Fix

by Leslie Margolis

  “Oh my gosh. Let me see!” Hadley cried, jumping up and rushing over to her friend. She put a hand on each of Taylor’s shoulders and peered at her face.

  “What’s she looking at?” Cameron asked.

  Lucy shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Anyone notice anything different?” asked Hadley, placing her arm around Taylor and grinning like crazy.

  “Don’t tell them. I want to see if they can guess” Taylor said.

  Cameron had no idea what was going on. Neither did Ashlin or Lucy. Hadley had been clued in earlier and couldn’t stand the suspense. She cracked within seconds, blurting out, “Taylor just got permanent eyeliner tattoos.”

  Taylor’s features crumpled in disappointment, forehead wrinkled, mouth pursed, eyebrows scrunched. “I wanted them to guess,” she cried.

  “They were never going to. It’s way too subtle,” Hadley said.

  “Do you think I should have gone darker? My mom thought it would be a good base for every day, and this way I can always color over it.”

  Cameron moved closer and studied the thin ring of light brown circling each of Taylor’s eyes. The perfectly symmetrical lines got thicker toward the outside edges. “It looks great,” she said. “Totally glamorous.”

  Taylor’s entire face lit up. “Thanks.”

  “Did you get that done in Vegas?” asked Ashlin.

  Taylor nodded. “That’s partly why we went. My mom knows a makeup artist up there. This was my graduation gift.”

  “Is it really permanent?” asked Lucy.

  “Not exactly,” said Taylor. “It’ll last a few years, though.” Noticing the portfolio in Ashlin’s arms she asked, “Are those pictures from Cabo? I want to see.”

  Ashlin handed over the book and Taylor flipped through it quickly—too quickly, in Cameron’s opinion. “These are great,” she said, as she set the book down on Ashlin’s desk. “But I thought you were going to take pictures of Blake out in Joshua Tree.”

  Cameron groaned. Everyone else knew better than to bring him up, but apparently news of the fight hadn’t made it to Taylor.

  “We’re not exactly talking at the moment.” Cameron kept things vague, but Taylor wasn’t going to let her off the hook so easily.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “Yeah, you never told us any of the gory details,” said Lucy.

  There was a reason for that. If Cameron told her friends about the fight, she’d have to tell them everything, and she felt weird about it. Of course, she didn’t have much of a choice now. They were all staring at her, waiting, and it wasn’t like they weren’t going to find out soon enough, anyway.

  “It’s complicated,” said Cameron, sitting down on Ashlin’s bed and leaning against the headboard. “Basically, I’m getting breast implants in a couple of weeks, and when I told Blake, he freaked out and called me shallow.”

  Lucy screamed. “Oh my gosh. Cam, you’re kidding.”

  Cameron shook her head. “Seriously. I’ve been thinking about this for ages. You guys know how self-conscious I am about my chest, right? Well, I finally decided to do something about it.”

  “That’s awesome,” said Taylor. “How big are you going to go?”

  “Nothing crazy. I want to be a C cup.”

  “Wait, didn’t all those women get sick from breast implants?” asked Lucy. “Don’t they leak poison?”

  “Those were the old kind,” said Cameron. “They were filled with silicone, but now they’re made with saline. If they leak it’s not a big deal, because the liquid will just get absorbed into your body. It’s only saltwater—totally harmless.”

  “But isn’t the shell still silicone?” asked Lucy.

  “Technically, yes,” said Cameron.

  “And don’t they still leak?” asked Ashlin.

  “Sometimes,” said Cameron. “Rarely.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” asked Ashlin. “You totally don’t need them.”

  “I never said I needed them. I just want them.” Cameron shrugged and ran her hand through her hair. “Anyway, it’s not so different from tattooed eyeliner.”

  “True,” said Taylor.

  “It’s totally different,” said Ashlin. “The tattoos fade, but you’re putting these foreign things into your body permanently. It’s way more dangerous and … just so fake.”

  “Really?” asked Cameron, raising her eyebrows and staring pointedly at her friend. “It’s so interesting that you’re calling me fake, Ms. LASIK Surgery who’s been getting her hair straightened for four years.”

  “Ouch,” said Ashlin. “No need to be mean about it.”

  “I’m just sick of everyone being so negative about this whole thing. You have no idea what I’ve had to go through with my parents.”

  “I can’t believe they’re letting you do it,” said Lucy.

  “I’m an adult, so they have no choice,” said Cameron. “Anyway, it’s not that big of a deal. And Ashlin, look what plastic surgery did for that character in that novel you lent me.” “Flavor of the Month! Cameron, do you know what happened to the woman who wrote that book?” asked Ashlin. “Olivia Goldsmith went in for some simple plastic surgery and it killed her.”

  “Come on,” said Cameron.

  “Seriously. She slipped into a coma after they gave her anesthesia and she never woke up.”

  Suddenly Cameron had the chills. “No way. That’s a total urban myth.”

  “It’s true. Look it up,” said Ashlin.

  “I will, but I’m telling you, I’ve done so much research into this, and sure, there are some risks, but most women are totally fine after. It’s totally worth it. My doctor said they’re perfectly safe and he wouldn’t lie.”

  “So what did Blake say?” asked Lucy.

  “At this point, I can’t even remember. I’m still traumatized by our miserable ride home from Joshua Tree. We didn’t say a word to each other for the entire three hours. I’ve never seen him so mad.”

  “It’s a crazy thing to break up over,” said Lucy. “I mean, it’s sort of sweet in a way. He’s upset that you want to change yourself. It’s like he’s saying that he loves you the way you are.”

  “But I was never doing this for him in the first place. The assumption is so arrogant. It’s my decision and he should be supportive. I respect Blake and all of his beliefs. I never make fun of him when he wears that stupid beret, and last winter I helped him organize the boycott of the school cafeteria after he found out they were buying their chickens from factory farms.”

  Ashlin and Lucy looked at each other. “It’s a little different,” said Ashlin.

  Cameron was annoyed. “Is it, though? No one thought there was anything terrible about my getting a nose job, so why are people freaking out now? It’s not like I’m mainlining crack.”

  “Let’s not fight. This is stupid,” said Lucy. “Are we going out to lunch or what?”

  “Finally. I’m starving,” said Taylor.

  “I’ll drive,” said Hadley.

  As everyone filed out of the room, Cameron grabbed her portfolio off Ashlin’s desk. “I’ll catch up with you guys later. I have to go.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Ashlin.

  Cameron nodded. No way was she going to stick around. Ashlin’s outright disapproval was annoying enough, but Lucy’s failure to defend her somehow felt even worse. Who were they to act like she was doing some horrible, scandalous thing? Everyone wanted to look as good as they could. She wasn’t guilty of being anything but human.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  As Allie circled the empty parking lot for the third time, she felt like a Motion Picture Home resident driving one of their battery-operated golf carts. Her hands gripped the steering wheel in the three and nine o’clock positions, just like she’d been taught in driver’s ed. Except she was holding on too tightly, and her shoulders were tensed up practically to her ears. Also, she leaned too far forward and squinted out at the road too intensely.

  “I t
hink you’re ready for the street,” said her dad, despite her obvious flaws.

  “Tell that to Brian Hughes,” Allie replied.

  “Who?”

  “The guy whose car I wrecked.”

  “It was an accident,” said her dad, with the wave of one hand. “It could’ve happened to anyone.”

  “But it happened to me,” Allie reminded him.

  “You need to put that behind you. That guy’s a jerk, driving around in a gas guzzler like that. And you learned your lesson, so I’m glad you hit him!”

  Her father’s kindness made Allie feel worse. It was as if she had failed him once more but he didn’t mind because he hadn’t expected anything better from her.

  She circled the parking lot again, carefully watching everything in front of her. There wasn’t much to see but pavement and white lines, but that was sort of the point.

  “Seriously, hon. Turn right out of the exit. You can do this.”

  “Am I boring you?” asked Allie.

  “Honestly? Yes, but that’s not why I’m asking you to drive in traffic. You have to get over this fear. So, let’s take Mulholland Boulevard.”

  “The canyon?” Allie pressed on the brakes and shifted the car into park. “No, that road has way too many curves.”

  “But not much traffic at this hour,” Jeffrey countered. “So let’s go.”

  Sighing, Allie did as she was told. And once she got over the initial nervousness, it wasn’t so horrible to be on the road. The leathery smell of her dad’s car felt comforting, as did the gentle hum of the air-conditioning. She was used to this car and she liked it.

  It felt good to be out of the house, too. Ever since Cameron had come home early from Joshua Tree, things had been kind of tense. She and their dad still hardly spoke. Cameron did everything she could to avoid him, spending all her time in her room working on her portfolio, or out with her friends. Blake stopped coming around, and Allie missed him. She asked her sister what was going on, but Cameron refused to talk about it.

  Only this morning before the driving lesson had she actually said a word to Allie. Cameron was convinced that her decision to get breast implants was no more significant than Allie’s nose job, and she wanted Allie to say as much to their father. Allie wasn’t sure she agreed, but she promised to have the conversation.

  Not that she could think of any natural way to bring it up. “So, um, surgery day isn’t too far away,” said Allie. It was a weak attempt but it worked.

  Her father grunted. “And what do you think of Cameron’s plans?”

  “She doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal,” said Allie. “She’s already been through surgery once and it worked out pretty well …”

  “And what do you think?”

  Allie shrugged. “It’s weird, I guess. Although it is about Mom, too.”

  “That’s different,” said Jeffrey. “Your mother is an adult, and she’s had a rough time, you know. It’s been a long struggle.”

  “What has?” asked Allie.

  “Going back to work.”

  “But she’s just started auditioning.”

  Jeffrey shook his head. “It’s a tough business for older women. And your mother is being very realistic about the whole thing. She isn’t even going out for lead roles. She’d be more than happy to land something small—a supporting part in a sitcom, or a low-budget movie—but even that’s impossible. After all that rejection, I can see why she’d want to do something like this.”

  Allie had never thought of her mother as someone who’d ever struggled for anything. She hadn’t even realized that Julie wanted to act that badly; she’d always thought her mom’s renewed interest was more of a hobby, like the organic gardening she’d taken up a few months ago, and the knitting before that. If she’d really loved acting so much, why had she given it up in the first place?

  “I had no idea,” said Allie.

  “Don’t tell her I said anything. She doesn’t want you girls to worry about her. Anyway, it’s your sister with the bigger problem. I don’t understand why this is so important to her.”

  “It’s weird, but I feel like a hypocrite for saying anything, since I’m having surgery, too.”

  “Don’t worry. A nose job isn’t a big deal. I feel bad that you girls inherited more of my looks than you did your mother’s. It’s like I owe you a better nose.”

  At the next light, Allie glanced at her father’s familiar profile. His nose was large and hooked, much bigger than hers, yet she’d never heard him mention it before. “If you think your nose is too big, how come you never got it fixed?”

  Her father grinned. “I see what you’re getting at, Allie, and you have a good point. We live in a superficial world, and it’s much harder for women. The double standard isn’t fair or right, but that’s how it is. Sure, I wish I was better-looking, but my nose certainly didn’t affect my life the way it did Cameron’s. Maybe you’re too young to remember, but your sister was very unhappy before we left La Jolla. Junior high was especially hard for her.”

  What Allie remembered about La Jolla was that back then, Cameron was always so much more available. She used to buy Allie Barbie dolls, even though Allie never cared for them. What she loved was playing with her big sister, watching Cameron pose the dolls and take their pictures. She’d make up elaborate stories about them, pretending that Malibu Barbie was the head of an international modeling agency. In Cameron’s world, Ken wasn’t Barbie’s boyfriend. He was her assistant.

  Everything changed after they moved. Cameron was older, and she started dressing herself up, posing for self-portraits, and taking pictures of her friends.

  Allie always figured that Cameron lost interest in the Barbies because people were more interesting than plastic dolls. Now she realized that Cameron’s focus had merely shifted. She’d once worked to make dolls look like people. Now she focused on making people look like dolls.

  “Was her nose really that bad before?”

  “It was like your nose,” said Jeffrey. “So you tell me.”

  Her father’s words were like a jellyfish sting, the pain stunning, yet the source untraceable. Her nose was big. She knew that. Just, why did that automatically mean she needed surgery? Lots of people had big noses. They didn’t all get them fixed. Somehow people managed.

  “I have to miss a week of soccer camp because I’ll be recovering.”

  “Don’t worry. A week won’t set you back too much.”

  “Coach McAdams is bringing someone up to the varsity team, but if I miss a whole week of the camp she won’t let me try out.”

  This was the first time Allie had voiced her concern out loud.

  “That’s not fair,” said her dad. “You’re the best on the JV team.”

  “Quincy scored more points last year.”

  “But you beat her with assists, and you’re much better all around.”

  “If I decided not to get it done, would you be upset?”

  “Of course not. It’s your nose. You can always do it over Christmas vacation, or even next summer. I just assumed that you’d want to get it fixed as soon as you could.”

  “Why?” asked Allie.

  She could hear her dad shift uncomfortably in his seat. “Cameron told us what your soccer teammates call you.”

  “Huh?”

  “The Beak,” he said softly.

  Allie felt like laughing. “So?”

  “Well, I’d be insulted if someone called me the Beak.”

  When the light turned green, Allie stepped on the gas pedal. “Our last name is Beekman. Everyone on the team has a nickname that’s derivative of their last name.”

  “Oh.”

  “They don’t say it to be mean.”

  “Of course not, honey. But doesn’t it hurt, just a little? It’s okay to tell me, you know. I understand that even the closest friends can be insensitive sometimes.”

  “Seriously, I never even thought about it like that.”

  Allie could tell that her father
didn’t believe her. It was absurd to argue, though. “Can we go home now?” she asked.

  “Did I say something to upset you?”

  Allie shook her head.

  “All I want is for you to be happy.”

  Allie didn’t doubt that this was the case. Rather, she hadn’t realized she was unhappy. Or, at least, that everyone assumed she must be.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  When Selby Chasen breezed into the Beekman house, the entire center of gravity seemed to shift so that all focus was on her and her alone.

  “Julie Davenport!” she cried, air-kissing Cameron’s mom on the cheek one, two, and then three times. “You look amazing.”

  “And you’re a wonderful liar,” Julie said, laughing and clearly pleased.

  “You must be Cameron,” said Selby, shaking her hand firmly. “You look just like your mom. I’m so excited to see your work. We should get to it, though. I only have fifteen minutes, because I have to meet my agent for lunch and then I’m flying to Fiji tonight.”

  “Fiji?” asked Cameron.

  “I’m shooting some new Japanese rock band for Rolling Stone” Selby explained.

  Selby worked as a freelance photographer based in San Francisco, but she traveled the world, specializing in photographing musicians. She’d even dated a couple of them. Her current boyfriend had two platinum albums and was ten years her junior. No huge shocker since Selby was so beautiful. She had pixie-like features, short dark hair, and large gray eyes. Although she couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, she was bursting with enough energy to fill up the entire room.

  Cameron was in awe.

  “Why don’t you two work in the dining room,” said Julie, ushering Selby toward the back of the house. “Can I get you a drink?”

  “No thanks,” said Selby.

  Once they were settled, Cameron handed over her portfolio. From everything she’d heard about her mom’s friend, she knew she’d like Selby. What she hadn’t counted on was this: She wanted Selby to like her work so much, it actually hurt.

  Selby pored over the pages quietly and carefully.

  Cameron waited, which was much more complicated than it sounded. She didn’t know if she should look at her pictures with Selby, or if that would be considered rude, like reading over someone’s shoulder. Although maybe it would be rude not to look, since Selby had taken time out of her busy schedule to do this.