Gorgeous. Part 20

"Were you at the party Sat.u.r.day night?" I asked her.

Susannah blushed. "Well, not at the...Did you mean mine? I just had a few people over. Well, two people. So it wasn't, like, a party, not like the one everybody...So, I guess most people didn't really want to come to mine so much, but I didn't think ninth graders...I texted you about it, but you didn't...So, I just figured you were at the..."

"Sorry," I said. "I didn't get your text."

"No, no, mine was way boring anyway. No worries," Susannah said, and smiled weakly. "Plenty of chips left, if you want to come over sometime..."

"Sounds great," I said.

Jade walked by fast, ignoring me even when I called her name. I followed her to first period and slipped into my seat, feeling everyone's eyes on me.

"Allison?" the Fascist asked.

"What?" I asked defensively. Did she think I really cared what she she thought about how I looked? thought about how I looked? Could everybody just stop looking at me like that, please? Could everybody just stop looking at me like that, please?

She handed me a slip of paper. I'd apparently been chosen to present as Gouverneur Morris at the Wednesday a.s.sembly. "Congratulations," she said, beaming at me. "You did a good job. You've really pulled yourself together lately." Then she whispered, "And you look terrific, too. Good luck on the final!"

I cursed silently for having forgotten all about the social studies final, having been too busy not studying for the English final to pay decent attention to not studying for this one. I chewed on my pen and listened to the clock tick as I made my guesses about events in history. If I didn't decide soon whether to go be a model or stay in school flunking finals, the decision would be made for me. When the bell rang to end first period, I checked my wallet. Yes, there was twenty-seven dollars in it; I could get a round-trip train ticket for sure. So that wouldn't settle it for me. Something had to.

On the way out of the cla.s.sroom, I grabbed Jade. "My phone died," I told her. "Did you get my messages?"

She stared at my fingers on her sleeve until I let go. "What did you do to yourself?" she asked.

I forced myself not to touch my hair. "I needed a change."

"You look like a freak," she whispered. "And when we text, I would appreciate it if you didn't copy it to every person in your contact list."

"What?" I yelled. "I didn't!"

She was walking away, with Serena following. Serena daringly turned around fast and mouthed, "Yes, you did!"

Then, with a quick glance at Jade, she dashed back to me and held up her phone. On it was a text from me to her: Roxie Green is a jealous s.l.u.t.

I just stood there with my mouth hanging open.

"Allison?"

I turned around. It was Tyler. I walked away from him.

"Hey," he said. "Wait up!"

I didn't. I kept walking. I walked right out of school.

He followed me. "Where are you going?"

"Train station," I called back, over my shoulder.

"Why?" He had caught up to me.

"To be a model," I said, without looking at him.

"Oh," he said.

"You'll be late for second period," I said after a few moments.

"Yeah," he said. He touched my hair near the back of my neck with his fingertips.

"What?" I asked.

"Fierce," he said.

"I'm thinking of bleaching it," I said.

"Cool," he said. "Um, I got your text."

Fantastic, I thought. Why don't I chop my own head off? Why don't I chop my own head off? "It wasn't intended for you," I said. "It wasn't intended for you," I said.

"Oh," he said. "Roxie was pretty devastated...."

"She got it too?"

He nodded.

"About her being jealous?"

"'Jealous s.l.u.t,' I think was the phrase."

"My phone is possessed."

"You mentioned that."

We walked awhile without talking, until I stopped in front of him. "Look," I said. "I know what happened Sat.u.r.day night."

"What happened?" he asked, all innocent, but he blushed deep red. That was all the proof I needed.

"Please," I said. "It's fine, you don't owe me anything, we're not going out or anything, though she is going out with your best friend, which is kind of lousy of you both, by the way."

"Allison, that's completely-"

"But would you please do me the favor of not trailing me around town? I have a train to catch." I sounded so like my mother I almost smiled, so I quickly pivoted and walked away.

He caught up again.

"Roxie is my friend, too," he said. "She's physical; she's flirty. That doesn't make her a s.l.u.t. I wasn't hooking up with her; we were just hanging out."

"Right."

He grabbed my arm. "You're right, okay, I know we're not going out. But you are, like, the hottest girl I know, and I can't tell if you like me or hate me or what."

We stood there on the sidewalk, facing each other. I came up to his neck. It was a nice neck, and I noticed he had sort of puffy lips, nice ones. "I'm what?"

"Hot," he said. "Totally hot. And kind of a b.i.t.c.h."

I thought about that for a few seconds.

"What?" he asked.

"It's easier to believe the bad part."

"They're both true."

I felt a weird bubble of giggles rising again. "Wait a sec," I said. "You like me because of how I look?"

He shrugged. "That's part of it. What?"

"It's just so funny."

"Why?" he asked, reddening again. "Were you interested in me, if you were, because of my deep intellectual or philanthropic virtues? Or because you liked how I look?"

"Your vocabulary," I said.

"Well, some of us are shallow. What time's your train?"

"I don't know," I admitted.

We started walking again, and as we rounded the corner by the train station, he asked, "So you really are a model?"

A train was pulling up. I started to run for it and he ran with me. "I have no idea," I said. I took the stairs two at a time and got into the train before the doors closed.

"Good luck," he said.

"I'll need it." The doors closed. He might have been saying, No, you don't, No, you don't, but I couldn't be sure. I slumped down in my seat and concocted excuses about my grandmother or an interns.h.i.+p in case the conductor demanded an explanation for why I was on the train during school hours. The only thing he asked me for was my money, plus the extra for buying my ticket on the train. but I couldn't be sure. I slumped down in my seat and concocted excuses about my grandmother or an interns.h.i.+p in case the conductor demanded an explanation for why I was on the train during school hours. The only thing he asked me for was my money, plus the extra for buying my ticket on the train.

I tried to find the subway I'd taken with Roxie, but there were so many people going in so many directions I ended up standing still and getting spun around like a kid wearing a blindfold in Pin the Tail on the Donkey. Great, Great, I was thinking. I was thinking. I'll just spin here until I'm dizzy and then crawl on home. I'll just spin here until I'm dizzy and then crawl on home. I took out my phone to check the time and before I remembered that my phone was dead, I saw that it wasn't. It was alive and fully juiced, with one text message. It was from Quinn. I took out my phone to check the time and before I remembered that my phone was dead, I saw that it wasn't. It was alive and fully juiced, with one text message. It was from Quinn.

Where r u?

As I stood there getting jostled and trying to decide what to text back, the phone rang in my hand.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"Change of venue," the vaguely British, possibly male voice said. "There was an elevator disaster and obviously Filonia won't walk up stairs."

"Oh," I said.

"Are you writing this down? You need to go to Filonia's studio. Do you have that address?"

"No," I said.

He sighed and told me an address.

"I'm at Grand Central," I said, faking Mom's take-charge manner. "What's the best way to get there?"

"Take a cab," he said. "Or else the shuttle to the 1 to Christopher..."

"I'll take a cab," I said. "Thanks." He hung up before I could ask how much he thought it would cost.

After wandering around and getting distracted by the amazing painted ceiling for a little while, I found my way out to a taxi line and, when I got in the cab, told him the address. Off we went, like this was a totally reasonable thing for me to be doing.

It took about a half hour of beeping and jolting. Twice I almost threw up, but finally we got there. Wherever there there was. Filonia's studio. I paid the driver with a ten and he didn't give me any change even though the meter said only $9.70. was. Filonia's studio. I paid the driver with a ten and he didn't give me any change even though the meter said only $9.70. Whatever. Keep the change. Whatever. Keep the change.

He peeled out as I was slamming the door.

I pushed the b.u.t.ton next to the Filonia Studio. It was only one thirty but I was scared to just wander around. My stomach growled, but I didn't think I could very well plop down on the sidewalk and eat my lunch there. The door buzzed loudly. By the time I realized I was supposed to pull it, it had stopped buzzing and I had to press the b.u.t.ton again.

In the tiny elevator going up to the fourth floor, it hit me that I probably should have worn some makeup. Then the door slid open and there was no turning back.

22.

A SHORT WOMAN DRESSED SHORT WOMAN DRESSED all in white frowned at me. "You can put your clothes over there," she said, gesturing to a chair and walking away. The room was all white, too, but filled with lights, clamps, and props like a large ceramic banana and a wall full of hats on hooks. all in white frowned at me. "You can put your clothes over there," she said, gesturing to a chair and walking away. The room was all white, too, but filled with lights, clamps, and props like a large ceramic banana and a wall full of hats on hooks.

"My what?" My entire body started shaking. "Put my what?"

"Clothes," said a girl in jeans and a black T-s.h.i.+rt, who seemed to materialize out of nowhere. She was pointing at my backpack. "Why don't you unpack and let Filonia see what you brought?"

"I brought my books," I said.

They stared at me.

"Was I supposed to bring other clothes?"

"Are you here for the modeling shoot?" the woman in white said. "Or are you the delivery girl?"

I wasn't sure, so I just stood there and tried not to cry. "Are you Alison Avery?" The girl in the jeans was reading off a large index card. I nodded. "I'm Seven," she said. "Come with me and we'll do your makeup."

"You're what?" I asked, following her. My mother would kill me, I was thinking, and she would be totally right.

"That's my name," the girl said. "Seven. Sit right here and let's take a look." She turned a light on and looked at my face.

"Your real name?"

"It is now," she said. "I chose it."