by Betsy Haynes
The things I showed you last night!? Melanie hadn't said a word about that. She had gotten private modeling lessons at Taffy Sinclair's house, but she had tried to make us think that the evening was no big deal.
Every girl in the room, including me, shot poison-dart looks at Taffy and Melanie. You could have heard a pin drop. Taffy just sat there looking smug. I knew she was enjoying every minute of the attention she was getting from Laura, and she certainly didn't care that the rest of us were hating her. In fact, it was plain to see that she was enjoying that, too. Then I looked at Melanie. At first she seemed a little embarrassed and awestruck over being singled out by Laura MacLeod in public, but after a minute her expression changed, and it looked as if she was starting to enjoy the attention just as much as Taffy.
"The first order of business is taking roll," Laura announced. Even her voice was beautiful. "Instead of saying 'present' when your name is called, please stand up. That way we can begin to get acquainted since several schools are represented."
There was a lot of squirming and giggling as we all began looking self-consciously at each other. Taffy and Melanie and my other best friends and I were the only ones from Mark Twain Elementary.
"Amanda McDermott," Laura called out.
A tiny girl with blond hair who had been talking to Darcy before class jumped out of her chair. "Call me Mandy, please," she chirped, and sat back down.
"All right, Mandy," Laura said cordially. "Molly Colby, Jana Morgan, Kim Delehanty, Kristin Gish, Melanie Edwards, Heather Clark . . ."
One by one we bounced up and sat down again like rubber balls.
". . . Leah Stein, Katie Shannon, Beth Barry, Tammy Lucero, Darcy Holyfield, Susan Brodrick, Megan Hampson, and"—Laura paused and looked glowingly at Taffy—"Taffy Sinclair."
Taffy stood up slowly and gazed around the room as if she was making sure everyone saw her. Then she sat down again just as slowly, perching daintily on the edge of her chair. It was all I could do to keep from throwing up.
"And I'm Laura MacLeod, but please, call me Laura."
Her voice pulled me away from looking at Taffy Sinclair, and I settled back to gaze at Laura and try to imagine what it would be like to be that beautiful.
"Welcome to Runway to Beauty," she said. "For the next three weeks I'm going to share some secrets with you about becoming beautiful, poised, and confident. This course can make a big difference in your life. It can help you become the person you've always wanted to be."
Her words made me feel all tingly, as if a hundred daddy longlegs spiders were racing up my back. They also made me think about Randy Kirwan and how impressed with me he was going to be.
"What are some of the times when you feel self-conscious or embarrassed?" asked Laura.
Mandy's hand shot up. Laura nodded to her and she said, "Whenever I have to walk across a room and everybody is looking at me."
"Good, and what else?"
Susan, a chubby redhead, sprang to her feet. "Whenever I have to talk to somebody and . . . whoops! Just like now. I goof up."
Everybody laughed and started nodding. Laura was nodding, too. "We've all been through that. Anything else?"
I slowly raised my hand. "When I feel grungy and ugly, no matter how hard I've tried to look nice." I don't know why I said that out loud, except that I couldn't help remembering how awful I always felt next to Taffy Sinclair. I couldn't imagine how she stayed so perfect all the time, and if Laura MacLeod could teach me the secret, I wanted to learn it.
"That's just the sort of thing we're here to talk about," Laura said triumphantly. "Let's get started. We have lots of work to do."
She picked up a stack of booklets that said "Runway to Beauty" on the outside and passed out one to everybody. She told us to put our names on them and to bring them to class each time because they would be like textbooks for the school. Then she said she had some important things to tell us.
At first I thought it was going to be a long three hours. She started out talking about personality development, good manners in public and on the phone, and things like that. I couldn't help squirming in my chair through some parts. It's not that I was bored, because I wasn't. I guess I was just a little antsy. Anyway, finally she told us to stand up.
"Now we are going to work on visual poise," she said. "To be more specific, we're going to practice dealing with the situation Mandy brought up. We're going to learn how to walk across a room when everyone is watching."
I sprang to attention. Now we were getting to the good stuff, the stuff I could use to impress Randy.
Laura stepped to the center. "The first thing to remember is to let your eyes go first."
Giggles raced through the room as we looked at each other and shrugged. Probably everybody was imagining the same thing I was: a pair of eyes dropping out of a face and rolling across the floor.
Laura smiled. "By that I mean, look toward the spot you're going to walk to."
"Or the person," offered Megan.
"That's right. Or the person. Then hold your head up; keep your shoulders low; pull in your tummy; relax your arms and let them hang by your sides; take a deep breath and walk in small, even steps. Always step out on your right foot first and put your heel down and then your toe. That's all there is to it! You'll glide across the room and look wonderful doing it." Then she demonstrated, and she was right. She looked terrific.
Laura smiled around the room confidently, but my heart sank. How could I remember all of that? Look at where you're going. Hold up your head. Pull in your tummy. Take a deep breath, then relax your arms at your sides. Or was it the reverse? Relax your arms at your sides and take a deep breath? It was no use. I would never be able to do it. If I tried to remember all of that, I would probably fall flat on my face right in front of Randy.
"We're all going to practice in a moment," said Laura. "But first I'd like to ask Taffy and Melanie to demonstrate what I've just told you. Okay, Taffy. You go first."
Taffy stood up and then said as prissy as you please, "First I'm looking at the spot I'm walking toward. Now I'm holding my head up and keeping my shoulders low. I'm tucking in my tummy, letting my arms relax by my sides and taking a deep breath. Now I'm stepping out with my right foot and putting my heel down first and then my toe." She walked the whole length of the room looking absolutely perfect. Then, as if that weren't enough, she turned around and walked back to her chair.
"Very good, Taffy," said Laura. "Now, Melanie. Will you show us your walk, please?"
Melanie stood up and walked across the room. She didn't talk about what she was doing, and she wasn't quite as good as Taffy, but there was no doubt about it, she was good.
Next Laura called us up one by one. Nobody did it right. Darcy swung her arms. Heather forgot to look where she was going. Kim took long, bouncy steps. But I was the worst. I forgot to hold in my tummy. It stuck out so far and was so round that I probably looked like a beach ball with legs. I was so embarrassed I thought I'd die. Only Taffy and Melanie were perfect.
I slouched down in my seat and thought about how I had almost made up with Melanie before class began. Miss Perfect, the teacher's pet, I thought. I was glad I hadn't made up with her. Not only that, maybe I never would.
CHAPTER SIX
When modeling class was over, my three friends and I ducked out without waiting for Melanie and headed for my apartment, where we could talk things over and get a snack. Modeling school had made all of us absolutely famished. I put an entire package of cheese curls in a bowl and set it in the middle of the kitchen table and then started looking for sodas.
"Did you see how skinny Laura MacLeod is?" asked Beth, scooping up a handful of cheese curls with one hand and plopping them into her mouth one at a time with the other.
"I've read that models have to be that skinny," offered Christie. "Otherwise nobody will hire them. They work really hard to stay that way."
"I've read that, too," I added, handing everyone a can of soda.
"So do a
ctresses," said Beth. "I'd give anything to be that skinny. In fact, I'm starting on a diet right this minute. If Laura can do it, I can!" With that Beth pushed the bowl of cheese curls across the table and almost into Christie's lap.
"Maybe she's naturally thin," said Katie. "Some people are, you know."
"Not that thin," said Beth. "Besides, I've read articles about how models practically live on nothing but lettuce leaves and mineral water. They sacrifice for their profession. I think that's beautiful. I'm going to sacrifice for my profession, too. Don't try to talk me out of it."
"So when's the funeral?" Katie asked sarcastically.
"What funeral?" demanded Beth. "I'm not going to kill myself. I'm just going to lose a little weight."
"The funeral's for your brain, and it's already dead if you're going to eat only lettuce leaves and mineral water. Dieting like that is dangerous. Haven't you ever heard of anorexia or bulimia?"
"Don't be silly," scoffed Beth. "This is nothing like that."
"I could stand to lose a little weight myself," I said. I had to agree with Beth. I knew about anorexia and bulimia, and they had nothing to do with us. Katie was just trying to put a damper on things again.
"Why don't you put away the cheese curls and see if you have any apples or anything?" Christie suggested brightly "We could all stand to trim down a little."
"Terrific idea!" I cried. "We can weigh in on my bathroom scale and keep track of how much we lose as a project for The Fabulous Five." Then, looking at Katie, I added, "This isn't a matter of having eating disorders or whatever they're called. It's a matter of becoming the most gorgeous girls in Mark Twain Elementary. Isn't that what The Fabulous Five is all about?"
Katie shrugged. "I guess so," she conceded. "As long as we don't overdo it. There's another problem, though. Without Melanie, we aren't The Fabulous Five anymore."
"Maybe we'll just have to be The Fabulous Four," I said.
Just then there was a knock at the door. I rushed in to the living room and looked out through the peephole. "It's Melanie!" I gasped.
She has a lot of nerve showing up here after the show she put on at modeling school, I thought, and I could hear my friends murmuring among themselves in the kitchen as I opened the door.
"Hi," Melanie said in a quiet voice. "I thought you guys might be here. May I come in?"
"Sure," I said offhandedly.
"I know you're all really mad at me for spending so much time with Taffy Sinclair," she began. "And I'm sorry, too. Being best friends with you and part of The Fabulous Five is more important to me than anything . . . even being a model."
It was obvious from the look on Melanie's face that she was truly repentant. I wanted to run to her, throw my arms around her, and give her a big hug, but I hung back, waiting to see what my other friends would do. I didn't want everybody to think I was just a big pushover.
It was Katie who broke the ice. "Here. Have an apple." She picked an apple up from the counter where I had laid them to answer the door, and she tossed it to Melanie. "The Fabulous Five has a new project. Losing weight."
Melanie grabbed the apple out of the air, looking astonished for an instant, and then started laughing as we all rushed to tell her about weighing in and keeping track of our weight.
I felt a million times better now that we were friends with Melanie again. I couldn't help remembering all the fun we had had and all the secrets we'd shared. The Fabulous Five could never be the same without her. Besides, I thought with satisfaction, Melanie had been losing weight and getting prettier all through sixth grade. Our new project would be perfect for her modeling career.
I smiled to myself. Too bad for Taffy Sinclair.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It was the same old story on the playground Monday morning—Mona Vaughn trying to get Taffy's attention, and Taffy ignoring her. I felt sorry for Mona.
". . . and Laura said that I have the natural grace and poise to become a top fashion model," Taffy was bragging. She was talking to Alexis Duvall and Kim Baxter, but she was talking so loudly that everyone on the school ground could hear her.
"Gee, Taffy, I'd love to watch you practice sometime," said Mona. "I'll bet you're really good."
Taffy gave Mona a snooty look and turned back to Alexis and Kim, not even bothering to answer.
"Laura will probably use her influence to get me all sorts of modeling jobs just as soon as the class is over," she went on. "I can hardly wait. It's going to be fun, and with my TV experience, who knows how far I'll go. I'll probably make lots of money, even get rich!"
"Taffy is disgusting," complained Christie. We were standing far enough away from her that she couldn't hear what we were saying.
"And such a snob," I added. "Poor Mona. Taffy is treating her like dirt. She doesn't even care how badly she hurts Mona's feelings."
"That's typical of Taffy," mused Beth. "She only cares about herself."
"But Mona doesn't do much to help the situation either," said Katie. "I mean, she wouldn't be half so bad looking if she'd just do something with her hair."
We all looked at Mona again. Katie was right. Mona's hair was limp and straight, hanging almost to her shoulders, and her bangs completely hid her eyebrows.
"Did you ever see anything so stringy?" Katie went on. "And she slouches all the time instead of standing up straight."
"What she really needs is to go to modeling class," said Christie. We all laughed at that. I almost doubled over at the thought of homely Mona Vaughn standing next to gorgeous Laura MacLeod and learning to walk across a room with her head up, her shoulders down, her tummy tucked in, and all that other business. And then, when I thought about her coming down the runway during a fashion show at Tanninger's, I really broke up. Poor Mona, I thought. She was nice, but she really needed to do something with her looks. I felt a little guilty about laughing, even though I had laughed to myself.
At noon we gathered at our regular table in the cafeteria. I emptied my lunch bag onto the table and looked at the contents. One apple, one hard-boiled egg, and four carrot sticks. It was disgusting. Beth's and Melanie's lunches were practically the same, except that Beth had a nectarine instead of an apple, and Melanie had six carrot sticks instead of four. Christie had a carton of strawberry yogurt that was getting watery on top from being out of the refrigerator for so long. Only Katie had a decent lunch, a tuna sandwich on whole wheat bread.
Beth must have seen the look on my face and read my mind because she said, "Jana, think about it. Have you ever seen a model who wasn't thin? And remember how great they look in their clothes."
"Well, at least nobody's having lettuce leaves and mineral water," Katie said as she took a bite of her tuna sandwich. We all watched her chew it and then swallow as if we were starving street urchins with our noses pressed against a candy store window. "And you don't have to live on that stuff," she said, pointing to our lunches. "If you just stick to nutritional things, you'll be thin naturally."
Leave it to Katie to rub it in, I thought. Then I took a noisy bite of my apple to show my disgust. I was shaking salt onto my hard-boiled egg a couple of minutes later when I heard someone giggle. I knew that giggle. I would recognize it anywhere, even in the dark.
"What's so funny?" I mumbled to Taffy Sinclair, who was standing by our table with a smirk on her face.
"You are," she said. "Just look at those delicious lunches. I suppose you are all on diets to get thin like Laura." She threw back her head and laughed as if it were the funniest idea she had heard in a long time. "Well, I don't have to do that because I know all the tricks that models use to get thin and stay that way. See," she said, leaning forward so that we could all see what was on her hot-lunch tray. She had a hot dog, french fries, and chocolate cake! The chocolate cake looked so delicious I thought I'd die.
Katie, Beth, Christie, and I all gave her poison-dart looks, but I couldn't help noticing that Melanie looked interested. "Tricks?" she whispered after Taffy left our table. "What kind of tricks?
"
"Forget it," I said, but even though Melanie went back to her own lunch, I had the feeling that she wasn't going to forget it. It hadn't been very long ago that she was terribly overweight, and even though she was a lot thinner now, she could still stand to take off a few pounds.
"I don't believe there are any tricks," grumbled Katie. "She was just making that up for our benefit."
"I agree," I said.
Beth was quiet for a minute. Then she said, "Taffy must know some tricks. You know how concerned she is about her looks. You don't seriously think she'd eat a hot dog, french fries, and chocolate cake, and take a chance on being too fat to become a model, do you?"
"Maybe she just bought it to wave under our noses and now she's going to dump it into the trash," I offered. Nobody believed that any more than I did. Besides, we could see her sitting three tables away taking a big bite of her hot dog.
"She must know some tricks," insisted Melanie in a voice filled with admiration.
As the week went by, I started to agree with Melanie. On Tuesday, Taffy got Italian spaghetti and apple crisp for hot lunch and totally cleaned her plate. On Wednesday, she had meat loaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, and chocolate pudding. And on Thursday, she had pizza! By then I was bonkers. I would have gladly given up apples, hard-boiled eggs, and carrot sticks forever.
"Maybe I should talk to her and see if I can find out about the tricks," Melanie offered as soon as Taffy put her dirty dishes on the tray return and left the cafeteria.
"Who needs them, anyway?" blurted Beth.
"Yeah," I said. "Just because I'm turning into a rabbit from eating all those carrots." With that I began twitching my nose and making funny ears with my hands until I had my friends in stitches.
Melanie jumped to her feet and angrily put her hands on her hips. Her face was a bright shade of red. "Well, it may not be important to you, but it certainly is to me! I really do want to be a model. Taffy says I'm talented and pretty, and that I can get lots of modeling jobs. But how can I get them if I'm fat?"