Kari

by Libba Bray

  Nan grabbed her purse. “Okay. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Yeah, you really should watch it,” Jen sneered.

  Nan pushed through the bathroom door. Jen followed, then stuck her head back in.

  “I hope this doesn’t affect my role in your movie,” she said before shutting the door.

  chapter 8

  “Oh my God. You had a close encounter of the Nan kind,” Dee said as we made our way to Salon Splendor for our makeovers. The day of the big date was upon us. “Were you afraid she’d, like, start a catfight?”

  “Be real, Dee. That only happens in Mariah Carey videos.”

  “I would’ve been so freaked. She’s just so pretty, you know?”

  I didn’t need that. “Well, gee, maybe I won’t frighten schoolchildren after today’s session.”

  “Oh, Kar, I didn’t mean anything. You look great.” Looking great wasn’t the same thing as being pretty. No way around it.

  “Let’s just get this show on the road, ’kay?” I said stiffly. By eleven-thirty Dee and I were sitting in plush leather chairs. Shawnda, our style consultant, recommended a trim and blond highlights for Dee. I decided to take the plunge and cut long layers into my boring shoulder-length bob plus pump up the blond. We changed into big, white bathrobes. Then Shawnda led us into a little room with a dipping pond and incense and sat us in front of the Hubble Telescope of makeup mirrors, which magnified everything on our faces to fun house proportions.

  “I’ll be back in a sec,” Shawnda said, leaving Dee and me alone to examine every nook, cranny, and blemish.

  “Oh my God,” Dee said. “Why didn’t you tell me I had so many blackheads! My chin looks like pepper mill turkey. Eewwww!”

  I couldn’t get over my nose. In the mirror it seemed to take over, like a giant alien nose ship had landed smack in the middle of my face. “I can’t let them cut my hair. Then I’ll be nothing but a pair of walking nostrils.”

  “I thought this was supposed to make us feel better about ourselves, not worse,” Dee pointed out.

  “Yeah. Ignorance is definitely bliss.” I spotted a troubling crater below my bottom lip. “Is that a freckle, or am I starting to sprout hair on my chin like my grandmother?”

  “Lila has hair on her chin?”

  “She plucks them every morning. She’s got a new boyfriend, by the way. This one’s a former traveling magician, current weirdo.”

  “Man, oh, man. Your grandmother and her boyfriends. How do you deal?”

  I shrugged. “Ignore them, mostly. My mom always goes out of her way to make them all seem like part of the family. Inviting them to dinner and stuff.”

  Dee turned her attention to her eyebrows. “How come your mom doesn’t just tell your grandmother to act her age?”

  “My mom stand up to Lila? Please. There’s a better chance I’ll grow up to be a supermodel.”

  “How do people get to be supermodels, anyway?”

  “Grow ten feet and major cheekbones overnight. Who cares.” The conversation was starting to make me irritable. For today I wanted to concentrate on making myself wonderful, or as close to wonderful as I could get, and that meant leaving every thought of my family behind.

  Dee laughed. “Oh my gosh. I can just see the first time Connor comes over for Sunday night dinner. Lila will probably have some geriatric Siegfried and Roy act over. Your mom will be looking for astral clues in the spaghetti sauce. Isis will probably take dinner in her coffin. And Theo. Well, Theo’s Theo—what can I say?”

  “They’re not that bad,” I said a little defensively, but I knew she was right. Maybe I had gotten them to do a few things on my to-do list, but it wasn’t the same as changing them.

  Dee kept laughing. “Oh yes, they are, Kar. I’m totally understating the problem, and you know it.” I knew it wasn’t Dee’s fault for pointing out the obvious, but I was mad at her, anyway. Wearing a look of concern, I examined a spot at the back of Dee’s head. “Are you losing hair back here?”

  She freaked. “Oh my God! Oh my God! I’m going bald!”

  Okay. It was such a Melrose thing to do, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. Every time I dreamed of my perfect life with Connor Reese at my side, I ran smack into the reality that I was raised by circus freaks. I was enjoying my new status as nonweirdo. It felt so right to finally be taken seriously. I liked it, and I wanted more. I was ready to completely make my life over. I was even getting new hair. I could make over my family, too, just like I’d promised Jared I would. I’d be like Henry Higgins in My Fair Lady.

  “The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plains,” I said dreamily.

  “What?” Dee asked. I hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

  “Nothing,” I said. Where was Shawnda, our fearless “style consultant,” anyway?

  As if reading my mind, Shawnda waltzed through the door and led us to the “rinsing station,” where we were given a “botanical conditioning experience that actually strengthens your hair every time you shower.” The miracle potion was for sale at only twelve ninety-eight plus tax per bottle. Ouch. I’d be doing the Suave conditioning experience instead.

  After our hair was conditioned and wrapped in warm towels, we were treated to a neck massage (bliss to the tenth power), pedicure-manicure (Passion Fruit Pink for Dee, Taupe of New York for me), color typing (figures I’m winter…the drab months), cut and color, and makeup lessons.

  Dee asked the makeup artist how to make her lips look pouty like a model’s on a Cosmo cover. I didn’t get a chance to ask. Miss Lip Liner took one look at me and said sympathetically, “And I can show you how to make your nose look a little less…a little more…with the right shading you’ll hardly notice it at all.”

  Hi. Just sign me up for the ego-shrinkage treatment. As I sulked, the makeup guru blended a little brown shadow on the sides of my nose. When she was satisfied, she stood back and shoved a small mirror into my hand. I was almost afraid to look, but curiosity won in the end. I couldn’t believe it. My nose hadn’t shrunk to cheerleader size, but it did look better. Less noticeable.

  All that was left was for Dee and me to sit under some heat lamps to set our highlights. I took this as my opportunity to coach Dee a little on Jared. Sure, they’d been friends for years. But everything was different now. We needed new direction.

  “Okay,” I began. “What’s your favorite movie of all time?”

  “Definitely Titanic!” Dee gushed.

  Clearly I had my work cut out for me. “Annnh! No, but thank you for playing. Pick another movie.”

  “But I saw Titanic eight times. I would’ve gone again, but my mom staged an intervention with my allowance.”

  “Good for her. Dee, you can’t pick Titanic. It’s so… I don’t know…generic.”

  “Well, maybe I am generic. I mean, we don’t all have to be superheroes, do we?”

  Dee was selling herself short again. I refused to let her drag her insecurity blanket around. “Dee,” I said sweetly but as firmly as possible. “Do you want to date Jared or not?”

  “Yes. I mean, I think so. He is sort of babe-o-matic. And have you noticed how his body’s filling out?”

  “He’s a hottie in training, the alt-rock Ken doll. So, are you prepared to be Barbie, or do you just want to be Francie or Skipper your whole life?”

  “At least I’m not Midge.”

  “Heaven forbid. Look, you don’t have to give up Titanic. But get familiar with Jared’s faves. Like the Marx Brothers.”

  “I’ve never seen one of their movies.”

  “Rent one. That’s your homework for this weekend.”

  “I hate homework.”

  “No pain, no gain. Midge,” I said pointedly.

  “Oh, all right.” Dee sighed. She picked up a copy of Teen and started to look up her horoscope. I took the magazine out of her hands and threw it on the floor.

  “And another thing—Jared would never take any girl seriously who read Teen out in the open. Start reading what he r
eads: comic books. Sci-Fi Quarterly. Spin. Speaking of Spin, let’s talk music. Jared’s fave bands are Cake and Oasis. He practically worships the Chemical Brothers.”

  “You know I listen to Mariah Carey.” Dee was starting to whine. Not a good sign.

  “Survey says: Whining is least attractive trait to opposite sex.”

  “It just seems like I’m trying to be somebody else.”

  I took a deep breath and thought about how to answer her. “It’s not that. Really. It’s just you like him; he likes you. We’re just coming up with things to talk about. That’s all.”

  “Well, why can’t Jared go rent Titanic, then?”

  Because life is unfair. Because everything worth having takes work. Because Jared wouldn’t watch Titanic if somebody held him at gunpoint. “Because guys take a little drawing out.” I instantly thought of Connor. How would I draw him out? “It sucks, but there you go.”

  Dee stuck her long legs out in front of her and admired her frosty pink toes. “I’m just so nervous about tonight.”

  That made two of us. I tried to imagine Connor and Jared fretting over what to wear and how to keep the conversation going. When I was a director, I was going to make a movie in which guys had to fall all over themselves to get ready for a date.

  Dee sat up, panicked. “What do I say to break the ice?”

  “Jared likes a smart-ass. He’s big on arguing. Just dish it out to him in heaps.”

  “But I’m not as quick as you are, Kar. What if I just sound stupid?”

  “You won’t sound stupid, okay? Remember, this is Jared. Jared I-wore-Sears-jeans-till-the-ninth-grade Jameson.”

  Dee stared up at the ceiling. Her face broke out in a flirty smile. “Yeah. But everything feels different now.” She looked over at me. “Okay. Gimme your best shot.”

  This was good. “Way to go. Now. Pretend I’m Jared and…”

  “Wait—then who am I?”

  I blinked a few times, then spoke slowly. “You’re you.”

  “Right.” Dee smiled. “Go on.”

  I shook it off. “It’s B lunch, and we’re hanging out on the commons, waiting for the siren of doom to call us back to fourth period. I say, ‘Nice streaks, Malloy. Did you pay someone for those, or is it a medical experiment gone horribly wrong?’ And you say…?”

  “And I say…I say…” Dee struggled, then answered triumphantly, “I paid for them.”

  She looked at me, waiting for the girlfriend seal of approval. The clock ticked on the wall. Cars honked on the street outside. I finally managed to close my open mouth and recover. Apparently Dee wasn’t great under date pressure.

  “O-kay, that would be one answer. How about, ‘They’re called highlights, Jameson. Something your life would be missing right about now.’ ”

  “Oooh, good one. But Kaaaar. I can’t do that.”

  “Hello. Whine factor. Rising.”

  Dee gave me a playful shove on the arm. At least she was coming out of her pout spiral. “All right. Let’s try another one.”

  “Good girl,” I said. I thought for a minute. “You’re talking about the X-Men, and Jared says, ‘The problem with Wolverine is he’s two-dimensional. Storm is a much more interesting character.’ ” I looked at her meaningfully. The strain was making her pupils dilate. “Dee, it’s not an AP exam.”

  “I know. I just want to get it right. I would say, ‘I hate that stupid show, and I don’t even think Mulder is all that good-looking.’ ” “The pout was coming back.

  “Important safety tip? We’re talking about X-Men, the comic book, not X-Files, the show.”

  “Well, excuse me for living.” Dee blew out her breath. “I didn’t know there was going to be a pop quiz.”

  No one knows when there’s going to be a pop quiz—that’s why it’s a “pop”—but I could see Dee was in no mood to have this small fact pointed out. She was getting discouraged. Not what I had intended. I gave her my best pep talk face.

  “Look, don’t worry about it. Just do your best, okay? I’ll guide you through.”

  Thirty minutes later the bathrobes came off and Dee and I got a glimpse of our new selves in full makeover heaven. I reached up to touch my new layered hairdo. Letting go of all that stringy hair was one of the best decisions of my life. The Kari staring back at me from the mirror had a headful of blond, tousled locks, and she was actually sort of pretty—almost babelike. I couldn’t wait to see Connor’s reaction. Predictable? I don’t think so.

  “Hi. What’s up?” Jared’s mall friend, Mark, was calling to me. He was dropping off some leaflets on the table where the free newspapers and ads for tap-dancing lessons usually lived. “It’s Kari, right?” Why was it that no one seemed sure of my name?

  “Hi, Mark. What’s up?”

  “Just dropping off some ads for my parents’ print shop. Did you just get your hair done?”

  “Actually, I was donating a kidney in the back room there.” He looked a little scared. “Just kidding. Yep, Did the hair thing.”

  “Looks nice,” he said, but he was looking over my shoulder at Dee, the new goddess of Greenway. Dee was working her I’m-too-shy-to-realry-look-you-in-the-face look, which she perfected through years of watching Princess Di on TV.

  I sighed at the drama of it all. “Dee, Mark. Mark, this is Dee.”

  There was an exchange of too cute his that made me want to run for cover. Then Mark totally freaked me out. “Are you dating Jared?” he asked.

  Dee shot me a worried glance.

  “No,” I said. “Why?”

  “Nothing. Just wondered, that’s all. So, you’re not his girlfriend?”

  A creepy feeling made its way up my neck. Was Mark hitting on me? Was that what the whole rush-out-of-the-mall vibe had been about last week with Jared? “I’m not his girlfriend,” I said very emphatically. Then I realized I’d left myself open. He’d probably ask me to don Spock ears and accompany him to a Trekkie convention. “I’m sort of seeing somebody,” I added.

  “Oh,” Mark said. If he was crushed, he didn’t act it. “Well, have a good one. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  Dee laughed, and I pulled her out of the salon behind me. I was tired of being a professional nongirlfriend. Tonight would be my night. Lights. Camera. Time for serious action.

  I made my entrance down the stairs, wearing a blue Chinese-inspired shift. It was a little more formatting than I was used to, and I kept smoothing it down with every step. Theo fell on the floor in a combo fake rhapsody-borderline seizure. “Oooooh, she’s so girly! I may die!”

  “I should be so lucky,” I snarled.

  Isis looked up from her book for a millisecond, then resumed reading. Nothing like a vote of confidence.

  “Honey, you look wonderful,” Mom said, clasping her hands in front of her. She had painted some stars and moons on them. There was a whole Milky Way happening on the backs of her long fingers. I resisted the irritated urge to scrub them clean.

  “It needs something,” Lila murmured, looking me up and down like a side table in an antiques shop. “I have just the thing.” With Hefty perched on her shoulder, she marched upstairs. I didn’t even want to know what she was getting me.

  “So I look okay?” I was fishing big time.

  Theo was making Silly Putty sculptures of his favorite rock stars. He was putting them in little frames to hang on the wall. “Yeah. If it weren’t for your schnoz, you’d be almost pretty.”

  “So not helping,” I said. I’d be hiding those frames later.

  Isis looked up from her book again. “Did you talk to that casting director?”

  “What casting director?”

  “That one who called you back yesterday. Some lady.”

  Why couldn’t anybody leave a message like normal people do? “Isis, what did she say?”

  “To call her back by five -before she made up her schedule and went on vacation.”

  My heart dropped into my stomach like a free-falling elevator. “What? How could you fo
rget to tell me that?”

  Isis got a skittish kitten look, then recovered. “Guess you were too busy getting beautiful.”

  “Could you be a little more useless next time?” I barked. It wasn’t the nicest thing I could have said, but I was seriously annoyed. A casting director would have been a huge coup. She might have even been able to write me a letter of recommendation when the time came, as a witness to the film process.

  “I’m sure she’ll come if you call her,” Mom said in that peace-and-harmony way.

  “It doesn’t work that way, Mom. This is the real world.”

  Mom got a pinched look, and I felt bad for snapping.

  Lila descended on me, holding up a necklace. At least, I think it was a necklace. It was huge, with glycerin-encased beetles and ladybugs hanging from it clothesline style. “I got this in Cairo twenty years ago. You can bet no one else will be wearing one of these.”

  No kidding. I stood paralyzed as Lila fitted the clasp behind me. “Won-der-ful!” she sang.

  My watch read seven-thirty. It was too early to leave, but I couldn’t take another minute of this B horror movie called my family. As soon as I got in the car, I threw off the necklace and shoved it into my glove compartment. Then I made my way toward the fiery sunset and the restaurant, praying the evening would improve drastically.

  chapter 9

  I was the first person at Magnolia. It gave me a chance to decompress and get into the right mood. The place was beyond gorgeous. There were oak-paneled walls and Chinese vases filled with expensive floral arrangements. Peeking into the main dining room, I could see crisp, white tablecloths and antique lamps giving off romantic mood lighting at each table. It was going to be so perfect.

  My shooting script was flowing smoothly in my head. It went something like this: Major hottie struck dumb by new girlfriend’s beauteous makeover, pledges eternal love oath over second course. Girlfriend’s two dearest friends discover tender romance over dessert. This was what being a director was like. Calling the shots. Arranging the scene till it was flawless. Then sitting back and watching it play.