by La Jill Hunt
Uncle Julian laughed. “Not yet. Bali is fine. We got matching tattoos last weekend, Devyn. I keep forgetting you don’t have social media. We put the video on Instagram and got so many likes. I’ve got to send you pics. It hurt like hell. Do you have any tattoos? You probably don’t.”
“No, Uncle Julian, I don’t, and I can’t believe you do. And I won’t believe it until I see it.” Devyn laughed at the thought of her once-conservative uncle now getting tatted.
“Things we do for love, I guess. I transferred a little something into your account, so check it and make sure it’s there.”
“You didn’t have to do that. I have a job now, remember?”
Despite Devyn insisting to Uncle Julian that he didn’t need to send her a monthly allowance, he still did. Since he had no children of his own, he always treated her as if she were his daughter instead of his niece. She was appreciative but felt guilty. As she grew up, one of her goals was to one day spoil her uncle and mother. Now, her mother was gone, and he was the one spoiling her.
“Don’t tell me what not to do. Promise me you won’t use it on plastic surgery. You don’t need to go under the knife to return to modeling.”
“I promise,” Devyn sighed. “It was just an idea, I guess, and a bad one. Honestly, although I loved modeling, it isn’t what I want to do anymore.”
“You have always been special, Devyn. And it’s so much more than your looks. There is something in you that only you can give to the world and share with others. Sometimes in life, we think we’re headed one way, then shit happens, God pivots us, and we are sent in a totally new direction. Stop looking back and move forward, sweetie.”
“I love you, Uncle Julian. You are my most favorite uncle in the whole world.” Devyn wiped the tears caused by the love and motivation she’d just received.
“That’s because I’m your only uncle in the whole wide world, Devyn. I love you too. Speak soon.” The call ended, and seconds later, she got a text with a picture of him smiling alongside Ramon, displaying the matching infinity hearts on their arms. Her uncle was right. His life had turned in a whole new direction, and he’d found happiness.
The pity party, disrupted by her uncle’s phone call, was over. Devyn started the car engine and was about to head home when she got another text. This one from Asha, asking that she call her ASAP. Devyn instructed Siri to dial the number.
“Damn, that was fast. I figured you’d be in class,” Asha told her.
“I had a doctor’s appointment. I left school early.”
“Everything okay?” Asha had the same amount of worry in her voice as her uncle when she mentioned going to the doctor. She hated that just the mention of an appointment sent her loved ones into panic mode.
“Yeah, standard checkup. Nothing’s changed. Still stuck with the illness, but I’m still alive,” Devyn said sarcastically.
“Cool. Wait, so, where are you now? Can you meet me at the Convention Center?” Asha’s voice was low.
“Uh, yeah, I guess. What’s going on?”
“I . . . We need your help. I’ll explain when you get here. Come to Meeting Room B on the second floor,” Asha said, then hung up.
Devyn arrived fifteen minutes later. The first thing she saw when she walked inside the lobby of the building was a small group of what had to be models. It was a damn setup. Obviously, there was an open call of some sort that Asha was trying to dupe her into participating in.
“This is that bullshit,” Devyn mumbled as she walked past the group of beautiful women, toward the elevators, trying not to stare at their tall, slender, perfect bodies. As she rode to the second floor, she practiced the cursing out she planned on giving her friend in her head. Undoubtedly, Asha meant well, but Devyn had no desire to get back into the field that once brought her so much joy.
Unlike the first floor, the second floor of the building was empty. Devyn wondered if Asha had given her the wrong room number. The doors to Meeting Room B were closed. She paused before slowly pulling them open. She didn’t see anyone in the large, empty space when she poked her head in.
“Good, you’re here.” Asha’s voice came from the corner.
Devyn stepped in a little farther and saw her friend, along with three other women: two young, Black girls, and an older white woman. The white woman seemed to be consoling one of the Black girls sitting in a chair, visibly upset.
“What’s going on?” Devyn asked.
“We’ll be right back,” Asha said to the ladies before grabbing Devyn by the arm and escorting her out the door and into the hallway.
“What am I doing here, and why is that girl crying?” Devyn’s brows furrowed. “And this better not have anything to do with what’s going on downstairs.”
“It does,” Asha said. Then before Devyn could object, she quickly added, “But it’s not what you think.”
“You don’t even know what I think,” Devyn retorted. “But, please explain. And before you start, you already know the answer if you’re about to try to tell me about whatever they’re casting for down there—”
“Devyn, can you please shut up for one second? No one is trying to get you to model. Those girls aren’t even here for a casting call,” Asha informed her.
“They aren’t?”
“No. They’re applying to be in a beauty pageant.”
“A beauty pageant? What?” Devyn almost laughed. Asha had to know damn well that a beauty pageant would be the last thing she’d be interested in. “Why the hell would I enter a beauty pageant, Asha?”
“You wouldn’t, but the two girls in there did. That’s why I called you,” she said. “For help.”
“I’m so damn confused.” Devyn shook her head. “Help with what? How do you even know those girls?”
“I don’t. I came by to pick up some invoices from Gail, the white woman. We were talking when, all of a sudden, this girl came flying by, crying.”
“The one sitting in the chair.”
“Yeah. She runs into the bathroom, and her friend comes running behind her. And you know me.” Asha shrugged.
“Your nosy ass ran in there to check on ’em.” Devyn shook her head. “Asha, the Angel, always to the rescue.”
“I just wanted to make sure they were okay. And the girl explained how she’d interviewed time and time again to be in this pageant, and the coordinator won’t accept her. The coordinator keeps saying she isn’t ‘pageant ready.’” Asha continued. “The girl is gorgeous, Devyn. She showed me her application and her portfolio. There’s no reason that woman shouldn’t allow her to compete.”
“Asha, that sucks, but what the hell does that have to do with you or me, for that matter? We are going to roll up in there and demand that they allow her in? This ain’t our crusade, sis. It’s a pageant,” Devyn told her.
“No, that’s not what I want. Come in. I’ll let them tell you.” Asha opened the door. They went back into the ballroom and walked over to the ladies. “This is my friend, Devyn.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Gail, one of the sales directors here, and this is Journi.” Gail looked at the girl standing beside her, then looked at the young lady sitting in the chair and said, “And this is Dionne.”
“Hi.” Devyn nodded to all three.
“Well, I’ve kind of explained to Devyn a little bit of what’s going on,” Asha said.
Journi nodded. “I don’t know why Ms. Thompkins is treating her like that. I don’t even wanna be in the stupid pageant anymore. The only reason I was doing it was that Dionne asked me to do it with her.”
“So, you got in?” Asha asked.
“Yeah. Barely. She told me they’d be in contact. Then she told me the competition was stiff, and I shouldn’t get any high hopes of winning, but at least I’d have some pageant experience,” Journi said.
“That’s horrible.” Gail shook her head.
“At least you got in. I didn’t even get that. She keeps telling me I need ‘training.’” Dionne sniffed. Even with her eyes puffy from crying and her tear
-strewn face, Devyn could see how gorgeous she was. Her hair, piled high on her head into a perfect bun, showed off her high cheekbones, thick lashes, and pouty lips set against her smooth skin, the color of a perfect, frosted cappuccino.
“I’m dropping out anyway, so it’s a moot point.” Journi shrugged.
“You can’t drop out. I won’t let you,” Dionne gasped and grabbed her friend’s arm.
“Why should I be in a contest she already told me I’m going to lose?” Journi asked. “This whole thing is dumb, and she’s a bitch.”
Journi’s comment caught Devyn off guard. She was just as gorgeous as Dionne, but with a more natural look and a tone slightly darker. It was apparent that she was the more vocal of the two.
Gail looked over at Devyn and nodded. “She’s right. That woman is a bitch.”
“I know you’re disappointed, but maybe Ms. Thompkins is being selective,” Devyn suggested. “I applied for a lot of jobs in the industry I worked in, and there were many rejections.”
“I get that,” Dionne said, “but she keeps saying that I need training.”
“Okay.” Devyn shrugged, still confused, “Then what’s the problem?”
“None of the coaches around here will train us,” Journi answered. “We’ve tried.”
“I practiced so hard this time. You know I did, Journi,” Dionne whined.
“Yup, every day, Di.” Journi kneeled by her side and rubbed her back. “And you got better. I think she’s just tripping. Your walk is perfect.”
At the word “walk,” Devyn realized why Asha had called. Sure enough, when she glanced over at her friend, she saw the smirk. Devyn went to shake her head, but Asha gave her a nod. Devyn inhaled deeply in preparation for whatever it was Asha was about to say.
“Dev, I mean, maybe you can have Dionne walk for you, and you give her some pointers right quick,” Asha suggested.
Dionne lifted her head and looked at Devyn. “Could you? Please?”
“Sure,” Devyn relented and shrugged.
When Dionne stood, Devyn realized they were the same height, and she had the same slim build that Devyn used to have and would give anything to get back. She studied Dionne as she went to the back of the room. They all turned around and waited.
“Ready?” Dionne asked.
“Whenever you are,” Devyn told her.
“Okay.” Dionne took a deep breath, then stepped toward them, looking more like she was in a parade than on a stage. She continued to the front of the room, twisted around, and stopped. “Hello, I’m Dionne Singleton, a junior from Garrett High. I enjoy modeling, uh, spoken word, and watching Jeopardy. I would like to be an anesthesiologist when I graduate from college.”
“Yesssss, Queen.” Journi clapped and cheered for her friend who gave a broad smile before walking back to where they were standing.
Devyn glanced over at Asha to see her reaction. Their eyes met, and Devyn knew they were thinking the same thing. Dionne was statuesque and beautiful, but she definitely lacked grace, poise, and elegance, all of which were required to compete in a pageant. Unfortunately, Ms. Thompkins was correct. Dionne needed work—and a lot of it.
“How was it?” Dionne nervously asked Devyn.
Devyn looked at Asha, hoping she’d answer, but she didn’t. Not wanting to be the bearer of bad news and cause the girl to have another emotional breakdown, Devyn turned to Journi, instead, and said, “You’re next. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Journi looked surprised. “Me?”
“Yeah, she went, so, now, it’s your turn.” Devyn nodded.
Journi followed the same path that Dionne had earlier, first walking to the back of the room, then making her way to the front. Each step she took was intentional, and her head remained up, eyes forward and focused. She turned on one foot, then gave her introduction. “Greetings. I’m Journi Jacobs, a junior at Garrett High School. I enjoy reading, dancing, and fashion. I plan to become a political analyst for a major television news network.”
“Okayyyy.” Dionne beamed.
In addition to her overall presentation, Journi’s walk, although not perfect, was better than Dionne’s. There was an air of confidence and tenacity in her strides. But like Dionne, she still needed a lot of work.
“Very nice, ladies.” Gail clapped. “You’re both amazing. I think Ms. Thompkins is crazy.”
“What do you think?” Asha whispered. “Be honest.”
“I think they’re both cute girls, but I don’t know.” Devyn sighed. “Dionne hunches her shoulder, and you can tell she’s trying not to look down. She also has poor diction.”
“Journi had a strut, though. It was a model walk.” Asha’s voice was low. “She mentioned she’d modeled a couple of times.”
“I can tell that. But . . .”
“Were we that bad?” Journi asked.
Devyn saw that all eyes were on her. “No, not bad. Just . . . novices.”
“This is pointless. So, Ms. Thompkins was right. I give up.” Dionne wailed and threw her hands in the air.
“Wait, wait,” Asha said. “You asked her for pointers, and you’re not even giving her the chance to voice them.”
The two girls looked at Asha, then at each other, then back at Devyn. For a moment, she just stared back at them. How am I supposed to teach something that has always come naturally to me? She took a minute to gather her thoughts, recalling everything she’d developed that helped her perfect her walk. Posture, poise, personality, she thought.
“Okay, Journi, you’ve been in fashion shows, huh?” Devyn asked.
“Yeah, a few. I just started modeling a couple of months ago,” she said nodding.
“There’s a difference in walking on a runway in a fashion show compared to walking on stage in a pageant. When you’re on a runway, you’re selling whatever you’re wearing. That’s what’s on display.” Devyn closed her eyes, composed herself, then made the same walk that the girls had done, but in such a manner that the black cardigan she wore seemed to flow with each step. She then did a quick turn while slipping the sweater off and tossing it over her shoulder, then momentarily pausing before she strutted back.
Asha, Gail, and the girls applauded with enthusiasm. Devyn took a slight bow.
“That was freaking awesome,” Journi squealed.
“Thank you. Now, watch this.” Devyn walked again, this time with shorter, yet graceful steps, shoulders back and her head turning from side to side while smiling. It was as if she were a finalist in the Miss Universe Pageant. When she finished, they all stared at her. “See the difference? When you’re in a pageant, you’re selling yourself, your personality. That’s what you want the judges to buy.”
“Ooooh,” Journi and Dionne said simultaneously.
“That’s deep, Dev.” Asha nodded.
“Come on, let me show you.” Devyn took the girls on each side of her and demonstrated. Fifteen minutes later, they’d improved tremendously.
“Now, do you see why I called you? I knew you could help.” Asha nudged her as they watched the girls walk across the floor.
“They’re still not all that great, Asha,” Devyn sighed. “But they do have lots of potential.”
“They’re a hundred times better than they were. And look at Dionne. Her head isn’t even looking down anymore,” Asha pointed out. “You did good, Dev. And for what it’s worth, you still got it.”
“Thanks, Ash.” Devyn leaned her head on Asha’s shoulder, then announced. “Well, ladies, I’m glad we were able to help. It was nice meeting you, and we wish you the best.”
“Goodbye, ladies.” Asha waved.
“Wait, Miss Devyn, hold up.” Journi ran over, followed by Dionne.
“What’s up?” Devyn asked.
“I was wondering if maybe, you could train me for the pageant.” Journi smiled. “I can pay you.”
“And me too. I mean, I know I’m not a contestant in this one, but I still want to train so that I can be ready for the next one. Can you help me, Mis
s Devyn?” Dionne folded her hands as if she were praying. “Please?”
“That’s sweet, but I’m not a coach. You two need to keep looking until you find someone who can help you guys,” Devyn told them.
“We don’t need anyone else. You’re the one who can really help us. Look at what we’ve learned in these few minutes,” Journi responded.
“This wasn’t a class or a workshop.” Devyn shook her head.
“It seemed like it to me,” Gail interjected.
“Ladies, give us a minute,” Asha said, then told Devyn. “Let’s chat outside.”
“Ash, before you even suggest it, the answer is no,” Devyn whispered when they got into the hallway.
“Why not? You’re good, and they need you. Plus, they’re willing to pay. Check it, while you were teaching them, I Googled pageant coaching, and you wouldn’t believe how much these chicks charge, Devyn. You can do this. And you have pageant and modeling experience,” Asha pointed out.
“Pageant experience? When?” Devyn frowned.
“You won Miss Black and Gold our senior year in college,” Asha reminded her.
“That wasn’t a real pageant, fool. That was a popularity contest on stage, and I was dating the president of the Alphas. I was gonna win regardless.” Devyn shook her head.
“You can do this,” Asha repeated herself. “Help them, Dev. I promise I got your back. Whatever you need. You know I wouldn’t be pushing if I thought you couldn’t do it.”
As crazy as the idea sounded, something deep down told Devyn that Asha was right. Runway modeling was something she loved but could no longer do. But was it possible for her to teach?
“Fine. I’ll try, Asha. But I’m not doing this by myself,” Devyn warned.
“Dev, you’ve got me by your side, always.” Asha hugged her.
Chapter 6
Asha
“I’m telling you, Sully, it was one of the most magical things I’d ever seen in my life. Devyn had those girls walking like professionals within minutes. And when she walked back in there and told them she’d be their coach, it was like they’d won the lottery.” Asha grinned at Sully, who was driving. It was Friday night, and as promised, he’d taken her to dinner to celebrate, and now, they were headed back to his place.