“I should be,” I told Tenshi as she tickled my eyelids with a makeup brush. “I spend most of my time in my soccer uniform or my workout clothes. And for school, I usually just wear shorts, a T-shirt, and flip-flops.”

I guess I never really thought about it, but if I was being paid to wear fitness clothes for a modeling shoot, my soccer uniform—and even my shorts and T-shirts—would be considered fashion too!

As Tenshi finished my makeup and started working on my hair, I told her all about Zoe. “She’s totally into all different kinds of clothes,” I said. “She’s always wearing the latest styles and mixing and matching patterns and colors. If I tried to do that, I’d look like a clown. But Zoe always looks like she stepped out of a magazine.”

“Next time, you should bring her along with you,” Tenshi said. “She’d probably love seeing behind the scenes, and it sounds like she has the makings of a great stylist.”

“That would be fun!” I said as Tenshi pulled my hair into a long ponytail. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of that before. Tenshi and Zoe would get along great!

“I’d love to try some other looks with your hair. It’s so pretty,” Tenshi said wistfully. “But for activewear, ponytails are the go-to hairstyles.”

I couldn’t help but look at myself in the mirror after Tenshi had finished. I really liked the way she made me look. Tenshi made it seem so easy, but I wouldn’t have known where to start. It would be nice if she lived in our house; I could look like this every day for school, I mused. I needed to pay more attention to how Tenshi did my makeup, although it was kind of hard because my eyes were closed most of the time. I wouldn’t mind learning a few tricks. I don’t know if it’s something I’d want to do every day, but if the mood struck me, I wanted to be prepared.

I went behind the privacy screen to change into the workout outfit: long leggings in a tropical floral-print pattern with a matching sports bra. The sneakers were pink and gray, and not really a shoe I’d ever use to work out. They were more about fashion than function, and pretty flimsy, with not much arch support. But I reminded myself that this wasn’t an athletic match, and I was selling the outfit, not the shoes.

When I walked back into the studio area, the girl who looked like Sabine nodded to me.

“Hey,” she said. “I’m Crystal.”

“Devin,” I said.