from her ever dusty bed- she lost herself in subtly enhancing his face.

The tanned forehead, the straight pane of his nose, the angled line of his jaw.

They had done this many times- although it took a few first hilarious, butterfly infested tries. Color rose to her pale cheeks as she remembered the first time she had been asked to do his makeup- his hair had been butterscotch then, and her fingers had been trembling.

"So…" she attempted to make comfortable conversation, her brush tracing light patterns on his cheeks. He cracked one eye open. "…anything interesting happen?"

Jennie could have sworn his cheeks were tinged a little pinker. The eyelid fluttered back down. "Nope."

Her suspicions were confirmed when his blush didn't fade. A smirk laced its way into her lips, eyebrow quirking as she attempted to worm the truth from him.

"That's good" she tossed out flippantly, "so the rumors weren't true after all."

His ears perked up and she had to stifle a smile as he begrudgingly muttered- "…what rumors?" eyes stubbornly shut.

"Oh you know…the usual…" she sounded bored, "They're finally bringing someone in to replace Madison…Clarke is secretly gay….Cameron Ventura has a thing for exotic, dark haired beauties named Ivanna Vankova…."

He blanched at the last one.

Choking on his saliva- Cam cleared his throat, a coughing fit starting up with no end. Startled she hastened to grab a plastic bottle of water- shoving it to the 27 year old boy with a curt “Drink.”

He forced down the water- lightly muscled chest inhaling deeply once his choking eased. Watching him with quiet disbelief- Jennie knotted her fingers together, working up a sound scolding as both their pulses returned to normal.

He slouched against the chair finally- container emptied of water and took in her worried face, giving her a halfhearted smile in return. "You're unbelievable" she snapped, a whole essay written in the back of her mind on the dangers of not breathing properly or something equally useless but was cutoff as a heavy thudding resounded throughout the trailer.

Exchanging glances, the duo blinked as a voice called out-

"….lo?....here?...looking for ….ameron…..Ventura?"

"I'm here" Cam croaked out- still recovering from his near death experience.

The thudding stopped.

"…Director….better get changed….shooting….dance scene… two minutes!"

Enough was decipherable that none of them really minded when the speaker left- a deafening silence hanging between them amidst the strawberry smell of her shampoo. After what seemed like forever, he rose from the vanity- giving her a 'sorry-I-don't-want-to-but-I-have-to-go' smile that left her heart in tatters.

She didn't realize that she had too had risen until she suddenly grabbed at his arm when he was nearly through the aluminum plated exit. Her freckled hands closed around his wrist and he glanced up at her, confusion flickering in his eyes.

“You don't… right?”

"….don't what?" he asked, brows furrowing, head tilted a little. She flushed scarlet and dropped his hand quickly, hating the words that tumbled through her lips.

"You don't…like her, do you?"

Ugh. She sounded like a cringey sixth grader.

Realization dawned on his face and he shrugged uncomfortably- suddenly very interested in the dirt smudged laces on his worn sneakers.

"No." her heart leapt even as her mind noted that he didn't meet her eyes when he said it. But she was willing to hold on to any chance- no matter how slim.

"Won't you come watch?" he was outside now- the sunlight glinting off his dark hair and ensemble- the parting remark tossed carelessly over his shoulder.

But he knew she wouldn't. And she knew it too.

Jennifer Goodwin smiled a small, sad smile just for herself and maybe a bit for her hopeless heart who had decided its home was the infatuated boy walking away from her with her invisible kiss on his lips.

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