by Annie Bryant
“Katani!” Maeve called, rushing out of the elevator. She hugged her friend in a fever of relief.
“Maeve! We were on our way out to look for you!” Katani cried. Suddenly Katani stopped hugging Maeve and looked at her accusingly. “Where have you been? What were you thinking, going off by yourself like that?”
Maeve gulped. “What do you mean? You left me behind in the subway.” Now she was almost tearful, too. “You were in such a rush you never even noticed I was gone.”
For a minute both girls just stood there, eyes welling with tears. Katani felt awful. Maeve was right. She had been so furious all morning that she had forgotten the most obvious thing: friends are the number-one priority. Being worried about Maeve was ten times worse than being worried about arriving at the fashion show late. And now that Maeve was here, she realized that she was happy—even happier than when she found out about this trip in the first place. “I’m sorry, Maeve.”
Maeve hugged her. “No, it’s okay. I’m just glad I found this place!”
When Michelle spotted the British couple standing quietly behind the girls, her eyes widened. “Oh, thank goodness…Simon! You made it!”
Katani turned and gasped. She began to stare too. In fact, everyone in the hallway was staring. Some people were even pointing and whispering, but smiling the whole time.
Maeve turned to look at the man Michelle had called Simon, and her eyes widened. Oh…my…gosh!
Simon Blackstone! How could she not have known him? British heartthrob, star of the great new action movie The Swashbuckler, actor, rocker, and out-of-this-world hip hop dancer—and she, who knew his face from movies and magazines, hadn’t even realized it!
I was rescued by Simon Blackstone, Maeve thought. Is that too amazingly cool or what? This is the BEST day of my life!
Michelle had already taken charge of the situation. She thanked the policemen for coming and apologized for having wasted their time.
“We’re just glad everything turned out all right,” they said very graciously. Maeve blushed as she thanked her rescuers and then began apologizing in over-the-top Maeve style for not recognizing them sooner. “I mean,” she gushed to Simon, “you are one of my all-time favorite actors, if not my favorite. I like you even better than…You know, I am going to be an actress too someday…maybe you could…” Maeve noticed that Katani was frantically motioning for Maeve to “chill.”
“Oh.” She looked up at Simon, the biggest heartthrob on the planet. “I…I’m sorry…you must want to…” Simon flashed Maeve his famous, sparkling, devilish smile, the smile that made millions of girls all over the world scream “SIMON ROCKS!” Speechless, Maeve just bobbed her head at his gleaming white teeth. And then the unimaginable happened. Simon Blackstone, favorite movie star of Maeve Kaplan-Taylor, reached over and lifted Maeve’s hand to his lips, brushed it lightly with a kiss and in his impossibly cool British accent said “Anytime, Luv.”
Maeve grabbed Katani’s hand and watched as Michelle led Simon and Bea to the magazine’s conference room, where there was a brunch specially prepared just for them. Michelle turned to Katani and Maeve, noticing their overwhelmed expressions. “Why don’t you two freshen up?” she suggested. “I’ll meet you right back in this conference room when you’re done.”
“You know that I can never wash this hand…I mean, NEVER wash this hand ever again in my whole entire life. Someone should take a picture of this hand and put it in the Fan Hall of Fame,” Maeve said as she walked to the ladies’ room with Katani.
“Okay. Maeve, explain this to me,” Katani said the minute the girls were alone in the ladies’ room. She was bursting with curiosity. “So you get totally lost in Times Square, in the middle of New York City. Then you come strolling in here with—who? Oh, right. Simon Blackstone! Maeve Kaplan-Taylor, how did you manage this? Speak now or I will be forced to make you speak,” Katani said, laughing. “It just isn’t possible that someone from Abigail Adams Junior High gets her hand kissed by Simon Blackstone. How on earth did you do it?”
“Oh, we didn’t just come up in the same elevator,” Maeve said, giggling a little in sheer relief. “He found me in Times Square—and brought me over here because he was worried about me.”
“No!” Katani looked stunned. “That’s incredible! He found you and rescued you?”
“Well—I guess he and Bea both did,” Maeve said. She felt both giddy and calm, now that she was finally with Katani again. “He, of course, just sort of swept me up and carried me away.” When she saw the doubtful look on Katani’s face, she amended, “Well, not exactly. But I couldn’t find the building and he and Bea said they were coming here anyway, so they asked me if I wanted to come along. And want to hear the craziest part? I was so panicked all morning it didn’t occur to me who he was. Me! Can you imagine?! I didn’t even really care who he was, as long as I found you.” She looked over at Katani and gave her a warm smile.
“I was so scared when I couldn’t find you!” Katani said. “I didn’t go straight to Michelle’s office. As soon as I got out of the subway and realized that you were missing, I waited and waited, and then I walked around in circles, thinking I’d find you behind me. Then after a while I thought maybe you had found your way here, so I rushed over. I told Michelle as soon as I saw her, and she called the police. When you got here we were just on our way out to look for you.” She shook her head. “It was horrible!” And then the normally reserved Katani threw her arms around Maeve and gave her an unexpected Kgirl super hug.
“It’s over now,” Maeve said, hugging her friend and thinking back on how people had stared at her in the lobby and on the street. She turned to Katani and giggled. “You know, when people stared at us on the way here, I kept thinking it was because my outfit was all wrong. But Bea said she loved what I was wearing and she thought my bag was great! Gosh! I had absolutely no idea that everyone was staring at him.” She shook her head and her cheeks turned as pink as her outfit. She’d been so sure there was something wrong with her that it never occurred to her that there was another, simpler explanation for why New Yorkers would stop and stare!
Katani stared at her now, too. “What?” Maeve said.
Katani shrugged and smiled. “Nothing,” she said finally. “You do look cute. There’s just one thing…” She handed Maeve a comb. “Here. Just a few strokes and you’ll be all set!”
Maeve thanked her and began to rearrange her long, red tresses while Katani watched her in silence and a little wonder. She was just beginning to see what Bea, whom Michelle said was Simon’s manager (sigh!), was talking about. That morning Katani had looked at Maeve like she didn’t have a clue about what to wear in New York City. When she decided to bring that retro bag, Katani began to get Mary Poppins flashbacks. But now she saw that Maeve’s unique sense of style was pretty cool. She was drenched in pink, and what person—according to Ms. Razzberry Pink, proprietor of Maeve’s favorite store, Think Pink—didn’t feel good when they were covered in pink? Maybe Bea really did admire Maeve’s daring ensemble.
Katani had always thought that her sense of style was the best because she followed what was going on in the world of fashion. But now she saw that her fashion sense was simply not the only way. Maybe she needed to expand her appreciation of fashion. Even if something wasn’t really her taste, it didn’t mean it wasn’t perfect for someone else. How would she ever make it to the top of the fashion world if there were so many more things to learn? Was it always going to be like this? she wondered. Wouldn’t she ever get to a point in life when she was finished learning?
“Girls!” Michelle rushed into the ladies’ room just as Maeve combed her last strands of hair into place. “You won’t believe who’s here!”
Maeve put her hands on her hips, “Michelle, I get it! Simon Blackstone.”
Michelle shook her head. “No! I mean, besides him!”
“Who?” Katani asked.
“A reporter from the local New York cable station, New York 1! They broadcast al
l over the five boroughs!”
Surprised, Katani looked at her cousin. Michelle was a member of the press herself. She dealt with the media every day. Why was this such a big deal?
Michelle didn’t give her time to guess. “Wait! You haven’t heard the best part! They found out there are two girls here from Boston who are interested in fashion careers, and they’d like to interview you both right now!”
“Wow!” Maeve shrieked, her blue eyes shining. “I’m going to be on camera?!”
“Exactly!” said Michelle.
“That’s awesome! Hold on, I’m going to call Charlotte and tell her to turn on the TV!”
Katani stared at her. “They won’t be able to see it, silly. It’s only going to be on local news. And besides, they’re still on the field trip.”
“Ohh…” Maeve was clearly disappointed.
“Come on,” Michelle said. “It’ll be fun. They’re looking to do the interviews right now, before we get started with the show. So you’d better hustle!”
Maeve was bubbling over with excitement as Michelle led them down the hall. Katani, however, was quiet. Since when had Maeve been interested in a career in fashion?
CHAPTER
15
Walk the Walk, Talk the Talk
When they stepped out of the ladies’ room, they were greeted by a small, flashily dressed young woman with short, platinum hair and a lightweight camcorder balanced on her shoulder. “Hi there, I’m Karen Schorr from New York 1, it’s a pleasure to meet you. You two are interested in future careers in fashion? I love that!” she chattered.
Before Maeve or Katani could even reply, the reporter continued, “All day long I’ve been looking for an angle that is a little more original than the typical ‘girl goes to NYC and makes it big as a model’ thing. I mean, BORING, right? Then I’m talking to Michelle and she told me about you two and why you were here and I said ‘Shut up!’ and she said ‘No, I can’t, because it’s true’ and I thought that you would be the perfect interviews, do you know why?”
Katani and Maeve looked as each other and Katani asked nervously, “Um, why?”
“Because our viewers just love stories about proactive young women. Girls who want to get a head start on their careers and who dream big, you know? This is perfect! It’ll be right up their alley!”
Both girls stood there not knowing what to do with Karen’s supercharged professional energy and nonstop chatter. Katani looked like she had been plowed over with a steamroller. But Maeve, captivated, whispered under her breath, “Someday I want to be just like her…”
Michelle squeezed both girls’ shoulders reassuringly. “Excuse me,” she said tactfully, “but I have to go tie up a few loose ends before the show. You girls will be just fine.” She winked at Katani and Maeve and asked Karen, “Can I help you find a place to set up backstage?”
“That would be great,” said Karen. She and the girls followed Michelle to the backstage area, and Michelle led them to an empty corner out of the way of the fashion show hubbub.
“How does this work?” Michelle asked. “I figured it would be quieter than anywhere else.”
“Yes. This looks great,” Karen said cheerily.
“And you’ll want the girls made up for the camera, right?” Michelle turned to Katani and Maeve. “Come with me. I’ll get Andre to squeeze you in while Karen’s setting up.”
“Thanks, Michelle!” Karen called. As they walked away, she pulled a tripod out of her backpack and began to set up the camcorder on it.
“Andre,” Michelle said to a man standing behind a makeup chair. He quickly brushed shaggy strands of bleached blond hair out of his eyes and looked up. “I need you to make these two up ASAP. Nothing drastic—just a little powder, blush, and lipstick, all right? They’re doing a TV interview. And remember, dearest, they’re only twelve.”
“Michelle!” Katani was mortified.
Andre laughed and kissed Michelle on the cheek. “Only for you, darling,” he said, flicking back his hair and nodding for Katani to get into the chair. “Honestly, Michelle, if I hear one more word from one of these stuck-up models about me designing personalized eyeshadow to match the exact shade of their eyes, I will freak out. I’m telling you! This one is missing a shoe, that one has bags under her eyes, blah, blah, blah—I’ve never seen such unprofessionalism in all my life!” He signed and inspected Katani. “Look at this one! Great skin tone. Hmm. Piece of cake!”
“Excellent. Okay, see you soon, girls.” And with that, Michelle was off to work. Andre began by wiping Katani’s face with a clean sponge and then proceeded to deftly apply foundation to her cheeks, blending it in with his fingers. It seemed like he needed only a few strokes to get the effect he wanted. He dabbed a little more onto her forehead, dotted some on her chin and throat, and then stood back, pleased with his work. Another minute and he had matched a perfect pink hue to Katani’s natural cinnamon skin tone and lightly dusted her face with blush.
Katani kept stealing glimpses of herself in the mirror, astounded at what she saw. It wasn’t that she looked totally different from how she normally looked. She had the same eyes, nose, hair, and everything. She just looked older somehow, more graceful, and composed. All it took was a few flicks of Andre’s wrist—and bam!
Maeve watched, awestruck, as Andre traced the outline of Katani’s lips with a subtle lip liner, and then used a shimmery gloss to make it really zing. He handed her a tissue and made a smacking noise with his own lips to demonstrate what she was supposed to do. “Blot it off and it looks just right, yes?” he instructed. “Much better for young ladies. Too much lipstick or dark eyeliner—blugh!”
Katani stared at herself in the mirror. She couldn’t believe the transformation. She felt like a princess. At this moment, she could be anyone from a famous fashion designer to a no-nonsense businesswoman! And she liked the way she felt!
From a corner of the room they heard, “Will someone please find my shoes before I go completely mad?” From another corner one of the girls wailed, “Geri? Where is Geri!? These straps are too tight!”
“This dress…,” growled another girl, “looks absolutely hideous on me!”
“All right, your turn, missy,” Andre said to Maeve, ignoring the shouts and shrieks around him. Katani slid off the chair and Maeve hopped up obediently. “Love, love, love the red hair,” Andre enthused as he wiped her face clean and worked in a cream-colored foundation. He picked a soft bubblegum-pink powder for her cheeks and glossed her lips with subtle berry.
Andre pointed to the mirror in front of Maeve. “Eh—voilà!” he said with an exaggerated bow. “You like?”
Why was it that when Maeve tried to do her own makeup, it never looked this good? With her red locks cascading around her face, which had been kissed ever-so-slightly with glitter, Maeve thought she looked magical. “Oh, yes!” Maeve said. “I love it! You are so nice to do this.”
“Not a problem,” Andre answered with a flourish. “Makeup is important in the fashion world, and I think of myself as a painter…a painter of faces. It’s what I do and I love my job…unless I have to deal with spoiled divas. Rude, rude, rude!”
“Thank you again, Andre,” Katani said more formally. She didn’t want Andre to think she was an ungrateful diva. Although with all the chaos surrounding the show, Katani could understand how some models might get carried away. Katani was so overwhelmed with everything that was happening she felt like she might float away. First, she had her makeup done by a real New York City makeup artist, and now here she was about to have a news interview about her dream of a career in fashion—what more could this day have in store?
Karen reappeared, still a tornado of energy. “Done? Yes? Fabulous! You girls look amazing. Okay, let’s get this show on the road!”
Karen had already set up her camera on the tripod and quickly herded the girls in front of it. She peered through the lens to check the picture. “Just making sure all three of us fit in the frame. There, that’s perfect.”
She turned on the light, adjusted the angle, and walked in front of the camera with her microphone. The nervous, over-excited energy suddenly disappeared. In a second Karen became low-voiced, level-headed, and more like, in Katani’s opinion, a professional reporter. “So you are Katani Summers and you are Maeve Kaplan-Taylor, right? Just checking. This is going to be a short segment, but I’ll make sure you get copies, all right? It’ll be a nice souvenir to take home. Remember, look at me, not the camera, okay? Good. All right, here’s the countdown, girls, ready? Three, two, one…”
Maeve and Katani squeezed hands for good luck as Karen launched into her spiel. “Hello, I’m Karen Schorr from New York 1, and here we are at the Teen Beat Magazine Fashion Show. There has been a lot of excitement about this show, as it is the first fashion show sponsored by Teen Beat—the magazine of the moment for teen girls across the globe. We will get an exclusive look at debut lines from hot new designers! Plus it’s the place to see and be seen this afternoon in New York. If you’re lucky enough to get past the paparazzi, you’ll surely be rubbing elbows with all kinds of exciting people, including a certain heartthrob all the way from London. But first I have two special young ladies from Boston, Maeve Kaplan-Taylor and Katani Summers.” The two girls smiled at the camera. Maeve beamed comfortably and tossed her curls behind her back as she tilted her head to the side. Lights, Camera, Action—she was in her element. Next to her, Katani sat stiff as a board. The tight, nervous grin pasted on her face was very unlike her normal smile.
Karen went on. “These ambitious young girls are interested in careers in the fashion industry. By participating in this show today, they are taking their first steps in that direction. Tell me, ladies, is modeling your first choice?”
Katani looked astonished. Modeling? She wasn’t expecting this, and she didn’t have a clue how to answer.
Unlike Katani, who sat flabbergasted without a thing to say, Maeve seemed to have plenty of ideas. She didn’t even need to think before casually responding, “Good question, Karen. To be honest…no, I’m not planning on becoming a model. I love fashion though! And I think the most exciting part for me…and my career…is just to be at this show in the first place!”