"Okay, ready? And 3...2...1!"
The bright flash temporairly blinded us. Groaning and covering our eyes, Tamar asked, "Camera and camcorder? You didn't check did you?"
"Shut up," I said, studying the camera. "I could've sworn that it was on video..."
"Here," she said, holding out her hand for the camera. Reluctantly, I handed her the camera. "You think too much, Ari," she said. "There you go," she placed the camera back in my hand.
"Okay, let's try this again." I held the camera away from where Tamar and I sat on the bed. "Three...two...one!"
"Heeeey," we both said to the camera.
"Yes," I said to the camera. "We're taking video of ourselves. Why?"
"SENIOR YEAR BABY!" Tamar and I screamed.
"This is supposed to be the best year of our lives --" I began.
"Correction," Tamar said. "It will be the best year of our lives!"
"We are documenting this rite of passage so that even when our minds grow old, our bodies are frail with age, and --"
"Ari," Tamar said with a pointed look. "You're doing it again." Turning to the camera, she continued, "Dear Ari here is practicing. One day, she'll light up the stages of Broadway!"
"Hopefully," I muttered.
"Okay, enough for today," Tamar said. "Thanks for watching. God bless!" She reached to turn off the camera.
I turned to smile at her. "You're so cute," I said, grinning.
She smiled back, her crinkly eyed smile. "You're cuter!"
I laughed. "Are we really going to have a 'who's cuter?' contest?"
"It's not a contest if you know who's going to win."
My cry of mock outrage sent Tamar flying to get a pillow. She flew back to me, raising the pillow in an offensive mode. After we were tired from flinging pillows at each other, we went to the kitchen to grab something to drink.
"What time is it?" I asked.
Tamar pulled out her cell phone. "Four-thirty. I know, I need to go soon."
I shot an apologetic look at her. "Sorry."
"It's cool. I know your parents and the whole homework curfew thing." She grabbed her bag and walked towards the door. "See you tomorrow."