“Hydration,” Kate told her.
“Yes, I understand that concept. But why?”
“Water is good for you, Chelsea. And you’re going to need to be hydrated today.” Kate studied Chelsea’s outfit, which was simply cargo pants, a T-shirt, and flip-flops. “Good choice of clothes,” Kate said as she started her car.
“Really?” Chelsea experienced a tinge of hope. “You like it?”
“Not especially.” Kate laughed. “No offense. I mean, it’s not a very flattering look. But I do like that it’ll be easy to get in and out of. You’ll be doing a lot of trying on today.”
As it turned out, that was putting it mildly. Chelsea’s best estimate was that by the end of the day, she had tried on about two hundred items of clothing. She didn’t even think that was much of an exaggeration. “That seems like an awful lot of work for just a couple of bags of clothes,” she told Kate as they loaded the bags into the car.
“Oh, this was just the beginning.”
Chelsea groaned. “I don’t want to seem unappreciative, but what else do you think I really need? I mean, I do have more clothes at home, you know.”
“I know.” Kate’s tone suggested that she was unimpressed. “We’re going to work on that too.”
“I don’t really see the point.” Chelsea sighed loudly. “I mean, you can dress me differently, but I’m still the same girl underneath.”
“Of course you’ll be the same girl on the inside,” Kate said. “That’s the best part of you anyway.”
“Really?” Chelsea brightened.
“Absolutely.” Kate smiled at her. “But I think your exterior is hurting your interior.”
Chelsea didn’t say anything.
“The reason I know this is true is because I used to be a lot like you.”
“Huh?” Chelsea turned and stared at Kate. “What do you mean exactly?”
“I mean I was an ugly duckling.”
“No way.”
Kate chuckled. “Way.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Well, I don’t have many photos—because I used to hide every time a camera came out. But I have a few. And if I can dig them out, you’ll see that I wore glasses, had braces—”
“I had braces too!”
“I know.”
“Dad told you?”
“No, I can tell by your teeth. Like me, you need to use a tooth whitener now.”
“Really?” Her hand flew up to her mouth. Now there was something she hadn’t even noticed. And that made her wonder—just how bad was she?
“Don’t worry, Chelsea.” Kate’s voice was reassuring. “The good news is that everything that’s wrong with you—the outside of you—can be easily fixed.”
“Easily fixed?” Chelsea felt seriously skeptical.
“You bet. And I have to say, you’ve even got more going for you right now than I had when I was your age.”
“I need to see those photos.”
Kate laughed. “I’ll see if I can find them.”
“But seriously, how could you possibly have been any, uh, worse-looking than me?” Chelsea felt her face. Just this morning several new zits had appeared.
“I had a bad complexion too,” Kate said. “But I found this really great product that’s still on the market. I swear that alone changed my life. And I’ve already ordered you some.”
“Really?” Chelsea felt a wave of hope. “And it works?”
“It did for me.” She glanced at Chelsea. “I’m sure it’ll work for you too. And the other thing you have going for you is your figure.”
“My figure?” Chelsea looked down at herself. She’d finally gotten breasts just last year, but now she didn’t even know what to do with them. Compared to other girls, it seemed like too little too late.
“Your figure is perfect, Chelsea. But you do need some new underwear—specifically some good bras. Seriously, where did you get the stuff you’re wearing?”
Chelsea felt her cheeks grow warm. “I don’t know . . . Penney’s, I think.”
“Well, we’re going to address that too.” Kate started talking about Brazilian hair-straightening procedures and spray-on tans and French manicures and pedicures and exfoliating facials . . . and Chelsea felt like she was in way over her head.
She held up her hands as Kate pulled up to Chelsea’s house. “I’m not sure what all you’re talking about, Kate. But I’ve made a decision.”
Kate looked concerned. “You’re not chickening out, are you?”
Chelsea shook her head. “No, I’m taking a leap of faith.”
“A leap of faith?”
“I’m putting myself in your hands.”
Kate broke into a huge grin. “Oh, Chelsea, you won’t be sorry. I promise.”
Chelsea nodded. “Well, it occurred to me that you can’t do any worse than I’ve done. Any improvement is probably worthwhile. And don’t worry, I don’t expect miracles.”
Kate threw back her head and laughed. “Well, you should. Trust me, you’re going to see miracles.”
Chelsea knew better than to get her hopes up, but Kate’s enthusiasm was contagious. When Kate grabbed one of the clothing bags and followed Chelsea into the house, casually informing her that she was fixing dinner for the three of them tonight, Chelsea was surprised to realize that she was actually sort of glad about this. Was it possible that she was beginning to like Kate?
“I think you should give your dad a fashion show,” Kate told Chelsea as they were finishing up dinner.
Dad nodded. “I’d love to see what you girls got.”
Chelsea frowned at him. “I don’t think so.”
Kate looked disappointed as she began to clear the table.
“The clothes are all nice and everything.” Chelsea stood too, picking up her plate and the salad bowl. “It’s just that I’m not ready to put them all on again. Okay?” She forced a smile. “How about if I clean this up and you guys can go relax?”
Dad grinned. “You talked me into it.”
“How about an after-dinner walk?” Kate suggested.
With Dad and Kate gone, Chelsea cranked up the music and put kitchen cleaning into high gear. She’d been surprised to see that Kate was a fairly good cook. Of course, anyone could make spaghetti. But it was somewhat reassuring to know that Kate knew her way around a kitchen. It helped to erase the wicked stepmother image.
Chelsea was just heading to her room when Dad and Kate returned from their walk. “Hey, Chels,” Kate called out. “How about if we take that inventory of your closet now?”
Chelsea wanted to say, “Thanks, but no thanks,” but Kate looked so hopeful as she hurried to catch up with her.
“If you clean stuff out now, it’ll make it that much easier to pack it up when moving time comes.”
“I guess.” Chelsea cautiously opened the door to her room. “It’s just that it’s kind of messy in here and—”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I used to be a total slob. I doubt you can surprise me much.” Kate headed directly for Chelsea’s closet.
As if today hadn’t been hard enough—trying on outfit after outfit and being scrutinized again and again—letting anyone (especially perfect Kate) look in her closet was way beyond Chelsea’s comfort zone. Still, she was determined to cooperate. She understood that Kate was simply trying to help, and on some levels Chelsea did appreciate it. Pressing her lips together, she sat on the edge of her bed, watching as Kate removed an armful of clothes and flopped them down on the bed next to Chelsea.
“Okay, this has got to go.” Kate held up a ratty-looking sweatshirt.
Chelsea felt a small wave of regret. That sweatshirt had always felt so nice and loose and comfortable.
“Come on,” Kate urged. “You might as well wear a potato sack as this.”
“Okay.”
Kate tossed the shirt to the floor. “This will be the cast-off pile.” She held up a pair of flared jeans. “These are so last year, Chelsea.” She threw them on top of
the sweatshirt, and Chelsea controlled herself from snatching them back.
“Now this has potential.” Kate held up a plain white shirt. “Nice lines.”
Chelsea frowned at the top. “I had to get that when I was a freshman, because I was in choir and we had to wear white blouses with navy skirts.”
“Does it still fit?”
Chelsea shrugged.
“Come on.” Kate handed her the shirt. “Try it.”
While Chelsea was trying on the shirt, Kate continued thinning Chelsea’s closet. The white shirt as well as some sweaters and a few other basic pieces wound up being keepers, but the cast-off pile looked enormous.
“Are you sure about that?” Chelsea pointed to the mountain of old clothes. “I mean, what am I supposed to wear?”
“Don’t forget about these.” Kate went over to the door, where Chelsea had dropped her bags of clothing. “Let’s hang them up and then we’ll make a list.”
“A list?” Chelsea picked up a bag and emptied the contents onto her bed.
“Sure. We’ll see what you have and I can figure out what you’ll need.”
After they hung up the clothes and Kate had arranged everything in the closet, Chelsea had to admit that it did look better. As Kate combined pieces, showing Chelsea what went with what, Chelsea could almost imagine becoming somewhat stylish. At least more stylish than she’d ever been before.
“You make it look easy,” Chelsea told Kate. “But when I try to put stuff together, it doesn’t work. I just end up looking lame.”
“I have a plan for that too.” Kate smiled knowingly. “Trust me, okay?”
Chelsea just nodded.
“You still need a lot of things, including shoes and a couple of perfect pairs of jeans, and that will take some time,” Kate said, making a list. “And you need some good accessories—belts and bags and those touches that take clothes from being garments to being fashions.”
“How did you learn all this?”
Kate laughed. “I’ve been working in retail clothing stores for years, Chelsea. After a while, it just comes naturally.”
Chelsea felt pretty sure it would never come naturally to her.
“We’ll do some more shopping next weekend,” Kate said, “and next week I’ll make you a hair appointment. And, well, some other things too.” She smiled. “By the time you and your dad move to San Jose, you will look like a whole new person.”
“I’m curious . . .” Chelsea began.
“About what?”
Chelsea questioned the sensibility of asking her question. Except that she wanted to know. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what specifically?”
“Being so helpful with this whole makeover business.” Chelsea watched Kate’s expression carefully.
Kate looked slightly confused. “Do you feel like I’m interfering? Or being too pushy? I know I can be kind of bossy. I hope I haven’t offended you by taking over and—”
“No, that’s not it.” Chelsea stood, forcing herself to look at her reflection in the mirror again. Two days in a row was a record for her. “I mean, why are you so obsessed with this makeover? Is it because you’re embarrassed that I’ll be your stepdaughter?”
“No, of course not.” Kate stood next to Chelsea, putting an arm around her. “It’s simply because I care about you. And like I said, I can relate to you. Wait until I find those photos, Chelsea. Then you’ll get it.”
Chelsea felt tears in her eyes, and she wasn’t even sure why. “I’ll never be as beautiful as you, Kate. It’s not even possible.”
Kate laughed. “Don’t be so sure.” She started doing an inventory on Chelsea. “You and your dad both have the most gorgeous brown eyes. And once we get those brows plucked—professionally—your eyes will be even prettier. And your nose is absolutely perfect.”
“You mean besides that zit?”
Kate laughed again. “You’re just seeing it all wrong. Your lips are nice and full.” She pointed to her own mouth. “I have to do all kinds of lip-liner tricks to make my lips look like that. All you’ll need is some lip gloss.” She went on talking about how Chelsea’s figure was so good. “If you worked out a little, it would probably be flawless. And once we get you wearing the right clothes, people will actually see how great it is.”
Chelsea frowned. She wasn’t sure she wanted anyone to see her figure. She’d gotten so used to covering herself up . . . the idea of being visible and exposed was pretty scary.
“Anyway, don’t worry about it, okay?” Kate patted Chelsea’s cheek. “You’re on the cusp of becoming as beautiful on the outside as you are on the inside. Just think of it, you’ll be going to a new school this fall, and who knows how great your last two years of high school might be.”
Chelsea smiled weakly. As much as she wanted to believe that what Kate was saying could be possible, she remembered that old saying—if something seemed too good to be true, it probably was. Also, she knew from experience that she was foolish to get her hopes up. Mostly she just wanted to humor Kate. It was sweet that Kate cared this much. Hopefully she wouldn’t be too disappointed either.
Kate kept her promise of scheduling all kinds of appointments and treatments for Chelsea’s magical makeover plan. The next few weeks passed in a kind of surreal swirl of beauty procedures and fashion-focused fittings. Chelsea tried to cooperate with Kate’s plans, but there were moments, like the eyebrow “threading” session, when she totally lost it and jumped right out of the chair.
“You want have unibrow?” the Nazi-like woman demanded in her thick east-European accent. She hovered near Chelsea with this string device that was somehow removing hairs one at a time.
Chelsea rubbed her throbbing brow line. “I would like some eyebrows left behind.”
The woman laughed in a mean way. “Don’t worry. You have enough eyebrows for five or six girls. Now you want me continue or not?”
Chelsea hesitantly climbed back into the chair.
“Is the price we pay for beauty,” the woman said in a slightly gentler tone. “You will see.”
Chelsea had reason to trust Kate’s guidance in these matters, because to her utter amazement, Kate’s “secret remedy” for clear skin was actually beginning to work. Chelsea’s complexion had never looked better.
“It hasn’t even been three weeks since I started using it, but that acne stuff is really working,” Chelsea told Kate as they were driving through town. She touched her cheek, still amazed that she hadn’t had a recent breakout. “I mean, I’d seen the ads on TV, you know the ones with the before and after photos, but I figured it was just a hoax. Like how could anything work like that?”
“Well, it probably doesn’t work like that for everyone. But it worked for me, and it obviously is for you too. Just remember that the secret to a good complexion includes a number of things.” Kate nodded at Chelsea. “Including keeping your hands off your face.”
Chelsea put her hand in her lap.
“Cleaning your skin properly is important too. But so is eating right. And drinking water is vital.”
It was the Saturday before Chelsea and Dad would be moving to San Jose. Today they were on their way to the much-anticipated hair and makeup appointment. Kate was calling this the Big Reveal day. Following their visit to Kate’s salon, where they both had appointments, they planned to go back home, dress up, and meet Dad downtown for dinner.
“Now, you’re sure you want to lighten your hair?” Kate asked Chelsea again. “I’d hate to think I influenced you on this. The straightening process alone will make a huge difference.”
“I read that the Brazilian Blowout works better on processed and frizzy hair,” Chelsea reminded her. “My hair’s frizzy enough, but it’s never been processed.”
“That’s true.”
“So I think I want the whole works.” Chelsea nodded. “Unless you think it won’t look good?” She was second-guessing herself again.
“No, I totally think it’ll look good. I just
want it to be your decision, Chelsea. Not mine.”
Chelsea nodded again. “It is my decision.”
“All right.”
Chelsea felt nervous as they went into the salon, but it wasn’t exactly a bad kind of nervous. More like giddy. This whole makeover business had really been growing on her lately. Probably because she had finally started to see some results. The eyebrow thinning had actually been a huge improvement, and the clearing complexion was monumental. Also, she’d been doing the exercise DVD that Kate had given her, as well as using a faux tan product. That was a mess the first time, but after she learned to exfoliate and do some other tricks, it got easier. Now she didn’t even feel embarrassed to wear a sleeveless top and a skirt—pieces that Kate had picked out. And with her recent manicure and pedicure, she didn’t mind having her bare toes showing in the new pair of sandals that Kate had encouraged her to get.
“This will eventually stop costing me money, right?” Dad had commented a few days ago. He hadn’t known that Chelsea was within earshot as he made his complaints to his fiancée. “I just got the bill from the store, and despite the discount, it was a little surprising. Now you’re doing all these beauty treatments too.”
“Hey, Alex, you’ve gotten off pretty easy these past few years,” Kate said in a slightly scolding tone. “I saw Chelsea’s closet, so I know what I’m talking about. Even if it costs you a little more now, you should be thankful for Chelsea’s sake. You might’ve saved some money, but it was all at your daughter’s expense.”
Then it had gotten quiet in the kitchen, and Chelsea suspected that Kate had sweetened her chastisement with a kiss or two. Really, Kate was spot-on. Dad had gotten off cheap since Mom died. Chelsea rarely asked him for a penny when it came to clothes or makeup or anything to do with appearances. In fact, he had usually been the one to nag her to buy a new dress or something. So, she decided, she was not going to start feeling guilty now.
Kate was involved in the initial consultation regarding the correct shade of blonde and how much highlighting seemed best for Chelsea. And Chelsea, like she’d been doing for weeks now, simply trusted Kate’s judgment on this. While the beautician, a pretty brunette named Andrea, applied foil and goopy stuff, Chelsea simply daydreamed.
Jerk Magnet, The (Life at Kingston High Book #1) Page 3
