New York Debut

by Melody Carlson

  “Do we need to take a photo to prove it?” asked Casey. “I’m willing to get my camera.”

  “Want me to go get my measuring tape?” asked Rhiannon.

  But Kriti’s expression changed ever so slightly as she stared into the mirror, trying to see what they saw.

  “Are you seeing it yet?” demanded DJ.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you want us to stand here all night until you get it?” asked Casey.

  “Or maybe we should strip naked,” said DJ. “Would that help?”

  Kriti sort of giggled now. “No, not really. But thanks for the offer.”

  “Okay,” said Rhiannon as she pulled her shirt back on.

  Soon they were in the bedroom again, and DJ felt it was time to give the ultimatum. “Look, Kriti,” she began slowly. “Because we all really care about you, we want you to stop this. Do you get that?”

  Kriti nodded solemnly.

  “And it’s possible you might need help,” said Rhiannon. “The article I gave you says that if a case goes on too long, the patient might need both medical and psychological treatment.”

  Now Kriti looked truly alarmed.

  “But that might not be how it is with you,” said DJ quickly. “For starters we’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. Okay?”

  She looked relieved.

  “But here’s the deal,” continued DJ. “You have to start eating. And you have to stop that manic exercising. I mean, it’s great if you want to work out. There’s nothing wrong with good exercise, and Casey and I can even help you with a sensible workout program.”

  Kriti looked slightly interested, then she frowned. “But what if I don’t want your help? What if I refuse to . . . well, to change?”

  “That’s what I’m getting to.” DJ took in a deep breath. “If you refuse our help and keep doing what you’ve been doing, I will tell my grandmother everything. And she will inform your parents so that they can deal with it. I’m guessing they’ll move you back home.”

  “But we’d really like you to stick around,” added Rhiannon.

  “Really?” Kriti did not look convinced.

  “Okay. We realize we haven’t been that friendly. But that’s mostly because Eliza seemed to rule over you.”

  “Yeah, it’s like you became her personal property,” said Casey.

  Kriti nodded like she got this. “I guess it kind of felt that way to me too. Still, she’s nice in her own way. And she seems to care about me. And she’s so beautiful. Eliza was the first real friend I’ve had.”

  “Real friend?” DJ studied Kriti closely. “Do you really believe that?”

  “I don’t know . . .”

  “Don’t you feel like she kind of uses you?” asked Rhiannon.

  “I mean, it seems like you do everything for her . . . but what does she do for you?”

  “Besides telling you that you’re fat?” said Casey.

  Kriti slowly nodded. “Okay . . . maybe you’re right.”

  “Look,” said DJ. “You are smart and pretty, and you really have a lot going on. You don’t need to be someone’s puppet.”

  Kriti gave them a half smile.

  “So, are you going to cooperate with us?” asked Casey.

  “Because we’ll be watching you closely,” said Rhiannon.“Both here and at school.”

  “We’re going to be keeping track of whether or not you’re really eating,” said Casey.

  “And I’ll be watching to make sure you don’t overexercise.”

  “It’s just because we want to help,” added Rhiannon. “We want you to be healthy.”

  “Are you in?” asked DJ. “Will you cooperate?”

  “Yes.” Kriti nodded as if she meant it. “I will.”

  DJ grinned. “Okay, here’s your first test. I’m hungry for a hot fudge sundae. Who’s ready to go with me?”

  “And fries too?” asked Kriti.

  7

  “I KNOW WHERE TAYLOR IS,” chirped Eliza on Saturday morning.

  The girls were at the breakfast table, but Grandmother had been delayed with a phone call so the conversation was fairly relaxed. “Where?” DJ asked, trying to sound disinterested.

  “Rehab,” said Eliza proudly.

  “Says who?” DJ was still trying to act nonchalant as she applied the butter substitute to her whole-grain toast.

  “Says Seth.”

  “How would Seth know?” asked Casey.

  “He happens to be Taylor’s boyfriend.” Eliza dabbed her lips with a napkin. “Why wouldn’t he know?”

  “Why would he tell you?” demanded DJ.

  “Because I know how to get what I want from a guy.” Eliza smiled smugly.

  “Maybe he lied to you,” suggested Casey.

  Eliza laughed. “Look, I don’t see why you guys are trying to cover for Taylor. We all know she has a drinking problem. You should be glad she’s getting treatment. How long is she in for, DJ?”

  DJ took a big bite of her toast and slowly chewed. She was determined not to engage with Eliza.

  “Just because Seth said that Taylor is in rehab doesn’t make it true,” persisted Casey. “How would he even know . . . I mean, I’ve heard that people aren’t allowed contact with the outside world when they’re in rehab.”

  “He said that Taylor called him.”

  “Taylor called him?” demanded DJ with her mouth still partially full of toast.

  “Ah-ha!” Eliza looked pleased, kind of like the spider that just caught the fly. “So she really is in rehab.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You don’t need to, DJ. Your face says it all. I actually thought that Seth was just making it up. But now I know that he was telling the truth after all.”

  “Whatever.” DJ rolled her eyes, but inwardly simmered to think that Taylor had called Seth and not her.

  “Are we all ready for our modeling class?” asked Eliza cheerfully. “This is the big day when the other girls start coming.”

  “Don’t remind us.” Casey groaned. “I can’t believe we’re being forced to spend the next few Saturday mornings with people like Madison and Tina.”

  “I doubt that Madison and Tina will really come,” said DJ. “I’ll bet they were kidding.”

  “Why wouldn’t they want to come?” asked Eliza. “It’s a great opportunity for girls outside of Carter House to improve themselves.” She gave DJ a catty smile now. “I know a couple girls right under this roof who could use some improvements as well.”

  DJ didn’t respond. She simply excused herself. Why did Eliza make life so difficult? And this news about Taylor calling Seth was especially aggravating. After all DJ had done for Taylor . . . and then Taylor calls stupid Seth instead of her. Seth, who’d been arrested for underage drinking himself. She wondered if Seth had told Taylor about that little incident.

  DJ went to her room and flopped onto her bed. She had to agree with Casey . . . the last thing she wanted to do this morning was to sit in a room with girls like Madison and Tina, not to mention Eliza, and to be forced to listen as Grandmother droned on about the correct care of cuticles or the necessity of weekly exfoliating masques or how to sit like you had a corncob stuck in some hidden part of your anatomy. Or, puh-leeze, how to walk. DJ knew how to walk. She just wished she could walk out.

  “Is it true about Taylor?” asked Kriti as she came into the room.

  DJ shrugged. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag now.”

  “Well, I think it’s a good thing.”

  “You mean that she’s in rehab? Or that everyone knows?”

  “That she’s getting help.”

  “Yeah, I have to agree with you there.” DJ gave her a little smile now. “By the way, good job at breakfast. I noticed you ate all your oatmeal.” Okay, DJ didn’t mention that the bowl had only been half full. But at least Kriti had polished it off.

  Kriti nodded with an uncertain expression and then went to look in the full-length mirror and scowled at her reflection.r />
  “Don’t obsess,” DJ reminded as she got up and went to stand beside Kriti. “Or I’ll have to hang sheets over all the mirrors.”

  Kriti sighed, then went to the bathroom and picked up her brush, going to work on her shoulder-length black hair, although it seemed that every hair was already in perfect place. “So when is Taylor coming back?” asked Kriti as she set the brush down.

  “I have no idea.” DJ leaned forward and peered at her own reflection. No makeup. Straggly hair in need of a wash. Old soccer shirt and comfy jeans. Comfy, but not too impressive —especially to her grandmother. Not that DJ particularly cared.

  “Taylor will probably want her room back . . . I mean, here with you.”

  DJ shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, I cannot imagine that she’ll want to share a room with Eliza.”

  DJ laughed. “I can’t imagine anyone wanting to share a room with Eliza. I mean, she hogs the closet space, acts like she thinks she’s the perfect princess, and makes the rest of us feel like the ugly stepsisters.”

  “You too?” Kriti was putting on some blush now. Grandmother had told them to come to class looking their best. Apparently Kriti had been listening.

  DJ nodded. “Oh, yeah. Not only that, but she’s so graceful, she makes me feel like a klutz with two left feet.”

  “Me too.” Kriti was putting on lip color. “Did you know that she took ballet for six years?”

  “Why does that not surprise me?” DJ sighed.

  “And piano too.”

  “The perfect little princess.” Of course, DJ felt guilty now. What about all that talk of loving her enemies? To be fair, Eliza wasn’t exactly an enemy. It wasn’t like she’d done anything specifically mean or horrid to DJ. At least not recently.

  Although DJ hadn’t forgotten how Eliza had tripped her at the last fashion show.

  “I think it might’ve helped when Taylor was here,” said Kriti.

  “Huh?”

  “Taylor sort of balanced out the power with Eliza.” Kriti expertly brushed some blusher onto her cheeks, probably just the way Eliza had taught her to do. Still, it looked nice and natural too.

  “I think you’re right.”

  “Do you miss Taylor?” Kriti looked directly at DJ now.

  DJ wasn’t quite sure how to answer. She didn’t want to lie, but telling the truth might make Kriti feel bad since she was in essence sleeping in Taylor’s bed. “I sort of miss her, but I’m glad she’s getting help too.”

  “You felt bad that she didn’t call you, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you were keeping her rehab a secret to protect her?”

  “It seemed like she should be the one to tell people . . . that is, if she wanted.”

  “You’re a good friend, DJ.”

  “Thanks.” DJ pulled her hair into a messy ponytail now. She knew Grandmother would not be pleased with her appearance. But that was her problem. Maybe Grandmother would dismiss her from practice — now wouldn’t that be nice. Or maybe DJ might get really lucky and her grandmother would choose someone like Madison or Tina to take DJ’s place for Fashion Week.

  “As you girls all know, I have decided to take eight models with me to Fashion Week.” Grandmother looked over what appeared to be about a dozen girls and smiled. “Not that I want you girls to think of this as a competition. It is certainly not. Because we’re all here to learn, aren’t we? So even if you’re not one of the lucky eight who goes to New York, you will leave Carter House knowing that you are prettier and more charming and better groomed than when you came.”

  It took all of DJ’s self-control not to moan as Grandmother continued. It seemed that the main topic of today’s “lesson” was about clothing and styles. Like DJ cared.

  “Vertical lines make you appear taller and thinner,” explained Grandmother as she showed them a photo of a tall, skinny model wearing a black and white striped dress with stripes going up and down. Personally, DJ thought the model looked stupid. And the hungry-looking girl was already tall and thin. Like, how much taller and thinner did she need to look? Then Grandmother produced another photo of a shorter, stockier girl — obviously not a model — wearing black and white stripes that went from side to side and caused her to resemble a prison inmate.

  “You can see how these horizontal stripes make her look dumpy and fat.” Grandmother made a tsk-tsk sound. “A fashion disaster.”

  DJ felt herself nodding off, and she tried to fight it. But suddenly she was brought back to consciousness by a nudge from Casey’s elbow.

  “Huh?” muttered DJ.

  “Your grandmother,” whispered Casey.

  DJ looked up to see Grandmother sternly looking her direction. “I said, please, come up here, Desiree.”

  DJ kind of shrugged, then stood and shuffled forward. Grandmother cleared her throat, then shook her head. “As I was saying, there are many fashion don’ts. It seems that my own granddaughter has decided to demonstrate most of them for us today.” This elicited some chuckles from the girls.

  DJ forced a grin. “Thank you very much.”

  “Stand up straight, dear.”

  DJ straightened.

  “Now. For starters, Desiree’s hair is all wrong. Pulled back like this only accentuates her rather long face and square chin.”

  DJ touched her chin. It didn’t feel square.

  “And her lack of makeup makes her skin look sallow.” Grandmother pointed below her eyes. “And see these bags.”

  “Bags?” DJ turned and stared at Grandmother.

  “Yes. A little properly applied concealer will take care of that. But I’m digressing. I only brought her up here to talk about her clothing, to show how color and style can work for you or against you.” She pulled at DJ’s baggy shirt with a broad stripe across the chest. “Now this shirt adds about ten pounds to Desiree. The blue stripe accentuates her bust line, but not in a flattering way. The sagging shoulders make it appear that she is slouching.” Grandmother frowned. “Usually she is slouching. But beneath this ill-fitting shirt, Desiree actually has very nice, straight shoulders. Not that anyone can see that today. And she also has a very trim figure. But you wouldn’t know that to look at her. And these jeans.” Grandmother shook her head hopelessly as she tugged at them. “They do not accentuate anything worth accentuating. In fact, these jeans really should be burned.”

  “I like them,” said DJ. “They’re comfy.”

  Grandmother laughed. “Comfort and fashion have very little to do with one another, dear.”

  Madison snickered loudly, causing Tina to break into giggles. But Grandmother didn’t even look their way. Instead, she continued to go over all of DJ’s numerous “fashion don’ts.” As Grandmother continued to point out the poorly positioned back pockets of DJ’s must-be-burned, drooping jeans, DJ stared directly at Madison, watching the smug girl sit there with one leg crossed over the other, swinging her foot and smiling in a superior way.

  Finally, Grandmother seemed to run out of negative things to say about DJ, and she invited Eliza to come and stand next to her.

  “Eliza will be our good example,” said Grandmother. Like she needed to explain that. Then she went over all of Eliza’s “fashion do’s” and compared them to DJ’s “don’ts.” Once again, Madison and Tina seemed to enjoy DJ’s discomfort thoroughly.

  But DJ just stood there, gritting her teeth and taking it. She wished she was thinking more Christ-like thoughts, but mostly she wanted to smack Madison right in the nose.

  “Lesson learned,” DJ admitted to Casey later. “Next Saturday I’ll take a bit more care with my appearance. That way I might be able to sleep while Grandmother picks on some other poor unsuspecting soul.”

  “Like me?” Casey frowned.

  “Be warned.”

  On Sunday, after Conner drove DJ home from church, Taylor called. Fortunately, Kriti was gone, so DJ was able to talk privately in her room.

  “How are you?” she asked happily. />
  “Pretty good.”

  “So you’re allowed to use the phone?”

  “This is my very first call.”

  “Oh?” DJ didn’t want to contradict Taylor, but she was curious. “I, uh, I heard you called Seth.”

  “Yeah, like weeks ago.”

  “When?”

  “Before I signed myself into lockdown.”

  “Oh . . .” Now DJ felt bad for questioning her, but she was curious. “But Seth did know where you were then?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Because I was trying to keep it quiet, I figured you didn’t want everyone to know what was going on.”

  “Are you saying that everyone knows now?” Taylor sounded mad.

  “They didn’t hear it from me.”

  “And I told Seth to keep his mouth shut.”

  “He did for the most part. But somehow Eliza pried it out of him.”

  Taylor swore.

  “I’m sorry,” DJ said quickly. “I just found out this morning. Up until now, it’s been top secret. Unfortunately, Eliza announced it to everyone at breakfast.” Okay, DJ didn’t admit that she had told Rhiannon and Casey. But, unlike Big Mouth Eliza, they had kept it to themselves. Plus, Rhiannon, like DJ, had been praying for Taylor, and DJ felt that was worth a lot.

  “Oh, I guess it doesn’t really matter anyway.” Taylor sighed loudly.

  “If it makes you feel any better, everyone here — well, except Eliza — thinks it’s pretty cool.” Then to change the subject, DJ told Taylor about their Saturday sessions in preparation for Fashion Week and how Grandmother had invited outsiders and how she’d used DJ as her “don’t” example.

  Taylor laughed. “You should’ve known better, DJ.”

  “Yeah, well, I won’t make that mistake again.”

  “I suppose Eliza thinks she’s the Carter House fashion queen now.”

  So DJ told Taylor about Eliza’s New Year’s Eve party, including how Eliza, Harry, and Seth had all been arrested.

  “No way!” Taylor was laughing really hard now. “Wow, that just makes my day. Eliza in jail?”

  “I’m not sure if she was really locked up. But she did get caught. She had to clean the whole house, including scrubbing toilets. Plus she’s been grounded all week. Although I suspect it’s about over now. Eliza’s been buttering up my grandmother with her southern charm and impeccable manners.”