Fantasy Summer

by Susan Beth Pfeffer

  She gave up trying to reach him at eleven, by which time she was so angry at him for not being home, she’d forgotten all about being bored. He probably had a date with some beautiful New York City girl. He’d probably picked the fight with her just so he could break it off, so he could date this beautiful New York City girl. He didn’t have plans with his grandparents. He probably didn’t even have grandparents. He probably had a date scheduled with a different beautiful New York City girl for every day of the week.

  She’d show him, Robin decided as she tossed and turned her way to sleep. She’d go back to Ohio and forget all about him. She’d date all the boys in Elmsford. No, she’d date all the boys in Ohio. If she had to, she’d date all the boys in the entire Midwest.

  And Tim wouldn’t be able to forget her, because she’d be picked to be on the cover of Image. Wherever he’d go her face would follow him. He’d be haunted, and she’d be having the time of her life.

  Robin shut her eyes even tighter. She didn’t need Tim. She didn’t need anybody. She was Robin Louise Schyler and she could make it on her own.

  14

  Robin knew she should have been more excited about being on television for the first time, but nothing was much fun since her quarrel with Tim. The other girls seemed to be excited enough. Annie had gotten her hair restyled, since she hadn’t bothered maintaining it after the makeover. Ashley had spent a half-hour putting together a decent outfit for Torey, and Torey hadn’t even objected this time, since her family would be able to watch her on TV when the show was aired. But none of them had been able to talk Robin into having a good time.”

  “I know it’s only cable,” Annie said. “But it’s national cable. We get this station in our system.”

  “We get it in ours too,” Robin said. It was a station devoted to shows for kids and teenagers. Robin had watched it on occasion herself.

  “So your parents will be able to watch you,” Annie said. “As well as my parents. And all your friends will see you. You’ll be a star.”

  “Besides, everybody will get to see Torey and me,” Ashley pointed out. “Just think how much time that will save you when people ask what we were like.”

  “My family will see you too,” Torey said. “And I want them to see you smiling and happy. You’re prettier that way.”

  “Face it, Robin,” Ashley said. “You’re extremely boring when you’re unhappy.”

  “I suppose you’re fascinating when you’re unhappy,” Robin said, wishing they would all shut up.

  “I certainly am,” Ashley replied. “I’m given to big dramatic gestures. You just get sulky.”

  “Nobody’s telling you not to make up with Tim,” Annie said. “The two of you had your fight almost a week ago. That’s just the right amount of time to call him and make up.”

  “I tried calling him,” Robin said. “What do you think I was doing Saturday night? He never answered the phone, so why should I be the one to keep trying? Let him call me.”

  Annie shrugged her shoulders. “If you feel that way, fine,” she said. “But stop moping around. Be so gorgeous on TV that every boy in America will want you. Except for Harvey.”

  “Harvey isn’t exactly my type,” Robin told her. “I prefer natural eyebrows.”

  “He’s growing them back,” Annie said defensively. “You know, Ashley, you’re right. Robin has gotten sulky and obnoxious.”

  “She never said ‘obnoxious,’” Robin said.

  “I would have eventually,” Ashley said.

  The phone rang in Robin and Ashley’s room. Ashley answered. “It’s Jean,” she told the other girls. “Time for us to go.”

  The girls took the elevator downstairs in relative silence, then met Jean in the lobby. They piled into a cab and went to Eleventh Avenue, where the studio was located. Robin scolded herself the entire trip over. The girls were right. She had been grouchy and obnoxious all week long. She didn’t have that much time left in New York, and all she was doing was ruining it for herself, if not for everybody else. Either she and Tim would make up, or they wouldn’t. Either way, she’d live.

  “Welcome, girls,” Carla Everest, the show’s producer, said as they walked into the studio. “Hi Jean. I’m glad you could all make it.”

  “Thanks for having us,” Jean said. “Do we have time for a quick tour?”

  “Absolutely,” Carla replied. “And I want you to meet Don Myers. He’s the star of the show. Don, come on over here.”

  A handsome man walked over. He was dressed informally in shirt and slacks, and he’d loosened his tie. “Hi, girls,” he said. “I’m looking forward to talking with all of you.”

  “Hello,” the girls said. Robin wondered if the others felt as shy as she did.

  “It’ll be a real help if I know which one of you is which,” Don said. “Which one of you is Ashley Boone?”

  Ashley raised her hand.

  Don went through the same process with all of the other girls. He stared at each one as though to commit them to memory. Then he flashed them a big smile, assured them they’d all have a wonderful time on the show, and wandered away to put on his makeup and change into his official TV clothes.

  Carla showed them the green room, which was where the girls would wait until they were introduced on the show, and the studio where the show would be shot. There were bleachers for the audience that looked like they would hold about eighty people. Robin knew from seeing the show in the past that the audience would be filled with teenagers, who would have a chance to ask questions later in the day. Carla showed the girls where they would be sitting; the stage was set up to resemble a living room, and two of the girls would be on one side of Don, and two on the other. Then the girls were whisked off to the makeup room, where each one of them took her turn. This time Torey didn’t complain about feeling painted, even though the makeup that was put on her was even heavier than the stuff used in the makeovers.

  They didn’t have to wait long in the green room, but it seemed endless to Robin. She could hear the audience pile onto the bleacher benches, and she wished she were one of them. Her stomach hurt, and she entertained herself by thinking of the thousand different ways she could make a fool of herself on television.

  “Just remember, girls, you’re representing Image,” Jean said, and smiled briskly at them. Robin felt the urge to punch her teeth out.

  “You mean we can’t spit or curse or take our clothes off?” Ashley asked. Annie tittered.

  “That’s exactly what I mean,” Jean said, continuing to smile. “Make us proud of you, Ashley.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Ashley drawled.

  “Time, girls,” Carla said, sticking her head in. “Torey, why don’t you go first, and then you, Robin, and now Ashley and Annie.”

  The girls followed her instructions and left the green room, walking directly onto the stage. Eighty strange teenagers applauded their entrance.

  The lights were very bright, and Robin tried hard not to blink or squint. She sat down between Torey and Don, and turned to face Don. She also checked to see where the cameras were located. The one with the red light on was the one in use, she knew, from the preshow coaching Jean had given them the day before. They were to make eye contact naturally, with whomever they were talking to, but it never hurt to be aware which of the two cameras was in use.

  Don introduced each of the girls to the audience, giving their names, where they were from, and what their particular internship was. He then turned to Annie and asked her how the summer was going.

  Annie answered calmly and naturally. Under Don’s questioning she described what her job entailed.

  “And how about you, Robin?” Don asked. “How did you get the internship with Image?”

  Robin was so startled that he’d picked on her to ask, that she didn’t have a chance to get tongue-tied. “I sent in some photographs I’d taken,” she told him. “And I filled out a thousand forms and wrote an essay.”

  “But it was your photographs that finally conv
inced them that you should be the photography intern,” Don said.

  Robin thought for a moment about her demographics. “It wasn’t just that,” she said. “There are a lot of awfully talented photographers out there, and it’s possible some of the other girls sent in pictures that were better than mine. It was a combination of things.”

  “Like what?” Don persisted.

  “I had to write an essay on what I hoped to gain from the internship,” Robin said, choosing her words carefully. “Obviously, if I thought I was the world’s most gifted photographer, I wouldn’t be open to learning from the professionals I’d be working with. And I had to get letters of recommendation from people to prove I was capable of hard work. Believe me, they work you hard at Image. And I had to send them a picture of myself. I don’t think they really cared if I was Miss America or not, but they didn’t want anybody with two heads.”

  “How do you feel about that, Ashley?” Don asked, turning his attention away from Robin. “Do you feel your looks had something to do with your getting the internship?”

  “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we’re all very pretty,” Ashley replied. “One of us is going to be on the cover, after all. You never see ugly girls on the cover of Image.”

  “That’s an interesting point,” Don said. “Torey, do you think Image is too appearance-oriented? Do you feel you’re being judged as much on your looks as your talent?”

  “I’ve always been judged on my looks,” Torey said. “People have always been just a little nicer to me because they think I’m pretty. I don’t know why Image should be different.”

  “I think Image is too appearance-conscious,” Annie said. “I was told to go on a diet practically the moment I arrived in New York. And I was very carefully watched to make sure I stayed on it and lost the amount of weight they wanted.”

  “But it’s a fashion magazine,” Ashley said. “Of course they wanted pretty girls. Of course they wanted us to be as pretty as we could be. Half the magazine is devoted to fashion and appearance. They don’t care what the I.Q. of their models is, just as long as they photograph well.”

  “I agree with Annie,” Robin said. “I buy Image, and while I enjoy the fashion spreads, I read the magazine for the articles and fiction. And I think most of my friends read it for the same reasons.”

  “I read it for the fashion,” Ashley said. “Come on, now, Robin. How many of those articles really pertain to your own life? How to get a boy to ask you out? What to do if your parents are splitting up? How to handle your first job interview? Is going steady really for you? Be serious.”

  “Do you find the articles pertain to your life, Torey?” Don asked, clearly enjoying the discussion going on.

  “Some more than others,” Torey replied. “Which I assume would be true of any magazine.”

  “All right,” Don said. “You in the audience. Let’s have a show of hands. How many of you read Image on a regular basis?”

  About half the kids raised their hands.

  “And how many of you read it for the fashion spreads?” Don continued.

  Roughly half of the hands remained up.

  “And articles?”

  The other half came up.

  “So it seems to be a fifty-fifty split,” Don said. “Which is probably just the way the Image editorial staff wants it. Annie, knowing that, if you were editor-in-chief of Image, what changes would you make?”

  “I’d still cut the fashion section in half,” Annie said. “And I’d certainly change their approach on food.”

  “I agree,” Robin said. “I mean, their food articles are really cute, but they’re useless. We just did a spread on zucchini cupcakes. I’m sure they’re delicious, but I’m not sure anyone’s ever going to make them. My mother and father both work, and a lot of the time I’m in charge of making supper. There are lots of teenagers in that position, and we don’t need recipes for zucchini cupcakes. We need main-course recipes that are easy to make.”

  There was an actual smattering of applause.

  “We could use articles on grocery shopping, too,” Torey said. “Kids nowadays have a lot of responsibilities around the house. And they have part-time jobs too. They could use articles on how to handle jobs, and taxes, and savings.”

  “I’m sure these are all things Image will start thinking about,” Don said. “Do you girls feel you’ve had a significant input at the magazine? Do the editors listen to your opinions?” -

  “I know they listen to me,” Ashley said. “Of course, all I do is lowly fashion, which nobody here seems to think is worth anything, but ideas I’ve suggested have been used.”

  “Oh, Ashley,” Torey said. “Nobody says the fashion articles aren’t important.”

  “Sometimes I think you all feel that way,” Ashley said.

  “I don’t,” Robin said. “I love looking at the pictures of the models and seeing what clothes are fashionable. I’ve gotten ideas for outfits from Image for years now. I just wouldn’t buy it for the clothes alone.”

  “Speaking of Image’s editorial staff, we have one of them here,” Don said. “Jean Kingman, who is in charge of the summer internship program, came with the girls today. She’s been waiting offstage to make an important announcement.”

  Robin shot Annie a look. Annie shrugged her shoulders almost imperceptibly.

  Jean walked out, carrying an artist’s portfolio. The audience applauded her, while Ashley and Annie moved over to make room for her.

  “Jean, have you been listening to all the ideas the girls have been suggesting?” Don asked her.

  “I certainly have,” Jean said. “And I want to make it very clear that the interns do have an influence on our future editorial policies. That’s a major reason why we have the internships every year. Image pays a lot of attention to the letters its readers send in, but we find it very helpful to have our readership represented in person for eight weeks. For example, Robin and Torey’s comments about the food articles just now were very well taken. I intend to discuss them at our next major editorial meeting.”

  “That’s great, Jean,” Don said. “Now, I know you have a surprise for us. Do you care to tell us what is in that portfolio you’re carrying?”

  “I’d be delighted, Don,” Jean said. “As Ashley mentioned earlier, one of these four girls is going to be on the cover of Image in six months. We have a special issue devoted each year to our interns, and one of the four girls is always picked to be the cover girl for that issue.”

  “That must be a great honor,” Don declared.

  “It certainly is,” Jean said. “We wait until the girls have completed their makeovers and are photographed professionally before the final decision is made. Looks are not the only criterion used to make our choice. We feel the intern that best represents what Image stands for is the one who should be on the cover.”

  “It must be a very difficult choice,” Don said.

  “This year it was unusually so,” Jean said. “Each of our interns is so special this year, we considered having all four of them on the cover. But finally we decided to stick with tradition and pick one intern to represent them all.”

  “And you’re here today to tell us which lucky girl that will be,” Don said.

  “I am,” Jean said with her standard smile. She began unzipping her portfolio. “I’ve brought with me the photograph we’ll be using. Naturally, the layout of the cover will be slightly different, but I thought you might like to see what the picture on the cover will be.”

  “Of course we’re interested,” Don said. “I bet the four girls on this stage are very interested indeed.”

  “I do want everyone to understand that making this choice was very hard,” Jean said. “Our meeting lasted several hours, with each of the girls being proposed by several different editors as being the perfect choice. But finally, consensus was reached.”

  Let it be me, Robin prayed. Let her take out my picture.

  “And this is the photograph that finally
decided us,” Jean announced, removing the photograph and displaying it to the audience.

  For a moment Robin tried twisting to see what the picture was. But then she noticed Annie was looking at the monitor, so she looked there as well.

  It was Torey. It was a Torey so breathtakingly beautiful Robin almost didn’t recognize her. But still, it was Torey.

  “Well, Torey Jones,” Don said. “How do you feel about finding out you’re going to be an Image cover girl?”

  “That’s really me?” Torey asked. “I look that good?”

  Don laughed. “How do all of you in the audience feel about the choice?” he asked. “I don’t want this to turn into a beauty contest, but I would appreciate some honest opinions. Yes … you, young man in the fourth row. You have an opinion?”

  “I can’t really be objective,” a very familiar boy’s voice said. “They all seem to be very fine girls. But I think they should have picked someone who looks a little less like a fashion model. Someone like Robin.”

  “Tim?” Robin squeaked.

  “You know this boy?” Don asked her.

  “I guess I do,” Robin said, her heart singing. “We’ve been dating all summer.”

  “You, Tim,” Don said. “What’s it been like, dating an Image intern?”

  “It’s been wonderful,” Tim said. “But I guess it depends on which intern you date.”

  The audience laughed. Robin managed to laugh along with them.

  The next ten minutes of the show were agony for Robin. But eventually the show was over and the girls were thanked and sent to the makeup room to have their faces cold-creamed back to normal.

  Tim met them outside. He walked right over to Robin and hugged her. Robin loved the feeling of being in his arms.

  “How did you know I would be here?” Robin asked.

  “Ned told me,” Tim said. “He knew they’d be announcing the cover girl, and I figured I wanted to be here to celebrate or commiserate, whichever was appropriate.”

  “I tried calling you all Saturday night,” Robin said.

  “My grandparents came in a day early,” Tim told her. “We went out to dinner and then the theater. And then I would have called you except I figured you’d want to kill me and you deserved to, and I wanted to see you in person, but I got shy all of a sudden. I don’t know. Do you forgive me?”