True Colors

by Krysten Lindsay Hager

  “Nice improvisation,” she said. “You looked like you were enjoying yourself. Thank you, we’ll let you know.”

  I hoped it meant they thought I twirled like an idiot on purpose. Oh well, I didn’t fall. I just hoped my panties didn’t show too much. At least it was the good pair. I felt pretty good about myself… until I went backstage and Ericka said, “Real models don’t smile.” I didn’t know any better. I was just lucky I didn’t wet myself or fall off the stupid runway.

  We went back to the registration area and got our free tote bags and makeup samples, which were just little smears of blush, lipstick, and eye shadow on tiny cards. What a waste. There wasn’t enough lipstick on the card to put on a doll. I was hoping we’d get to shop for a little while, but Mrs. Maines wanted to leave right away. I was home by two o’clock and spent the rest of the day reading my old copies of Teen Vogue and trying to picture myself on the cover. Somehow I just couldn’t see myself on the cover of any magazine. At least I had something interesting to write about on my blog. Mine were always so boring the only person who bothered to comment on them (or even read them) was my dad. Nothing makes you look cooler than having “Way to go, kiddo! Love, Dad” in your comment section.

  I had pretty much given up on any hope of having a modeling career until Sunday night when the phone rang. A woman named Celine Myeski called and asked for me. She said “Congratulations,” and I thought I won free muffins from the Mr. Fluffy Muffin Man stand because I always enter their “Win Free Muffins for a Month” contest, but she was calling about the Ingénue tryouts.

  “You’ve been chosen to advance to the next round in the competition. The next segment will take place in Lansing,” Mrs. Myeski said. She told me there would also be an ad in the local newspaper with the Grand Rapids finalists’ pictures.

  “A lot of agents and managers participate in this competition, so even if you don’t get picked for the show, there’s still a good chance you might find an agent,” she said. She needed to talk to one of my parents to make sure I could continue in the competition, so I put my mom on the phone and I ran to get the cell phone. Tori wasn’t home when I called, so I tried Ericka next.

  “Guess what? I got a call from the show, and they’re moving me on to the next level! Isn’t it amazing?”

  “Seriously? You made it?” Ericka asked. “I hope they don’t call me. I would hate to have to go through more stupid auditions. I mean, I just wanted a tote bag, ya know?”

  I wanted to point out she had been the one who had dragged me to the mall in the first place.

  “The next round is in Lansing, and I’m—”

  “—Landry, my mom needs to use the phone,” she said and hung up.

  My mom came into the room. “Mrs. Myeski said we would get a discount on the hotel room since you’re part of the show. If you want to go then I guess I could take off work the day before and we could drive to Lansing.”

  I think Mom expected me to start jumping up and down, but instead I headed to the bathroom. I was going to have to bring some extra strength stomach stuff when I went to Lansing. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do it. It would be a lot easier to say, “My mom wouldn’t let me go,” and have everybody wonder what could have happened than for me to go and fail… or worse, fall flat on my face on TV.

  “Hon,” my mom said through the door. “Mrs. Myeski said if you advanced again then the next show would be in Detroit, and it would be televised in Michigan. If you move on again, then they’ll fly you out to New York and you get to be on national television.”

  Anyone who watched American Ingénue knew they didn’t show the whole tryout process on TV, but they did show clips — like somebody falling or tripping or acting stuck up. I knew the chances of me making it past this round weren’t good, but there was this little voice in the back of my head which made me wonder, What if this was my big chance?

  Chapter Two

  The next day I got up and, for the first time ever, I felt excited about going to school. For once I could be one of those girls who walked up the path at school and said, “Guess what?” and everybody would crowd around me for a change as I told them I was moving on to the next round of Ingénue tryouts. Of course it was all shot in the butt when I saw myself in the mirror. I looked more like the “before” picture in Allure than a model. My hair went flat after I attempted to curl it, and my skin managed to be both oily and peeling at the same time. Plus, my gross uniform colors didn’t help matters. Meanwhile, those colors always made the two most popular girls at Hillcrest, Yasmin and Arianna, look like tanned goddesses. I tried putting moisturizer on my dry spots, but it just made me look greasy all over. I put powder on, but it made my skin look orange, so I had to rewash my stupid face again which, of course, made my dry spots drier.

  “Landry, you’ve got to get moving in the morning,” Mom said as she swerved the car to dodge a trashcan in the street. “Ms. Ashcroft already gave you a warning and she’s going to be on my neck if you’re late to homeroom again.”

  Mom gave me her new Franciszka T jacket to wear so I wouldn’t freeze when we went outside at lunch. I made it to homeroom before the final bell. In English class I found out everybody had already heard about my audition. I wanted to tell people myself, but I guess Ericka had beaten me to it. I also found out another girl from Hillcrest, Devon Abrams, had been chosen for the competition, too. My English teacher, Mrs. Kharrazi, dropped musty smelling paperbacks of The Call of the Wild onto our desks. I hated reading old stuff. I didn’t understand why we couldn’t read something new and fun. I mean, how did dogs in the wilderness relate to my life? I guess it could be useful if I got stranded in Alaska or something, but it was not one of the places on my dream vacation list. I’d rather go somewhere warm where I could lie out and go shopping.

  “Landry, please read the next section,” Mrs. Kharrazi said. My face got warm when I realized I had no idea which page we were on. She let me stutter for a second before calling on someone else. After class, Mrs. Kharrazi stopped me to ask if everything was all right. Most teachers would just humiliate you if you messed up in class, but Mrs. Kharrazi always told us we could come to her if we had a problem.

  “I have this modeling audition coming up, and I’m kinda nervous,” I said.

  “I’m sure you’ll do fine, but don’t put too much importance on a career based on appearance. You’re a good writer. In fact, the short story you wrote last week was one of the best I’ve seen. I’d like to enter it in the Michigan Young Pens essay contest,” she said.

  I could be a model and an author. I’d impress even myself. I couldn’t wait until lunch to tell Tori and Ericka.

  “What do you guys think I should wear to the audition?” I asked, sitting down at our usual table. “It’s an overnight trip, you know.”

  “You’re actually going?” Ericka asked as she pushed her bushy copper hair out of her face.

  “Well, yeah. Mrs. Myeski said if I move on to the next round then I might have a chance of getting signed with a modeling agent.”

  “Models are always sick because they’re so skinny and they have to get implants,” Ericka said.

  I casually folded my arms over my flat chest and glanced over at Tori, but she didn’t say anything. She just sat there chewing on the ends of her light brown hair. I knew Tori had wanted to get chosen for the modeling competition because she had to be the best in everything. She and Ericka were always competing for grades. Ericka was super annoying last week when she was the only one in the class who got a hundred percent on the history test.

  After lunch, we always went outside and sat in the courtyard. A lot of people played soccer or kickball on the grassy part, but we usually just sat on the benches and talked. It was cold out so I put on my mom’s silver jacket.

  “Landry, I love your jacket,” Ashanti Russell said, walking over to us. A bunch of people had already told me they liked it, but neither of my best friends said anything about it. Ericka went crazy over Tori’s hair thing yesterda
y, but my jacket didn’t even get a second glance. Kyle Eiton walked over to us, and Ericka started elbowing me. She’s been in love with him forever, and she always tried to get his attention. She started to say something to him, but he walked right past her… to me.

  “Landry, are you going to be on American Ingénue?” he asked. I wanted to change the subject, so I said Mrs. Kharrazi wanted to enter one of my essays into a writing contest.

  “Wow, good luck,” he said and ran off to join the soccer game.

  “I didn’t know you were entering a writing contest,” Tori said.

  “Yeah, Mrs. Kharrazi said my story is one of the best she’s seen in a long time,” I said.

  “Well, I’ll have to ask you for help next time I have to write something for class since you’re such an expert,” Ericka said, rolling her eyes. The bell rang for us to go in, and Ericka linked her arm through Tori’s as they hurried inside. I had to run to keep up.

  ****

  I tried calling my dad at work when I got home to tell him about the writing contest. I had called him yesterday about the competition, and he said I got my good looks from his side of the family. He thought I had a good chance of getting chosen, but the only thing I’ve ever won was a pillowcase at a carnival and it always smelled like horse poo no matter how many times I washed it. I didn’t get to see my dad a lot because he still lived in our old apartment in Chicago. Mom and I moved to Grand Rapids when she got a promotion last year. My dad was supposed to move, too, but the hospital he was planning on working at had some budget thing happen and they couldn’t hire him after all, so he stayed to work at the medical clinic.

  I kept hoping he’d move here to live with us, but my mom never talked about it when I asked. I tried talking to my dad about it, but he always said the same thing, “Go ask your mother.” They’re not separated or anything, but I was always worried one day they were going to tell me they were getting divorced. My dad wasn’t at the clinic, so I left him a message saying I’d e-mail the story to him.

  ****

  The next day Tori came out of Mrs. Kharrazi’s room while I was waiting to go to my next class. I smiled at her, and she raised her eyebrows at me and said Mrs. Kharrazi had gone on and on talking about my short story. Ericka walked over and interrupted her.

  “Oh look, it’s the supermodel,” Ericka said rolling her eyes. “Or are you a model and an author now?”

  I couldn’t respond because Mrs. Lacey started yelling at us “to move along,” like we were cows or something. My stomach felt all twisted up as I sat down and somebody passed me a worksheet, but I couldn’t concentrate. I just stared at it until the lunch bell rang. I tried to catch Tori’s eye in the cafeteria so I could take cuts in line, but she never looked my way. I kept praying everything would be okay by the time I sat down to eat because I would die if they stopped talking to me.

  By the time I got to the lunch counter they were out of pizza, and they only had oatmeal cookies left for dessert. What a choice: cream of broccoli soup or leftover steak sandwiches… yum. Tori and Ericka stopped talking as soon as I got to our table. I tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach and acted like everything was fine, but I felt like puking. Ericka looked at my steak sandwich and said, “Ew,” but other than her gagging, neither one spoke to me. The bread started sticking in my throat, and I realized I forgot to get a bottle of juice. They got up to leave and I wasn’t finished eating, but I threw my tray out and followed them outside. Ericka ran over to Hana Ito and started talking about her “cute” jacket. Hana’s had it for two years, but I knew it was just a slam on me and I tried to smile.

  “Landry, your jacket is cute,” Hana said.

  “Thanks, it’s Franciszka T,” I said.

  “Being a supermodel, I guess you know all the designers now,” Ericka said.

  A soccer ball came flying at us, and I ducked before it took my head off. Kyle ran after it and stuck his arm out like he couldn’t stop. He pulled me back with him and then tried to lift me up even though I’m almost a foot taller than him. Ericka tried to get his attention, but he ignored her. Again. Ericka moved away and pulled out her wallet with some baby pictures of her little cousin, Isabella, to show Hana and Tori. Nobody passed me the pictures so I had to look over Hana’s shoulder. I said Isabella was cute, but she looked like a fat raisin and she had Ericka’s ugly hair color. Poor kid. Ericka didn’t say anything to me, and I wondered if I had been bragging or something? I didn’t mean to, but I thought Hana wanted to know about my jacket.

  I felt like I was walking underwater the rest of the day. I had history with Tori and Ericka, and I sat at their table like always. Mrs. Hearst told us to get into groups of three to work on the questions at the end of the chapter. I thought everything was fine until Tori and Ericka got up to sit with somebody else and left me sitting by myself. I looked around the room, and the only group left with two people in it was India Allen and Peyton Urich’s table. India and Peyton were best friends with Devon, the girl who was going to be in the American Ingénue competition with me. I took a deep breath and walked over to their table to ask if I could work with them.

  “Sure. We’re in luck. Loser here,” Peyton said nodding towards India, “thought we were supposed to do the questions for homework last night, so ours are already done.”

  “I was at my grandparents’ last night, and they don’t have cable or Internet,” India said, flipping her long honey blonde hair over her shoulder. “And they live in the middle of nowhere, so it’s not like you can get Wi-Fi for your phone. It’s like being in a cave or something.”

  Mrs. Hearst had us put our answers on the board, and I offered to go up and write the ones for our group. Mrs. Hearst asked if anyone had a different answer to each of the questions. No one had a problem until she got to our question, and Tori raised her hand. Tori probably thought I had come up with the answer since I wrote it on the board. Mrs. Hearst told her she only had it half right and moved on. Hah.

  “Sorry it wasn’t up to Tori’s high standards,” India said, rolling her eyes in Tori’s direction.

  The bell rang, and I started to walk to the next class when I heard Ericka telling Tori I had been talking bad about them to Peyton and India.

  “How pathetic,” Tori said.

  I whirled around. “I didn’t say anything about you guys.”

  “Oh yeah, right. Why don’t you go flirt with your new boyfriend?” Ericka said. “It’s sad how you throw yourself at Kyle.”

  “Maybe you could brag about your little story some more,” Tori said. “Or your fabulous modeling career.”

  I went to French class and tried not to cry. I opened my book and pretended to read the next chapter on verbs. At least neither of them was in this class. Plus, it was Friday, and I’d have the weekend to get away from them. Of course, all this crap would start up again on Monday, but maybe they’d stop being mad at me by then. Otherwise, I’d have to pray for a freakishly early snowstorm on Sunday night.

  At the end of the day, I waited until the last second to get on the school bus to go home so it would look like I was sitting in the front because there weren’t any other seats. I didn’t want anyone to know those jerks didn’t want me around.

  ****

  When I got home, Mom asked if I had any plans with my friends this weekend. I’d more or less have to have friends first. I shook my head, and she said we could order pizza and rent movies.

  I headed over to the cartoon section at Movies ‘R Us. I’d never admit this to anybody, but I love those girlie princess movies. They always cheered me up. Of course, my mother always had to remind me the whole “prince coming to rescue the girl thing” was dangerous for my “impressionable mind” and how women need to find their own solutions and not wait for some man to save them. Still, it was nice to escape to fantasyland for a little while. I was deciding between Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty when I saw Ericka’s dad, Mr. Maines, at the cash register. I looked over at the new releases and saw Ericka and T
ori, who were cracking up over a video game display. I ducked down and pretended to be interested in the bottom shelf.

  “Landry, why are you sitting on the floor?” my mom asked.

  I knew she’d wonder why I wasn’t invited to hang out with Tori and Ericka if she saw them in the store, and I didn’t want my mom to know what was going on. She bent down, and I asked her to help me decide between movies. She said I could get them both, and we went to pick up the pizza.

  I tried to concentrate on watching the movie my mom had picked out, but all I could think about was what Ericka and Tori were doing. They were probably having a great time talking about how much they hated me. It was one thing for Ericka to be mad at me because she was always sorta mad about something, but Tori and I had never gotten in a fight before.

  “Landry, stop twirling your hair. You’re getting grease in it,” my mother said.

  My life was over, and she was concerned about greasy hair. She’d probably give my hair a nice rinse before calling 911 if I killed myself. Even if I did die, those two wouldn’t come to my funeral. I bet the school would give the class a half-day to come to my funeral, and everybody would take the afternoon off to hang out.

  “Why’d we get a half-day off?” someone would ask. “Didn’t some girl toss herself off a bridge or something?”