Girls Only!

by Beverly Lewis

  * * *

  Heather yanked on the locker-room door at Natalie’s Ballet School. Rushing inside, she was eager to get ballet class over for the day. Livvy and the other girls were already dressed and chattering at one of the mirrors, looking at something posted on the wall.

  She couldn’t care less. Not the way she felt at the moment. She wandered over to her own small locker, worked the combination lock, and pulled it open. Inside the locker door, smiling Russian ice dancers taunted her. Yet she knew better than to feel upset about the poster. After all, she’d searched high and low for the fantastic picture of ice dancers Pasha Grishuk and Evgeny Platov. She knew the grueling schedule and dietary provisions these superior skaters certainly must have adhered to, to get what they wanted. To reach their goals and dreams.

  She found herself staring at them, wishing she could speak their language. Wishing she could get a grip on her life as a great skater . . .

  Just then, Jenna and Manda came dashing over to her. “Have you heard?” Jenna said.

  Still almost in a daze, she turned slowly. “Heard what?”

  “Newman’s department store is hosting a modeling agency,” Jenna said.

  Manda’s eyes were absolutely twinkling. “They’re interviewing prospective models next Wednesday.”

  Livvy wandered over to join them. “Yeah, but it’s too bad.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Heather.

  “None of us has any extra time,” Livvy said glumly.

  Jenna nodded, too, as if reality were sinking in. “True.”

  “Wait a minute,” Heather said. “How’d you hear about this?”

  Manda pointed to the poster near the mirror, across the locker room. “Check it out for yourself.”

  “I will!” And she charged off, feeling an unexpected surge of energy.

  She scanned the ad with her eyes. It was very interesting. She read every word carefully. There were going to be agency directors flying in from New York City next week. They would look at portfolios—no problem, she thought—as well as narrow down the number of contestants. Whoever made the final cut was offered a modeling contract.

  “Is it runway modeling, commercial, or catalogs?” she asked the others.

  “Probably any of that, if you’re good enough,” Jenna said. “But it clearly says they train you, teach you everything you need to know. Even set up appointments for your work.”

  “But only if you have the look they want,” Manda added.

  The look . . .

  She wondered what that might be. If they meant the hollowed-out look, like the young models in her teen magazine at home, she thought she could pull that off by Wednesday. Less than a week away, she could maybe do it if she went without eating between now and then. Yes, that’s what she’d do.

  “I think I’ll show up and see what it’s all about,” she said.

  Livvy wrinkled up her nose. “You’re kidding, right?”

  She whirled around, bending and limbering up. “This is just what I’ve been waiting for.”

  Jenna and Manda exchanged glances. “How come you’ve never said anything to us about modeling before?” Jenna asked.

  “Maybe you weren’t listening.”

  “But we hang at Girls Only together, and never once have you said anything.” Jenna was unwavering.

  “Guess I don’t say everything I’m thinking.” Heather shrugged it off.

  Livvy frowned. “What about your summer ice event, Heather? How will you place there if you’re attending modeling classes or whatever?”

  “Not classes.” She spun around. “Didn’t you read the ad? They find you work.”

  Manda joined her in bending and warming up. “I’d rather keep focused on one thing at a time. Life gets less complicated that way.”

  “Yeah, one thing at a time,” Jenna echoed.

  Livvy suggested they go to the barre and get ready for class. “Modeling’s not for me, I can tell you that right now.”

  Heather was surprised—that comment coming from beautiful Livvy. “How will you know if you don’t try out?”

  Livvy shook her head. “I don’t have the look they want, I’m sure of it.”

  Jenna grinned. “But maybe Heather does.”

  Heather wondered what Jenna meant by that. “Which means?”

  “It’s just that you’re so tiny . . . the way they like models to be,” Jenna replied.

  Heather knew she probably wasn’t even close to being tall enough. Models that made it big were usually close to six feet tall. Never much shorter. There was no chance she’d grow that much in a few days.

  “Personally, I think it’s silly,” Manda said.

  Think what you want, Heather decided.

  “The four of us have athletic goals, in case you forgot,” Jenna joined in the chorus.

  “Who said anything about giving up goals?” she asked.

  Jenna shot her a weird look. “Well, what will Kevin say?”

  She should’ve known that was coming. Her girl friends always cared too much about what Kevin thought about everything. “My brother has nothing to say about it.”

  “But he’s the other half of your skating partnership,” Livvy said softly. “Doesn’t that count for something?”

  Of course it counted. She knew it did. But Heather was feeling just stubborn enough to stand firm in her quest. “Everyone, just back off.”

  “Fine,” said Manda, pouting.

  “It’s time for ballet, besides,” said Jenna, turning to go.

  Livvy gave Heather a puzzled look but kept quiet.

  When Natalie called for centerwork, Heather was glad. What did Manda, Jenna, and Livvy know about anything, anyway?

  Photo Perfect

  Chapter Twelve

  At home, Heather stayed in the shower much longer than usual, trying to rinse away the memory of her girl friends’ stinging remarks. So what if they weren’t interested in showing up for the modeling try-outs. Who cared what they thought?

  Lathering up for the second time, she remembered how outspoken Livvy had been. Livvy Hudson, typically sweet and considerate, had been downright direct. What had come over her? Was it that she was really interested but knew she couldn’t honestly take on one more event in her week? Was that it? Or was there more to it?

  Livvy and her father barely made ends meet sometimes. That was partly the reason for Livvy’s grandmother coming to live with them. “Out of necessity,” Livvy had said early in the year.

  Of course, Heather wouldn’t be rude and bring up such a thing. But she suspected that to be the reason behind Livvy’s disinterest. What else?

  Manda and Jenna had been equally hostile. Well, maybe hostile was stating it a little strongly. But they were defensive. Drying her hair, Heather wondered why.

  In her room, she chose a soft blue warm-up suit to wear to Jenna’s house. Girls Only Club meetings were some of the best times of each week. It was fun to wear something comfortable. Sometimes, they worked together to come up with new ballet routines.

  Today she was eager to see how many healthy recipes had been gathered since last Friday. Livvy’s idea of a cookbook was really a terrific one. They could sell lots of copies at church and around the neighborhood. Another good place to market them was the homeschooling network in town. Mom knew all sorts of folks devoted to home teaching. Families who might appreciate a cool cookbook like theirs.

  When she headed to the basement, Heather found Kevin playing with Tommy. “Where’s Mom?” she asked.

  “She ran an errand,” Kevin said, looking up. “Where are you headed?”

  “If it’s Friday, it must be Girls Only,” she taunted him.

  “Oh yeah.” There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You’re making a cookbook to raise money . . . for what?”

  She wouldn’t go there. It was a setup. She could see it on her brother’s face. “Never mind.”

  He shook his head. “You know, it’s kinda hard to overlook something so completely ridicul
ous,” he muttered. “You’ve quit eating, but you’re putting together a cookbook. How does that make any sense?”

  “Oh, what do you know?” she said under her breath.

  He stood tall just then, grabbing Tommy and swinging him around the room. Tommy let out a few screams of delight. “Faster . . . swing me faster,” their younger brother hollered.

  “Stop it!” Heather shouted. “Just stop it.”

  Kevin slowed Tommy down and stopped. He frowned. “Relax, Heather. Nobody’s out of control here.”

  No one except me, she thought.

  * * *

  Heather was the first to arrive at the Songs’ home. Jenna Song was lying on her bed, talking to her furry feline, Sasha, high in her attic bedroom. The room was the largest bedroom Heather had seen in her life. When Jenna and her family moved to Alpine Lake last fall, they’d knocked out a wall in order to make the upstairs room a combination bedroom and ballet practice area. The only thing the room lacked was a hardwood floor for full-blown dances.

  “Hey! You’re early,” Jenna said, spying her in the doorway. “Come in and relax.”

  Heather inched into the room, going to the corner near the window. “It’s nice and quiet up here.”

  “Isn’t it, though?” Jenna tickled her cat’s nose.

  Heather was silent, staring down at the rooftops of the other houses.

  “Something on your mind?” asked Jenna.

  “Oh, I don’t know.”

  Jenna chuckled. “Well, if you don’t . . . I sure don’t.”

  Heather thought about that. Should she tell her friend about her nagging desire to be skin and bones? What would Jenna think?

  “C’mon, Heather, talk to me.” Jenna came over and sat on the floor across from her.

  “You won’t laugh?”

  “Never.”

  She’d have to test the waters first. See if Jenna was the kind of friend she thought she was. “Bet you’ve never wanted to starve yourself skinny . . . have you?”

  Jenna frowned, pulling on one side of her short hair. “Hey, I’ve heard all about eating disorders, if that’s what you’re talking about.”

  “I didn’t say anything about disorders.” Now she was stalled. Maybe talking to Jen wasn’t such a good idea, after all.

  “So what are you saying?” Jenna twisted first one side of her dark hair, then the other. Her deep brown eyes were very serious, like she was struggling to understand.

  Heather pushed ahead, unsure of herself. “My brother thinks I’m fat.”

  Jenna laughed softly. “I doubt that.”

  “No, I’m serious. Kevin said I was too heavy one day during our practice.”

  Jenna sat with her knees under her chin. “Surely he was joking.”

  “I don’t think so.” She sighed. This was harder than she thought. “I want to be thin, Jen. Thinner than you are . . . thinner than I am now.”

  Frowning, Jenna looked at her. Really looked. “Hey, girl, you’re starting to scare me. Am I hearing you right?”

  Heather nodded. “I’ve never been more serious.”

  “So . . . what’s it you’re doing? Cutting out eating, is that it?”

  “And I’m working out a lot.”

  “Working out? Like how much?” Jenna’s eyes glistened.

  “Several extra hours a day.”

  Jenna scrunched up her mouth. “Does your coach know?”

  “Nobody knows but you.” At last, she’d told someone. What would Jenna’s reaction be?

  “Wanna know what I think?” Jenna said softly, reaching out her hand.

  “Sure.”

  “From everything I’ve heard and read—and, believe me, stuff like this gets around—you do not want to get caught up in the anorexic thing. I’ve seen girls my age get so high from the endorphins released during the starvation process, they actually get hooked on them. It’s addictive.” She scooted over next to Heather. “Please, don’t even think of losing weight that way. It’s dangerous.”

  She was frustrated at Jenna’s reaction. “I don’t get it. You think it’s wrong not to eat?”

  “Wrong and stupid, you pick. I’ve heard of some girls who’d rather cut off their arm than eat. They get sucked into the craving for the starvation high. Ten percent of them end up dead.”

  “Really? Dead?”

  “Hey, if you don’t eat, you die. Simple as that.”

  Heather hadn’t thought of it quite that way. “You’re sure about this?”

  “My gymnastic coach could tell you a thing or two. That is, if you don’t believe me.”

  She didn’t know what to think. Jenna seemed so convincing. Sure of herself. And Jen ought to know this stuff, coming from the athletic world she, too, lived and breathed daily.

  “Don’t say anything to Livvy and Manda, okay?” she said, beginning to tremble.

  “Well, I won’t promise forever. I’m a better friend than that. If you need to control something in a major way, I would never suggest the food-less route.”

  They were silent for a moment. Then Heather whispered, “I’m sorry, Jen. I want to be skinny. I really do.”

  “And right now you’re shaking. So how’s that going to help you enjoy the club meeting in a few minutes?” Jenna’s face was solemn. “When’s the last time you ate?”

  She wouldn’t tell. That was her business. Her secret. Getting up, she went to the barre. “Sorry, Jen. Guess I made a mistake.”

  Jenna followed her over, staring at her in the mirror. “You’re wrong about that. You did the right thing telling me. Because I refuse to let you get sucked into this dead end you’re headed for.”

  Heather was nearly too weak to protest. But her silence was her best defense. So she said no more.

  Photo Perfect

  Chapter Thirteen

  Both Livvy and Manda arrived late to Girls Only. Heather really wished they’d shown up on time. Maybe then she wouldn’t have blabbed her soul to Jenna. Now, someone else in the world knew what was going on in her head. And she wasn’t so sure her gymnast friend would keep quiet about it.

  “What recipes did you bring?” Livvy asked as the meeting had come to order.

  Heather had carefully printed out the recipes she thought fit best under the High-Energy Snacks heading. She showed the Bars of Iron recipe first.

  “Read off some of the ingredients,” Jenna said.

  She wasn’t so sure she wanted to think about food, let alone read about it. But she did, for the sake of the club. “There are raisins and molasses in it.”

  Manda wrinkled up her nose at the molasses.

  “Oats and ginger, too,” Heather said. Just the sound of the word raisins made her mouth water. She was so hungry.

  But no, she wouldn’t think about it. Not now. Not with Jenna, Livvy, and Manda sitting here, staring at her with bright eyes and full stomaches. Nope, she’d stick it out as long as possible. At least until the modeling agency came to their little town.

  * * *

  They were in the middle of voting on a title for their cookbook when Jenna’s mother knocked on the door. “Jenna, dear, can you watch your baby brother for me?”

  Jenna glanced over her shoulder at the rest of the girls. “You don’t mind, do you?” she asked the rest of the club members.

  “No problem,” Manda spoke up.

  “We’ll help you entertain him,” Heather offered.

  Livvy nodded her head, agreeing that they’d all pitch in and baby-sit. “It’ll be fun.”

  Jenna left the room and returned with little Jonathan in her arms. The baby’s olive skin tone matched Jenna’s, and his eyes widened as he looked around at all of them. Then his face lit up with a big smile when he spotted Heather. “Aw, he’s adorable,” she said, getting up and going over to Jenna. “May I hold him?”

  Jenna gave her the strangest look. “Are you strong enough?” Jen whispered.

  She knew what Jen was getting at. “Well, maybe I . . .”

  Jenna moved past her a
nd went to sit on the floor with her baby brother. “He’s crawling everywhere now,” she said, setting him down in the middle of the floor.

  Just then, the cat jumped down off the bed, and tiny Jonathan pointed at Sasha. “Oh,” he said, crawling toward the furry creature.

  “Watch this,” Jenna said.

  The girls were spellbound, watching Jonathan’s every move. His cute little hands sprang out, and he began crawling toward the golden-haired cat. But Sasha only allowed the baby to get within inches of her. Then she skittered under the bed skirt to a safe hiding place.

  Baby Jonathan just blinked his dark eyes, making sweet, high-pitched sounds.

  “Does he talk?” Manda asked.

  Jenna nodded. “He says ‘Mama,’ ‘bye-bye,’ ‘hi,’ and ‘Da-da.’ ”

  “What’s he call you?” asked Livvy.

  Jenna smiled. “My brother only points at me and grunts.”

  “That’s interesting,” Heather said, observing the small child. She wondered what would happen if a baby didn’t eat. How long before he or she would starve? Like the children on TV, in Third-World countries where every day babies die by the thousands.

  Jenna’s voice brought her out of her reverie. “Let’s do our best to compile the recipes today. Then when we’re ready, I’ll make the cover. Unless someone else wants to.”

  “Go for it,” Manda said.

  “Yeah, you’ll come up with a nice design,” Livvy said.

  “Use your computer program, maybe,” suggested Heather. But her thoughts were on getting home, lying down. She felt so terribly weak.

  * * *

  Heather was glad Mom was out doing some shopping when she arrived home. Quickly, she slipped off to her bedroom, eager for a nap. But her rest was short-lived. Joanne knocked on her bedroom door, waking Heather.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  Joanne poked her head inside. “Are you awake?”