Still, that’s no excuse for her being a total jerk, and maybe the other suck-ups in her posse don’t care how she acts, but you’re not going to let her treat you however she wants. Time for some tough love.
You straighten your back and head over to the edge of the stage, where Mona is sitting. “Hey,” you say to her. “How’s it going?”
Mona looks up at you and rolls her eyes, “It would be going better if you weren’t here.”
“Oh well. Sucks to be you, then, cause I’m not going anywhere.” You smile. “It just looked like maybe you needed some company.”
“Ha!” Mona says, smirking at you. “Like I don’t know why you’re trying to be all buddy-buddy with me.”
“Because I’m a glutton for punishment?” you offer. At the moment, that sounds like the only reasonable explanation.
“Noooo …,” Mona says like she’s talking to a kindergartner. “You think if you can become my best friend, then I’ll help you get signed with an agency or something and you can be just like me. What a user. So typical!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoaaa,” you interrupt. “First of all, I already have a best friend. Two of em, actually. And secondly, I’m not the one who asked to be here. Your mom came and got me, remember? I’m not exactly stalking you. So you can just go ahead and get over yourself right now. And by the way, I’m pumped about getting to be a model today, but between you and me”—you lean in and whisper in Monas ear—“I was just kind of hoping they’d let me keep the clothes.”
When you pull away, you see that her face has softened up just a touch. “Soo … you really don’t want anything from me?”
“Well, I could use a piece of gum if you have one, but other than that, no.”
“Oh,” she says, looking a bit uncomfortable. “Well, I don’t chew gum. It makes you look like a cow.”
“Right.” You should have seen that one coming. She only uses gum as a weapon. “So … your friends must be psyched about knowing a model, huh?”
“Pfff,” Mona grunts. “I don’t have any friends around here.”
You’re not sure you believe her. You may have thought she was too toxic to hang with, but at school Mona always rolls with an entourage. “What about all the people I see you with at school?”
“Leeches,” Mona answers quickly. “You know Lisa Topple?” You nod. “Well, the first time I invited her over to my house, I told her to bring movies or something. Instead, she brought a packet of headshots and spent the whole time talking to my mom.”
“Ouch.”
“Exactly. And that wasn’t the first time that’s happened. But whatever. I’m used to it now. It doesn’t bother me.”
“Riiight,” you say slowly. “That’s why you bit my head off before—because you’re so cool with people entering your territory.”
Mona folds her arms haughtily and fixes her big blue eyes on you. “Look, you don’t see me coming down to the soccer field trying to take over your little … playtime or whatever, do you? You have that turf. This one is mine.”
“You know,” you say, taking a seat next to her, “with aggression like that, you should be on the soccer team with me. Why don’t you try out? Or at least hang out with us after the games?”
She looks at you and smirks again. “Yeah, right. As if I have time for after-school activities! While you guys are out playing in the dirt”—she wrinkles her nose—“I’m usually off posing for a catalog or getting new headshots or going to fabulous industry parties.” She counts each item off on a finger while she looks up at the ceiling. “So I really don’t have time to ‘hang out,’ but I don’t expect you to understand.” She pats your back condescendingly. Her face has You’re lucky I’m even talking to you written all over it.
Yep, she’s still a brat. But at least you kind of get her now. Her mom’s a beast, she doesn’t have any real friends, and she’s always working. (Hmmm … if that’s the modeling life, maybe it isn’t for you after all.) She may act as if she’s above all that “kid stuff” like having fun and hanging out with friends, but she’s not fooling you for a second. You’ve never met somebody more in need of an emergency Johnny Rockets milk shake and maybe one of Jessie’s famous sleepovers.
“Models!” you hear Janice call. “Everyone take your places on the set … now!”
Mona huffs and stands up. “Duty calls.”
“Hey, look,” you say as you stand up next to her. “I know you must have some fabulous party to go to next Saturday or you’re meeting with Benny Ninja to work on your posing or something, but if you can get out of it, it would be really cool if you would come over to Jessie’s house with Lena and me for a sleepover. We’ll just be giving each other facials, watching scary movies, pigging out on pizza … you know, the usual. But maybe you could come anyway and teach us how you do that French twist thing with your hair. We’re hopeless when it comes to hairstyling.”
Mona looks genuinely shocked. Her eyes are so wide that her fake lashes are batting against her perfectly trimmed brows. And you could be imagining this, but she seems to be tearing up a little. For a second there, it looks like she is going to give a very touching speech about how she’s longed for real friends and can’t wait to come over and braid your hair. But in a flash, she regains her composure and clears her throat. “Puh-leeease. I get my facials done at a spa, I hate scary movies, and I don’t eat pizza.”
Ah yes, there’s the Mona you know and loathe. Still, you must have earned some kind of begrudging respect, because at least she stops looking at you like you’re a dog turd.
“Look,” she says, putting her hands on her waist. “We have to work together, so we might as well just get it over with. You’re … kind of pretty, I guess, but you don’t know anything about modeling. So just follow my lead so you don’t make us all look bad. Agreed?”
That’s as good an offer as you’re going to get from Mona, so you take it. “Agreed.”
You smile, secretly suspecting that there is a human in there after all. Way, way in there.
By the time the two of you take your places among all the other models, you wouldn’t say you were friends. But you at least understand each other. You get that Mona isn’t going to change anytime soon, and she gets that you aren’t going to be run out of there like a dog with its tail between its legs. So when Jean Paul starts clicking away, the two of you feed off each other’s vibes. Mona even gives you a few tips between shots to help you stand out more. At the end you even do one pose with the two of you standing back to back with your arms crossed and your faces aimed defiantly toward the light. It’s fierce, if you do say so yourself. Everyone agrees that for a first-timer, you killed it in all the photos. Even Janice is impressed. Not that she says that, of course.
“Good,” Janice snaps. “That was not a total disaster.”
You can tell that Janice isn’t used to complimenting people, so you’ll take what you can get. But after how great you and her daughter just did, you think maybe you’ll get a warmer reception from Mona.
“Mona, that was awesome! We totally rocked that shoot!” You reach up for a high five.
But Mona just stares at your hand as if she thinks you have a horrible disease called dorkitis and it’s contagious. “Uh … I think you mean Irocked that shoot. You were just
along for the ride. Now, if you’ll get out of my way, I need to go find Jimmy.” Without another word, she struts past you, flipping her hair in your face as she goes. Oh well. Same old Mona. But even her attitude-with-a-capital-A can’t ruin your buzz. Right now you feel like a real-life super model. Move over, Tyra. Here comes the next big thing!
Later, after you pick up the passes to the wrap party from Steve (score!), change back into your old clothes, and hang up the designer duds in the wardrobe case (no, they’re not letting you keep them), you hear a familiar voice say, “Not bad, new girl.”
You turn to see Bryan standing just outside the changing room, leaning on his skateboard as if it’s a really cool cane.
&
nbsp; “What? You were watching the shoot?”
“Oh, the modeling stuff? Yeah, I saw some of that. But I was talking about the way you handled Mona. I heard what you said to her. That was”—he shrugs—“kind of cool. I wish Alexa had stood up to her like that.”
You give him a half smile. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he answers, looking down at his board. “Hey, let me see your phone for a second.”
“O-kaaay,” you say, not sure why he would want to see your Sidekick. He flips it open and quickly dials some numbers into it.
“There, now you know where to find me if you and your friends ever want to hang,” he says, blowing his hair out of his face.
You smile happily as you take back your phone. You can’t be sure, but you think your actions today just earned you Bryan’s official seal of approval. Nice.
That was very impressive, missy! You handled Mona in a way that was both tough and kind, and as a result you had a killer photo shoot. Not to mention you now have in your possession tickets to the all-important Bebe LaRue wrap party at the museum. As if that weren’t enough, Mona said you were pretty (even if it killed her to admit it), and Bryan seems to have dubbed you cool enough to hang out with. You are definitely riding the high right now. But are you the type to let your good fortune go to your head? Don’t be so quick to answer! Only the quiz knows for sure
QUIZ TIME!
Circle your answers and tally up the points at the end.
1. In group pictures, you tend to stand:
front and center. The most beautiful thing in a photo should always be in the middle so that your eye goes right to it. Cheese!
a little off to the side. You don’t want to hog the spotlight. But you do make it a point to wear a bit of red so you’re sure to be noticed.
in the back, off to the side. Preferably behind someone else. Is it really necessary to have photographic evidence that you have a terrible haircut?
out of the frame. You try to avoid being in pictures whenever possible. The fewer eyes on you, the better.
2. When you’re on the phone with friends, you spend most of your time talking about:
yourself. Your life is always so fascinating and you know that your friends like to live vicariously through you. True, you’re usually the one calling them, but that’s probably just because they assume you’re out doing something fabulous and aren’t home.
mostly yourself, but you usually remember to ask them how they’re doing right before you hang up. They don’t have as much going on as you, but you don’t want them to feel left out.
mostly them. You give them a quick update, but you already know what’s going on with you, so where’s the fun in rehashing it for an hour? You’d rather hear what you missed.
them. Whatever’s going on with them is usually way more interesting than your ho-hum life. How often can you tell your friends the same ol’ stories? You’d rather be the fascinated audience.
3. A boy in your algebra class is staring at you. It probably means:
he’s in love with you. Duh. And can you blame him? You’re sure he’s never seen a girl quite as special as you are.
he likes you. You’ve caught him checking you out before, but he’s probably too shy to say anything.
he wants to ask you what you got for number three. He knows algebra is your best subject, so he probably wants to make sure he got the right answer.
you have something in your teeth. You’re positive that’s it and he’s about to laugh and tell all his friends that you must have had spinach for lunch. Great.
4. A girl in your dance class doesn’t seem to like you that much. It’s probably because:
she’s jealous. You have the best dance skills in the class and she knows it. You can’t help it if you’re a better dancer than she is. Sheesh!
she doesn’t know you very well. If she did, she’d know that you are definitely a friend worth having.
you haven’t gone out of your way to talk to her. But that’s only because you’re kind of shy, which people sometimes mistake as being rude.
you probably stepped on her foot by accident during rehearsal. You do sometimes have two left feet.
5. If you were on a reality show like The City, you’d expect to be:
the star of the show. The camera loves you, and your friends’ lives usually revolve around you anyway. And you have the perfect voice to be the narrator.
one of the major players. But being the star would take up too much of your time. You’d rather just show up for all the party scenes.
a guest star. It would be fun to be on the show once in a while, but it would be a lot of pressure to make your life seem exciting all the time. Cameos are definitely the way to go. That way no one gets sick of seeing you.
in a few quick scenes, but that’s about it. Why would people want to watch your life? Zzzzzz …
Give yourself 1 point for every time you answered A, 2 points for every B, 3 points for every C, and 4 points for every D.
—If you scored between 5 and 12, go to chapter 22
—If you scored between 13 and 20, go to chapter 23
From Chapter Six: You know only too well that what you put out into the universe tends to come back to you, so you try extra hard not to rock your karmic boat. When given the choice, you tend to do the right thing.
From Chapter Seven: Being around you is pretty relaxing, because you don’t like to make waves. Unfortunately, you let people get away with murder because of that. You haven’t quite yet realized that being a good person doesn’t mean letting others walk all over you. You deserve as much respect as you give everyone else. But if you don’t believe that, no one else will either.
After you hang up with Amy, you pull back the curtain a little and peek out at the set. It looks beautiful—just a plain white backdrop with a few giant white cubes in the middle and some gold spray-painted leaves scattered across the floor. Against that background, the models, all dressed in different shades of fall colors and earth tones, really pop. And since most of them are blond, Mona—with her jet-black hair and shimmery pink lipstick—really stands out. Well, it’s either her hair or the fact that she’s pacing back and forth with her arms crossed and steam coming out of her ears. She reminds you of a bull in a rodeo right after it sees the color red.
You know you should probably go out there and talk to her, but you can think of a million things you’d rather do.
Things You’d Rather Do
Than Confront Mona
Go to school wearing My Little Pony pajamas.
Scrub all the toilets in the mall… with your toothbrush.
Have someone read your diary over the PA system.
Drink a whole carton of spoiled milk.
It’s safe to say confrontation is not your thing. You just want to model and have a good time. But why did she have to be here? You sigh and try to shake it off. Bottom line, Mona isn’t going anywhere and neither are you, so you might as well just try to get through it.
After taking a few deep breaths, you walk out onto the set, where the photographer, Jean Paul, is arranging all the models. He puts you on the left-hand side and adjusts one of the large umbrellas until the light is hitting you just so.
“Remember,” he warns you with a faint French accent, “you need to stay within the frame.”
You hate to sound stupid, but you have no idea what he means. “Um, the frame?” you ask.
Jean Paul sighs and shakes his head. “Yes, the frame.” He holds up his hands in front of him, making Ls with his index fingers and thumbs. “This is what I see in my camera. If you are standing outside of it, you will not be in the picture. Look down.”
You do as you’re told and see that there are lines of tape on the floor, forming three sides of a rectangle.
“Those are your marks. Step outside of those and you don’t exist. Got it?”
“Got it … I think.” Okay, you’re a smart girl and normally you wouldn’t need this explained to you as if yo
u were five. But right now you are shaking in your three-hundred-dollar flats and can hardly think straight. The truth is you’re on the verge of a major freak-out.
“Don’t worry,” a syrupy voice says beside you. Mona has stopped her angry pacing and is standing next to you now. She throws one arm around your shoulders. “I’ll show her the ropes, Jean Paul.”
“Excellent,” he says, obviously relieved.
As he goes about positioning the tripod and testing the lights, you whisper to Mona, “Thanks for the save. Very cool of you. I guess I’m just a little nervous. Any advice for me?”
Mona leans in close to your ear and whispers, “Yeah. Stay out of my way.”
You pull back and stare at her sneering face. Ah, now there’s the Mona you’re used to. “What?”
Your Life, but Better Page 12
