Revenge of the Girl With the Great Personality

by Elizabeth Eulberg

  Her voice is nearly inaudible. “At least Dad likes you.”

  “What?” I look at Mackenzie and see she’s near tears. I check around to make sure nobody can see her. “Mac, you know that’s not true. Dad loves you. We were supposed to be with him today. Remember? And he was so sad to not see you.”

  “No, he was sad he couldn’t be with you. He wanted you to still come.”

  “He did?”

  How does she know that?

  “I listened in on the phone conversation. He told Mom that I should stop doing pageants and they’re a waste of time.”

  I bite my tongue. I once suggested we cut back on going to pageants because they were costing too much money and Mom didn’t talk to me for a week. I know better now.

  She sniffles. “And he didn’t even ask to speak to me. He only wanted to talk to you.”

  “Mac, he’s known me longer than you. I guess we have more stuff to say to each other. And you’re usually so busy doing pageants so he doesn’t get to see you as much as he sees me. But, I …” I don’t really know what to say. I can’t say she brings it upon herself because she’s only seven years old.

  “What’s wrong?” We both look up to see Mom looking concerned. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing,” Mac says quietly.

  Mom turns to me. “What did you do?”

  “I …”

  Okay, seriously? Why is this my fault? And why does she automatically assume that I did something?

  I’m really getting sick of this. And I don’t know why it has taken this long for me to finally see how ridiculous this all is. Not the pageants — I’ve known that forever. But the way I’m treated by my own family.

  I have got to find a way to get out of coming to these things for good.

  “Let’s go.” Mackenzie gets up and heads to the room.

  Mom glares at me. “What on earth —”

  I don’t let her finish. “Has it ever crossed your mind that I didn’t do anything? That maybe Mac is upset about something other than pageants?”

  “For heaven’s sake, Lexi, this is not the time to start trouble. Not before Mackenzie has an interview with television producers.” She looks at me with such disgust. “And on second thought, don’t come in. You’ve already done enough.”

  Mom turns on her heel and chases after Mac.

  I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

  “Is this seat taken?” An older gentleman, obviously a pageant dad, gestures toward the seat next to me.

  “All yours.” I give him a weak smile.

  “I couldn’t help but notice your little argument. Was that your mother?”

  I’m taken aback. I’ve seen plenty of families melt down at these pageants. You usually just keep your head down and try not to get hit by any flying objects.

  “Oh, yeah, it’s nothing. Just stress,” I lie.

  “Are you auditioning?”

  “Oh, no.” I can’t help but laugh. “My sister’s in there now. I think I’m a little too old to be considered a tyke.”

  He gives me a warm smile. “Do you watch the show?”

  “Texas Beauty Tykes? I don’t really need to watch it — I live that show. Is your daughter auditioning?”

  He shakes his head. “No, simply observing. No matter how many pageants I go to, I can’t get used to all the silliness.”

  I extend my hand. “Hello, fellow sane person. Pleased to meet a normal in the loony bin.”

  He laughs, then takes my hand. “Tom.”

  “Lexi.”

  “So, Lexi, I take it that you’re not a fan of pageants, then?” He takes off his wire-rimmed glasses and starts polishing them with his button-down checkered shirt.

  I hesitate. Generally when I’m asked about my opinion of pageants, I give a canned response: “They’re wonderful, they help build self-esteem, my beloved baby sister just loves them….”

  But I’m not in the best mood right now to hold back and pretend that everything’s okay. Because I’m tired of it all. I’m tired of how much pageants take away from me, from my family. I’m tired of lying, or not being able to express my feelings. Of having to stay silent.

  I’ve been asked my opinion, and Uncensored Lexi is going to give it.

  “Not really. It’s just … they cost so much money, and there’s no way you’re ever going to earn it back. Even if you win every single Ultimate Grand Supreme title, there’s no way to come out ahead. Every pageant costs us at least a thousand dollars, money we don’t have. And all I keep hearing is that it helps build self-esteem, but in my opinion, it builds brats. My little sister is the worst. Everything in our house revolves around her. And all Mom does is smile and say she has a ‘big personality’ or is ‘spirited,’ which at the end of the day means she’s a spoiled brat.

  “Sorry, once you get me started …” I look around, making sure Mom hasn’t heard my tirade. I feel bad calling Mac a brat, but let’s face it, she can be one. And Mom does nothing to discipline her, especially on Pageant Day.

  Tom smiles at me. “Oh no, I agree with what you’re saying. Go on.”

  I realize how much better I feel finally letting it all out. I wonder if this guy would be okay with me lying down on a couch. This is totally therapy for me.

  “I mean, do you really have to spend over a grand just so someone can come home with a crown to make her feel special? Like, what does it say about society that the only way you can feel good about yourself is if you put on a ton of —”

  I stop myself even though Tom’s nodding in agreement with me. I’m such a hypocrite, complaining about how shallow it is to praise someone for their looks, even though I spent over an hour this morning primping to be behind-the-scenes. I’m pretending that I don’t get excited every day to be complimented on my new look, that putting on the pretty hasn’t made me more confident.

  Maybe Mac and I aren’t that different after all.

  “Sorry.” A feeling of guilt starts to spread over me. I shouldn’t talk so openly about my disgust for pageants in the middle of a pageant. These moms can be fierce.

  Tom laughs. “Oh no, please continue….”

  I’m starting to wonder what this guy’s deal is. Why is he getting so much joy out of my ragging on pageants? Worse still, what if he’s friends with my mom?

  I turn the attention on him. “What age division is your daughter?”

  He shakes his head. “Oh, I’m not here with a contestant. I’m one of the producers of the show.”

  Holy butt glue.

  Just then Mom and Mackenzie exit the interview room. Mac looks ecstatic, while Mom seems defeated.

  Tom sees them coming as well.

  “Well, I guess I should let you go. Great talking with you, Lexi. Really, great.” He hands me his business card. Thomas Woodhouse, Associate Producer, Texas Beauty Tykes.

  Yeah, great.

  Mom will end my life if she finds out that I ruined Mackenzie’s chances at reality TV infamy.

  I used to spend the majority of pageants watching with my eyeballs rolled up into my skull, but today I decide on a different approach. I knew there were some correlations between pageants and being in high school, but once I pay attention, it’s a little shocking.

  Generally speaking, tight, sparkly outfits get the most positive response from the crowd/The Chosen Ones. Confident poses elicit the most head nodding from the judges/jocks. Lighter-haired girls are the biggest winners (a.k.a. Alyssa, but we already knew that).

  I start writing all this down to tell Benny later.

  “Are you taking notes?” Logan gestures toward the notebook in my hand.

  “Oh, yeah.” Although I don’t think Logan would appreciate my theories. “Just a little … experiment.”

  He studies my face for a moment. I do my best to not look away.

  “It seems like you’ve been doing a lot of, ah, experiments lately.”

  I can’t help but smile. “For example?”

  It doesn’t take a
rocket scientist to figure out that something’s going on with me; I’m curious to see what Logan’s theory is. I’ve heard the current rumor around school is that I want to try out for cheerleading next year.

  As if.

  “I don’t know.” He shrugs his shoulders, his magnificent broad shoulders…. “You seem a little different.”

  “So is that a good or a bad thing?” I can’t believe I’m being so blunt with him. Never did I think I’d have the confidence to pretty much ask Logan if he thinks I’m hot. I mean, that’s basically what’s going on here, right?

  “No, it’s all fine.” He looks straight ahead, refusing to make eye contact with me. “It seems to have come out of nowhere. Like, I wasn’t aware that you had a thing for Taylor, that’s all.”

  Hmmm, jealous much?

  I shrug. “I wasn’t aware that I needed to give you my diary to read.”

  He laughs. “I don’t mean it like that. It’s only … I didn’t realize that you had so many surprises up your sleeve.” He finally meets my eyes. And instead of doing what I usually do, which is melt into a pile of boy-crazy blubber, I decide to do something that I’ve never done before.

  I’m going to flirt with Logan Reeves.

  I give him a mischievous smirk and raise my left eyebrow. “Oh, Logan, you have no idea of all the surprises I have.”

  And I can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he’ll flirt right back.

  “Yeah, well.” He crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “Taylor’s a good guy, one of my best friends. We should go on a double date sometime.”

  On second thought …

  I nod in reply. I guess that could be fun. I’ve never been that great watching Logan and Alyssa go all couply in front of me, but if I was with Taylor … I make a mental note to call him later. Between his practices, my work, me being Mac’s personal chauffeur, and this pageant, we haven’t been able to have a third date. But we’ve been talking every day. He’s even sent me a few texts to see how I’m holding up with all the pageant craziness.

  Logan and I sit in silence during the crowning. Mackenzie technically got first in her age group (although two girls in her division “pulled out,” which means they got a bigger overall title), so it’ll be a pleasant car ride home.

  Logan gives me a little nod good-bye before he walks over to kiss Alyssa.

  I’ll just remove that knife sticking through my heart, thank you very much.

  I go over to Mac and Mom, and to my horror see Texas Beauty Tykes Tom approach us. I shut my eyes and will him to go speak to someone else, to not mention the things I said to him.

  I open my eyes and see him in front of Mom. “Excuse me, Ms. Anderson? I’m with the production team, and we’d love to have a word with you and your family.”

  Mom’s eyes widen. “Of course. Come on, Mackenzie.”

  Tom gestures toward me. “We’d like Lexi as well.”

  “Oh!” Mom looks between the producer and me, although I refuse to make eye contact with either of them. Instead I’m pretending like I’m really interested in the banners on stage. “Of course.”

  I feel Mom’s hand on my arm as we head into the room next door where they were doing the interviews. I won’t look at her, or acknowledge that I know exactly why Tom knows my name.

  Tom gestures to the three chairs that are lined up for us. “Please have a seat.”

  The three of us sit down in front of Tom and a few other people. Introductions are made. Mom and Mackenzie are smiling and being their perfect pageant selves. I feel like I’m about to be interrogated.

  Tom smiles. “We have some great news.” I guess that would depend on who you’re talking to. “We’d like to talk about featuring your family in an upcoming episode.”

  Mom puts her hand up to her heart. “Oh my goodness, this is just the best news ever. Isn’t it Mackenzie?”

  Mackenzie gives them her pageant smile.

  I try not to look like a deer caught in headlights.

  This can’t be happening.

  He continues, “We think you have a great family story, and we especially like the dynamic between the two sisters. We aren’t used to seeing such a big gap in the age of siblings, and well, to be honest, their opinions on pageants.”

  Wow, these lightbulbs are bright. I wonder how many there are in this room? Maybe if I stare at them long enough I’ll go blind and have to leave to go to the hospital. Yes, an injury would be really great right now. Because a self-inflicted wound will be a lot better than the damage that’ll be done if Mom finds out that I talked to any of the Tykes people.

  Oh, who am I kidding, I went off on him.

  Mom says in her best sugary-sweet, everything-is-perfect-in-my-family voice, “Lexi loves helping her little sister, don’t you, Lex?”

  Mom’s giving me one of those don’t-you-dare-mess-this-up looks.

  I know exactly what these producers are looking for. And I’m going to make sure that they get the exact opposite of that.

  I turn to them and put on a nice, big pageant smile. (I’m pretty sure I look insane.) “Oh yes, I think what the pageants have done for my darling baby sister is priceless. There’s such a sense of community within these young ladies. And they’re learning such important life skills that they’ll be able to carry with them throughout their lives.”

  Even without turning, I can tell that both Mom and Mac are about to fall over from shock.

  I keep smiling at the producers as they start whispering among themselves.

  “I’m sorry, Lexi,” one of the other producers says to me, “we were under the impression that you hated pageants and thought they were a waste of money.”

  I feign being stunned. “Goodness gracious, I don’t know what on earth would ever give you such an impression. My word!” I don’t know why I suddenly find the need to talk as if I’m a character straight out of Gone with the Wind.

  Tom’s face turns red. “How about your conversation with me?”

  “When did you speak to him?” Mom’s pageant face has been erased and her I’m-going-to-kill-you-Lexi face has returned.

  “When you were in here. Lexi was extremely vocal about her disgust for the pageant world.”

  How odd that he didn’t choose to use the word entrapment to describe our encounter.

  Although is this really considered news to Mom? I know I’ve made comments, but has she really ignored them all? Does my opinion really matter that little to her?

  In order to stop a major scene, which is what they’re looking for, I stand up.

  I feel my body tremble, but I force myself to look at each of the producers in the eye. I know I get annoyed about pageants and Princess Mackenzie, but at the end of the day, she’s my sister. I will protect her as best I can.

  Nobody puts baby sis in a corner.

  I take a deep breath. “I’m aware of what I said outside. Although, I wasn’t aware that I was speaking to a producer and that is my fault. But I do need to make something clear. If you come into our house, you’re only going to encounter Encouraging and Supportive Lexi, the bestest big sister in the whole wide world. I will not allow you to humiliate my family or take advantage of my baby sister, who, despite my feelings about pageants, I love very much. So if you’re looking for some extreme fighting among siblings, you aren’t going to get it here.”

  I walk out of the room. Even with my back turned, I can feel every eyeball on me, including a very angry pair.

  I try to compose myself for a few minutes before Mom and Mac come back out. I know I’ve ruined this for Mackenzie. But I’ve seen that show, I’ve seen how most of the contestants look like brats and are humiliated after the episode airs. Yes, I called Mackenzie a brat, and at times she can be, but I don’t want her to be made fun of.

  I remember being seven. I loved that age. Being seven’s awesome. You don’t have that much responsibility or homework. And it’s illegal to work, so you get to play a lot. Being seven rocks. Or it should rock.

&
nbsp; Mom and Mac exit the room. Mom walks over to me and grabs my arm, hard.

  “They don’t want us now. Are you happy? How could you do this to your sister?”

  I refuse to back down. Enough is enough. “How could you do this to your daughter, Mom?”

  She leads me over to a corner so we’re away from a large group of gossipy pageant moms, all waiting to make one last plea for their children to be featured on the show. “What are you even talking about? Do you have any idea what a big deal this would’ve been for your sister?”

  “Big deal for what? Three of the girls here today have been featured on that show. All it does is shed light on money problems, family tension … I’ve never seen one person come out of that show who made me think, Well, they’re not totally made of pure evil.”

  “You’re just jealous of your sister. That’s obviously why you’ve been prancing around like a —” Mom closes her mouth quickly.

  I get in her face. We’re only inches away from each other. “Like a what? Say it. Because I’m wearing half the makeup you put on your seven-year-old daughter to strut around on stage in a bikini in front of strangers. Yeah, so let’s start judging the sixteen-year-old for looking her age. Or are you upset that I’m walking proof that you’re wrong? Because I’m not ugly.”

  Mom’s jaw drops. “I never said —”

  “Yes, you did.” I try to resist the memory that starts flooding back to me.

  “You’re just being silly.” She waves me away like she doesn’t have a clue what I’m talking about.

  It kills me that she doesn’t even remember what happened. That one moment, one that was so inconsequential for her, molded the person that I am today.

  It comes back to me like it was just yesterday, even though it was five years ago; Mac was about to turn three and I was eleven. We, of course, were at a pageant. I was jealous of all the attention Mac was getting from Mom. So I went up to my mother and said, “Mama, I want to do pageants, too.”

  I know. What was I thinking?

  I thought this would make Mom happy. Dad had been gone for over a year and it was clear he wasn’t coming back. I figured it was something we all could do as a family. Plus, I wanted my mom to look at me the same way she looked at Mac. For her to be proud of me, like she was of her youngest child.