When my alarm goes off at 6:00 A.M., it feels like the middle of the night. My room is pitch black. I haven’t woken up this early since … high school? Never? I try to sit up, but my body rejects it. I reach for my phone and press snooze. I can skip the jog. I’m not even sure I can jog. If I try I might have a heart attack and die. And I can’t die before Beau photographs me. I can die right after.

When my alarm goes off for the third time, I feel even worse. My body weighs a thousand pounds. But I have to do this. I hurl my body off the mattress and force myself to do a few jumping jacks to get my blood flowing. Lydia is staring at me, probably because she’s never seen me move so much. After just a few jumps, I am completely winded. I collapse back on my bed and text Beau.

Still on for 8?

I hurl my body off the bed again, then go to shower and turn on the cold water. It knocks the wind out of me, and I scream. I jump up and down in the shower until I can’t stand it anymore. Toweling myself off, I admire my reflection in the mirror. Today I am going to be before Beau’s camera.

I finally feel awake.

I check my phone. Yep, he had written back. I’ll pick you up at ten till.

I put a thumbs-up on the text. I find his use of “ten till” sweet and old-fashioned.

Luckily it doesn’t take me long to get ready. I comb my hair, taking care to make my middle part a perfectly straight line. I put on some mascara and then throw on my pink velour tracksuit.

Here, Beau texts.

I peek through the blinds and see a dusty Honda Accord on the street. Very aristocratic, I think, to drive an old Honda. Much more interesting than Thomas’s new money Volvo.

To my absolute shock, Beau gets out of the car and opens my door. I can’t believe it. No one has ever done this for me. Ever.

“A gentleman,” I say.

He shrugs.

This feels like a date, even though the plan is for him to objectify me before his lens. But isn’t that all dates? Being objectified? Have I ever been on a date?

In the car, he hands me a hot cup of coffee. “Black,” he says.

“That’s so nice,” I say. I’m feeling so taken care of. With Beau and Thomas and my father, I’m really thankful for the male gender these days, taking care of me even though they often embarrass and annoy me, although not Beau. Beau is perfect.