After three minutes of navigating through the crowds of bored-looking teenagers and tired moms pushing strollers, the three of you arrive at the Internet café and pay for thirty minutes of computer time. You quickly log on and type the name on the headset lady’s card—Janice Iverson—into the Google search line. In a flash, a long list of hits comes up. All have Janice’s name in bold. First you read the Wikipedia entry, which confirms that not only is Janice a model scout, but she is the model scout. Even though she’s only in her midthirties, she is responsible for having put half the models in the Calvin Klein ads on the map. She’s the one all the major designers turn to when they need fresh new faces. She got divorced from her CEO husband a few years ago and now plans to start her own agency. She has even started directing her own magazine ads and TV commercials. The friends list on her MySpace page is like a Who’s Who of the fashion industry—the most notable entry being Bebe LaRue herself! It turns out that LaRue is from your hometown. There’s even a recent picture of her accepting the key to the city from your mayor, and Janice is standing in the background.
“I was wondering why in the world a famous designer would have a fashion shoot in this Podunk town. Now it makes sense! It’s her way of giving back to the place where she got her start.”
“See that?” Jessie gushes. “There’s hope for us yet!”
Scrolling through the other Web links, you find pictures of Janice and Tyra Banks, Janice and Ashton Kutcher, Janice and the entire cast of Gossip Girl… “Oh. My. God. She is the real deal!” you say, amazed.
“Exactly!” Jessie shouts. “So you’re gonna do it, right? You should totally do it.”
Lena nods in agreement and claps her hands together. “Yea, verily.”
“But what about the golden tickets?” you ask Jessie. “You’ll be down one Oompa-Loompa to help you search the chocolate factory—”
“Would you shut up about the party and get out of here?” Jessie cuts you off.
“Yeah,” Lena says. “We’ll text you if there are any Shawna sightings. Go forth and be fabulous. Just remember while you’re hanging with the glamazons: to thine ownself be true.”
“Um … Justin Timberlake?” you joke.
“Very funny, you lunkhead.”
“And text us if there are any cute model boys at the shoot that we should see,” Jessie adds, her blue eyes twinkling.
“You guys are the greatest,” you say. “Okay, I’ll do it! One of you call my mom and let her know, okay? And give her Janice’s number.” You hand Janice’s card to Jessie. “Now, just let me log out and … Oh no!” When you notice the clock at the top of the computer screen, you see that you’ve spent so much time online that your twenty minutes are almost up. You’ve blown it already! There’s no way you’ll make it to the Photo Hut in four minutes. Your friends notice the time too.
“Uh-oh,” Lena says. “Looks like it’s time to put those long legs of yours to good use. Run!”
Without another word, you bolt out of your chair and fly out of the Internet café. But just as you’re rounding that first bend, you run right smack into some guy and totally wipe out in the middle of the mall. Ouch! Not your most graceful moment. As you’re lying there staring up at the fluo rescent lights, your head pounding slightly now, you think this is not a good start to your modeling career—assaulting someone on the way to your first shoot. Worse yet, that little crash landing just shaved another thirty seconds off the amount of time you had left to get to the Photo Hut, so you are seriously considering making this a hit-and-run.
But the non-jerky side of you (which, fortunately, is way bigger than your jerky side) decides that you should at least make sure your victim is okay. By the time you finally ease your way onto your feet and walk over to the figure on the floor, he is sitting up with his face turned down, rubbing his forehead, where it looks like a huge knot is developing. You hold out your hand to help him up, and say, “I’m so sorry about that. Are you all right?”
And when he looks up at you, you finally see who it is: Jimmy Morehouse, in all his disheveled glory.
His dark green eyes widen a little when he sees you.
It could just be the bump on your own head, but you think Jimmy seems nervous.
“I—I’ll live … uh, I think,” he stammers, dusting off his PICASSO IS MY HOMEBOY T-shirt. Never has he seemed more crushworthy—even though his floppy brown hair now looks like he just got hit by lightning. “Going somewhere in a hurry?” he asks, grinning a little.
You’re pretty sure that is the longest sentence he’s ever said to you. And his grin kind of makes you want to stay in the hallway with him for the rest of the day, but time is tick-tick-ticking away.
Can you handle this? The model scout is who she says she is, and not an insane kidnapping ax murderer, your friends prove how awesome they are by being crazy supportive, and you’ve just run right into Jimmy (literally, unfortunately)! The question is, will you listen to your head (which is telling you to go live out your modeling dream) or your heart (which is telling you to stay put right where you are with Jimmy, your full-on crush)? There’s only one way to know for sure. Take the quiz to find out!
QUIZ TIME!
Circle your answers and tally up the points at the end.
1. If you were stranded on a desert island with just a DVD player and three movies to watch forever, you would bring:
When Harry Met Sally, The Notebook, 50 First Dates. Those are a few of the most romantic movies you’ve ever seen, and you could spend a lifetime (or however long you’re stuck on that island) watching the characters fall in love. Swoon …
Spider-Man 3, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End. Those movies have plenty of adventure and you’re a sucker for superheroes, wizards, and pirates, but the love stories between Peter Parker and Mary Jane Watson, Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, and of course Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann are what really drive the action.
WALL-E, The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift, The Dark Knight. Sure, there’s a touch of romance in all those movies, but the real focus is on awesome space adventures, fast cars, and dangerous villains—just the way you like it!
Friday the 13th, Shaun of the Dead, Iron Man. Who needs sappy love stories when you can have zombies, a deranged killer in a hockey mask, and one of the coolest comicbook heroes ever? Bring on the fight scenes!
2. The night of your friend’s sleepover is also your parents’ anniversary, and they have planned a romantic evening of dinner at a fancy French bistro and dancing under the stars. But at the last minute the babysitter calls to say she has the flu, so she can’t watch your little brother. You:
cancel your plans immediately and agree to stay home and babysit. Nothing should get in the way of your folks’ having a beautiful candlelit dinner together at a swanky restaurant. There will be other sleepovers.
offer to babysit, but subtly encourage your parents not to stay out too late. If they get home early enough, maybe they’d be willing to drop you off at your friend’s house in time for the “slumber” portion of the slumber party.
agree to babysit, but drop a lot of not-so-subtle hints about how much you were looking forward to the slumber party. Nothing like a good guilt trip to get your parents to reschedule.
try to tiptoe out of the house before your ’rents even realize you’re still there. You’ve had these plans forever and no way are you missing out on all the fun. Besides, it’s just dinner. What’s the big deal?
3. If you could be on any reality show, you would choose:
The Bachelor. They always choose a major dreamboat to be the bachelor, and how romantic would it be to receive the final rose and be proposed to on the beach in front of the whole world?
Beauty and the Geek. Okay, so you probably wouldn’t be paired with your ideal guy, but you firmly believe that there is a little beauty and a little geek in all of us. Plus, if you win, you split a bunch of cool prizes!
So You Think You Can Da
nce. Not only would you learn how to do really beautiful couples dances, like the waltz and the tango, but you could win a ton of money, go on tour, and be considered America’s favorite dancer!
Amazing Race. You can see it now: you and your BFF traveling to exotic places, like Morocco and China, following clues, performing crazy tasks, and doing your best to outsmart the other teams. Talk about exciting!
4. The guy your best friend likes is moving away and she is heart broken. How do you comfort her?
By telling her that you’re sure if the two of them are meant to be, they will meet again somehow. And in the meantime, think of all the romantic letters they can send each other!
By taking her to your older brother’s baseball practice. There will be a lot of boys there, and it might help your friend realize that there are other fish in the sea.
You let her vent, then try to distract her by inviting her to your house for a marathon of all the scariest nonromantic movies you can think of. A little Halloween, anyone?
You tell her to move on and think about something else. He’s just a boy, after all. Why sit around crying over him when you could be playing soccer or riding your bikes in the park?
5. It’s your aunt’s birthday and you’re trying to pick out a card. Which one do you go with?
The really sappy one with the long poem about what a great aunt she is. You would never say that stuff to her face, but that’s how you feel, and you know she’ll be touched.
The one that has a single flower on the front and just says “Happy Birthday.” Inside you write a brief personal message telling her you love her. It’s simple and elegant and gets right to the point.
The funny one with the barrel of monkeys inside. The best birthday present you can think of is a big belly laugh.
You decide cards are too cheesy. You’ll just wish her a happy birthday when you see her. No need to get all mushy about it.
Give yourself 1 point for every time you answered A, 2 points for every B, 3 points for every C, and 4 points for every D.
—If you scored between 5 and 12, go to chapter 4
—If you scored between 13 and 20, go to chapter 5
Sweet! Looks like you are a real go-getter! Your friends might think you’re off your rocker sometimes, but you know that you’re just living life to the fullest. You are determined not to let silly fears get in the way of doing things that are exciting. Every day for you is one big adventure! But do your friends and family a favor and look before you leap, Ms. Daredevil. Even skydivers make sure they’ve got extra parachutes.
Do you want to be a model? Well, duh! You didn’t TiVo the last three seasons of America’s Next Top Model for nothing. Who wouldn’t want to model? Free clothes, cool people, traveling all over the world … and did you mention the free clothes?
Before the scout has a chance to change her mind, you cry, “Let’s go!” Whoops! Almost forgot your friends and why you were at the mall to begin with. “I’m so sorry I won’t be able to help you find Shawna, but you guys understand, right?”
“Are you mental? Of course we understand!” Jessie insists.
“Yeah, just keep your Sidekick handy in case we have any Shawna updates,” Lena adds. “And remember: ‘Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.’”
“Hmmm … wise words,” Jessie says. “Paris Hilton?” She grins at you. You both love messing with Lena this way, since you know it drives her crazy.
Lena rolls her eyes. “Hardly. It’s from Twelfth Night.”
You and Jessie give her a blank stare.
“You know, Shakespeare?”
Jessie shrugs. “Never heard of im. Has he been in any movies I might have seen? Or does he have a reality show coming out on VH1?”
“Ugh, you’re hopeless,” Lena says, catching on. She gives Jessie a playful shove, then turns back to you, smiling sheepishly. “It’s just my way of saying good luck. Now go achieve some greatness!”
“I’ll try,” you say, and hug them both. Then you turn to the mysterious ninja. “All right, I’m ready!”
“Finally,” headset lady says. “By the way, my name is Janice Iverson.” Good. Now you can stop calling her “headset lady.” She shakes your hand and quickly examines your finger nails. Thank goodness you gave yourself a manicure the day before. Janice nods curtly at you and then touches her hand to her headset. “Steve? Yeah. I’ve got one. Get the clothes laid out and have the consent forms ready to fax to her guardian. We’re on our way. Be there in four minutes.”
And just like that, the two of you are off and running. Well, you’re running. Janice just seems to be making these long strides, like a giraffe. You have to take three or four steps for every one of hers, but you don’t care. You’re on your way to a real-life photo shoot! How awesome is that?
Janice has barely hung up from her call with Steve when her phone rings again. “What is it now?” she barks. “What do you mean Natasha fell off her stilettos and her leg is broken? Unacceptable! I don’t care how long the hospital wants to keep her there. I’m already being forced to make do with an amateur for the LaRue shoot.” She steals a backward glance at you. “I don’t really have time to audition more girls for the face-wash commercial. So unless Natasha’s leg has actually fallen off, she’d better show up!” Janice slams the phone shut and you can practically see the steam coming out of her ears. Scary!
When you get to the Photo Hut, everything is a little surreal. This is the same place where families go to make cheesy holiday postcards. There is usually a crying baby in the corner, posing with a giant beach ball or something. And there are all these completely fake-looking backgrounds, like the sky with perfect white clouds, or big trees with red and orange leaves falling. But not today. All that stuff has been covered up with crisp white sheets, and instead of the little old man who usually works the camera, trying to get toddlers to smile by shaking a Dora the Explorer doll at them, there are three or four youngish photographers pacing around, setting up lights and what look like huge umbrellas. You have to admit, it’s a lot classier than usual, but still … why would they choose this place as a location when they could have done the shoot in Paris, Milan, or New York City? The first kernel of doubt enters your mind. Is this thing for real?
Just then you spot a row of director’s chairs to your left, where the other models are getting their hair blown out and teased. You’re pretty sure you’ve seen at least two of them in Delia’s catalogs. And is that the guy from the Abercrombie & Fitch ads? Just like that, the kernel of doubt pops. This is real, all right! After Steve takes care of faxing your mom the consent forms—which she agrees to sign (phew!)—you are ushered to the right side, where there is another director’s chair and a huge brightly lit mirror. “Sheila!” Janice barks. “This one needs makeup, pronto!”
A harried-looking brunette woman comes flying out from behind a white curtain, carrying what looks like a tackle box. “I’m on it,” she tells Janice, who strides away, yelling, “Steve! Are those clothes ready?”
Sheila shakes her head at Janice’s back. “I swear, she’s gonna give herself an ulcer one of these days. Hi, I’m Sheila, and you must be our brand-new model. Well, welcome aboard. Is this your first time? Sure, of course it is. I can tell by the condition of your face. You don’t moisturize, do you? You’ve got to learn to moisturize every night. It’s never too soon to start practicing good skin-care habits. I mean, look at me. How old would you say I am? Thirty-one? Thirty-three tops, right? Well, I’m forty-six! I know! Hard to believe, isn’t it? It’s all about the skin. We used to give all the models deep-cleaning facials before the shoots, but with the budget cuts and all … Ooh, don’t tell anyone I said that. Ms. LaRue doesn’t like to acknowledge that even she’s had to cut back. I mean, why else would we be shooting at—no offense—this tacky Photo Hut? Sure, she’ll tell you it’s because this month marks the anniversary of when she launched her fashion line and since she’s from thi
s town and actually used to work in this dump, she wanted to honor the place where she got her start, but between you and me … she just wanted to save a few bucks. I guess the good ol’ days of jetting off to Saint-Tropez at a moment’s notice are gone.” Sheila heaves a deep sigh. “But anyway, where was I? Oh, right. Proper skin care …”
The whole time Sheila is talking, she is rubbing foundation onto your face, pulling a pencil across your eyebrows, and running a finger dabbed with pink lipstick across your lips. She hasn’t let you get a word in edgewise, but that’s fine, since you really wouldn’t know what to say anyway. The whole thing feels like a weird dream. You’re sitting here having your makeup done by a professional, and someone is scrambling in the back to get your wardrobe together. It’s like you’re at some fancy event in an area where only VIPs are allowed—and for once, that means you!
“Helloooo, earth to New Girl,” Sheila is saying, snapping her fingers in front of your face. “Wake up. Your makeup is done. Head over to hair. Chop-chop.”
“Right … sorry. I m-mean, thanks,” you stammer. You rush to the other bank of chairs, and before you even settle back in your seat, there are a brush in your hair and a blow dryer whirring over your head. The man doing the styling is asking you questions too, probably about your split ends, but you can’t hear him, so you just keep saying, “What? What?” He gives up and continues his work in silence. It normally takes you almost an hour to get your hair whipped into something that resembles a style, but this guy is done in a matter of minutes. He spins the chair around so that you are facing the mirror, and you are totally shocked by what you see. Between the makeup and the glammed-up do, you barely recognize yourself. It’s you, but a way chicer version of you. Wow!
Your Life, but Better Page 3