She imagined herself finally looking like the other girls—the ones who’d left her in their dust. She imagined herself going up to Virginia and saying, “What do you think of me now?” Although she knew she’d never do that for real. Not only would it be humiliating, it would be pointless. And what if Virginia laughed at her? Or told Chelsea that she still didn’t measure up? No, she didn’t need that. Kate had been giving her little speeches about believing in herself, about holding her head high, about acting like she was equal to anyone. Chelsea supposed she believed that, at least on most levels—intellectually, morally, inwardly. It was just those exterior things that got her down.
“I don’t want to see my hair until you’re completely done,” Chelsea told Andrea as she closed her eyes. “Is that okay?”
Andrea chuckled. “Yeah, it’s fine. It’ll be fun to see your reaction. Kind of like how they do it on What Not to Wear.”
While more steps of varying procedures were performed on Chelsea’s hair, she kept her eyes closed or away from the mirror until finally the blow-dryer stopped.
“Okay,” Andrea said. “All done.”
Chelsea opened her eyes and was shocked to see a gorgeous head of silky blonde hair. She gave her head a shake and realized that her hair actually swung and moved. It was cut in layers, with the longest part just a couple of inches below her shoulders. She fingered it. “I didn’t even know my hair was this long.”
“It always gets longer when it’s straightened.” Andrea smiled. “Do you like it?”
“No.” Chelsea shook her head again. “I love it!”
Kate joined them. “Oh, Chelsea,” she gushed. “It looks amazing.”
Chelsea was still touching it. “I can’t believe this is really my hair. It feels totally different.”
“It’s yours,” Andrea told her. “You’re lucky that it’s nice and thick. Some girls get the blowout and discover their hair is too thin.”
“How often will she need to have this done?” Kate asked.
“About eight to ten weeks.” Andrea showed them some hair products. “If you use these, it will last longer and really improve the quality of your hair.”
Kate touched Chelsea’s hair. “And it’s true that her hair will stay straight and smooth even if she goes swimming?”
Andrea nodded. “Even in the ocean.”
“Amazing.”
Chelsea was so happy she hugged both Kate and Andrea. “I feel like a different person,” she told them. She was still shaking her head, enjoying the feel of the silky hair on her bare shoulders. It really was amazing.
“We’re not done yet,” Kate reminded her. They went over to another station. “Leanne is a cosmetologist,” Kate told Chelsea after she introduced her. “She’s going to help you learn the basics of makeup.”
“Have you used makeup before?” Leanne asked.
“I tried a couple of times, but I looked like a clown. So I gave up.”
“Well, you don’t need to look like a clown,” Leanne assured her. “We’ll go for a natural look, okay?” She showed Chelsea some powders that she called minerals, and step-by-step she showed Chelsea how brushes were used and how the colors were layered on to look natural. “They’re actually good for your skin,” she told her. “You can even sleep in them if you want.”
“But don’t,” Kate said. “You need to keep up your skin-care routine if you want to keep your complexion clear.”
Leanne showed Chelsea how to use an eyeliner pencil and how to smudge it with her fingertip so it didn’t look too dramatic. She also showed her how to use eye shadow. “Just for fun,” she said. Finally she showed her how to use mascara and lip color. “And that’s all there is to it.” She turned the chair around so Chelsea could see in the mirror.
“Wow!” Chelsea leaned forward, staring in wonder. “It’s like someone else.”
“Are you okay with it?” Leanne sounded worried.
“Absolutely.” Chelsea looked at Kate. “Do you think Dad will mind if I get some of these products too?”
“This one is on me, Chels.” Kate nodded at Leanne. “We’ll take some of everything that you used on her today.”
As they were driving home, Chelsea confessed to Kate about how she used to relate to Dracula.
“Dracula?” Kate frowned. “Was he a vampire or a werewolf or what? I don’t exactly recall.”
“Vampire.”
“Oh, like the Twilight books?”
“Sort of. But Bram Stoker wrote Dracula more than a hundred years ago. In Stoker’s novel, a vampire couldn’t see his reflection in a mirror, so he had to avoid mirrors.”
“I don’t get it. I mean, what difference would it make?”
“A vampire wouldn’t want anyone to see him looking in a mirror,” Chelsea explained, “because he wouldn’t be visible and then they’d know he was a vampire. So he just steered clear of mirrors.”
“Right.” Kate frowned. “I’m sorry . . . I’m still kind of lost.”
“Well, that’s what I’d tell myself—that I couldn’t look in the mirror either. The truth was I’d get so depressed every time I looked in the mirror that I’d feel like jumping off a bridge or something. So I just avoided mirrors altogether.”
“Oh, Chelsea.” Kate shook her head. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Chelsea smiled. “I have a feeling those days are behind me now.”
“I hope so.”
It seemed those days really were a thing of the past as Chelsea dressed for their Big Reveal dinner. After she’d put on the periwinkle-blue BCBG sundress with the thin belt that matched the bronze sandals, she couldn’t stop staring at herself in the full-length mirror. Even though she felt a little foolish, not to mention vain, she couldn’t stop looking. She’d pose from all angles and even practice walking since heels were still new to her, but she simply couldn’t believe her eyes.
“Are you ready?” Kate asked as she knocked on the bedroom door.
“I guess so.” Still she stood gaping at herself.
Kate opened the door, causing the mirror to angle away from Chelsea so that she was just standing there. “Oh my!” Kate grinned. “You are a knockout, Chelsea. A totally hot knockout.”
“I, uh, I think I’m in shock,” Chelsea admitted. “Maybe it’s kind of like culture shock.”
“Yes, it will take some getting used to. To be honest, my transformation, back when I was your age, happened a little more slowly. But that’s because I didn’t have help.”
Chelsea felt her eyes filling with tears. “Oh, Kate!” She threw her arms around her. “I was worried that you were going to be a wicked stepmother, but it’s like you’re really a fairy godmother instead.” Chelsea went over to her dresser and picked up the framed photo of her mom. She held it out as if her mom could peer at her from the photo. “I know if Mom could see me now, if she could see how you’ve helped me . . . well, she would love you too.”
Now they were both crying. Hugging and crying. Then they had to fix their eye makeup again and retouch their lip gloss.
“Okay, gorgeous girl.” Kate grinned at her. “Ready to go make an appearance?”
Chelsea nodded. “Dad’s probably already there waiting for us.”
“I told him to be patient.” Kate looked at the purses that Chelsea had laid on her bed. “This one,” she told her, picking up the ivory Kate Spade bag. “Perfect.”
Chelsea wasn’t surprised when Dad nearly fell out of his chair to see them coming his way. “You’ve got to be kidding,” he told them. “This is someone else you’ve brought with you, Kate. This cannot be my daughter.”
Chelsea gave a mock frown. “Are you saying I don’t look good?”
He shook his head. “No, sweetie, you look incredible. I just can’t believe it’s really you.” He stared at her. “I always knew you were beautiful, but I’ve never seen you this put together.”
Chelsea grinned at Kate. “Thanks to Kate.”
Dad pulled out Kate’s chair, and b
efore he could pull out Chelsea’s chair, the waiter stepped in. “Here, let me help the lovely young lady,” he said with an approving expression.
Even though this was the same restaurant they’d eaten at more than a month ago, and it was even the same waiter, Chelsea felt like she was truly someone else. Before, she’d felt invisible . . . or worse. But tonight she not only felt visible, she felt pretty and appreciated.
Okay, she realized that it seemed a little weird, maybe even wrong, to suddenly feel appreciated simply because she’d changed her exterior appearance. But just the same, she liked it. Did that make her shallow or superficial? Did it mean she was a fake, a phony? After all, hadn’t she thought those same things, passed those same judgments on some of her old friends—including Virginia? What if she had turned into one of them?
No, of course not, she reassured herself. She was still Chelsea Martin. After those horrible years of being put down and picked on thanks to her looks, she knew she would never act that way to anyone. Never! She would rather turn back into her plain ugly self than turn into a mean girl. If nothing else, she had learned the hard way what it felt like to be snubbed for her looks. She would never go there—no matter what, she would never stoop that low. She knew better than anyone that beneath this polished veneer, she was still the same vulnerable girl. She knew what it felt like to hurt. She also knew that her own deep insecurities, unlike her exterior appearance, would be slow to change. Perhaps that was for the best.
Thanks to a reduced price on their house, the sale closed just days before they were scheduled to leave. Already Dad had a Realtor lined up to show them a dozen houses in their price range in a subdivision not far from where he’d be working in San Jose.
Today was the big day. The big truck with a huge storage pod had just left. Completely loaded with all their things, it was now on its way to a site where the pod would sit until they were ready to have it shipped to San Jose. Dad and Chelsea would’ve been on the road too, but Kate had stopped by on her way to work to say goodbye.
“I can’t believe this won’t be home anymore,” Chelsea said to Dad as they did one last walk around the yard.
He nodded. “I know what you mean.”
“I can’t believe you’re really going to drive all the way out there,” Kate said. “You could’ve flown and had the car shipped.”
“I’ve always wanted to take a cross-country trip,” he said. “I had the vacation time coming anyway.”
“And we’ll take turns driving,” Chelsea pointed out. “That way I’ll have enough driving hours to apply for my license when we get to California.”
Dad frowned. “We’ll see about that.”
“I’m going to miss you both so much,” Kate said as she hugged them.
“Then hurry and sell your condo and come out and join us,” Chelsea urged her.
“I wish I could.” Kate shook her head. “But you know I promised to stay at my job until the end of September.”
“It’s going to be a long two months.” Dad sighed.
“Well, at least I’ll have the wedding plans to keep me busy.”
“And I already booked our flight back here,” he added.
“Thank goodness for Skype,” she said. “We can talk face-to-face every night.”
“And maybe I can talk you into flying out,” he said. “Maybe for Labor Day weekend?”
“We’ll see.”
Chelsea turned away while they embraced and kissed. As much as she was used to Kate by now, she was still not used to seeing them kissing. But at least she wasn’t saying “eeuw.”
“Well, we better hit the road if we’re going to make Topeka by this evening.”
Kate shook her head. “That’s a lot of driving for one day. You two better be careful.”
“We will.”
“Oh, I almost forgot something.” Kate ran back to her car, returning with a small paper bag and something else. “This is for you, Chelsea.” She winked as she handed her the bag. “Hopefully they’ll fit.”
Chelsea peeked inside the bag. “What is it?”
“You said you didn’t have a swimsuit. I figured you’d be stopping at some hotels with pools, so I picked up a couple of suits for you.”
“Thanks!” Chelsea hugged her again. “By the way, do you still want me to be in your wedding?”
“Of course I do. I thought we’d been over all that by now.”
“Oh, okay.”
Kate put her hand on Chelsea’s cheek. “I’m going to miss you, sweetie.”
“I’m going to miss you too.”
Kate handed Dad a CD. “Something for the road.”
“Dionne Warwick?” Dad cocked his head to one side. “Huh?”
“Song number six.” She grinned. “Just listen.”
They were about ten minutes out of town when song number six came on. They both laughed to hear “Do You Know the Way to San Jose?” Chelsea turned the volume up, trying to understand the lyrics.
“I don’t know if I ever heard Dionne Warwick before, but I actually like her,” Chelsea said after the CD ended.
“I’ve got an idea,” Dad said. “What if you and I memorize the lyrics to the San Jose song and we can do a duet for Kate at the wedding reception?”
Chelsea’s first reaction was to say forget it. But remembering how much Kate had done for her, and knowing that she should no longer have such a phobia about being in front of people, she agreed.
They took turns driving, and finally at a little past seven they made it to Topeka. After a quick fast-food dinner, they checked into a motel. Seeing that there was a rather inviting-looking pool next to the lobby, Chelsea decided to try out one of the swimsuits Kate had given her. When she pulled them out of the bag, she was surprised to see how skimpy they both were. One was actually a string bikini. The other had a little more coverage but was still beyond Chelsea’s comfort zone. But seeing her dad crashing on one of the beds and tuning into a sports network, she decided to go for it. After all, it was a hot summer night and she didn’t know a soul in this town. What did she have to lose?
She went into the bathroom and put on the swimsuit with more coverage, then just stared at her image in the mirror. With her faux tan and lightened and straightened hair, plus the other improvements, she really didn’t recognize this girl. She admired herself from various angles, and feeling surprisingly confident, albeit a little nervous, she wrapped a towel around her like a sarong skirt and slipped out. Dad was already snoring, so she left him a note saying she’d be at the pool. She rode the elevator down and got a soda from the machine, then ventured out to the pool area.
Several teens as well as some younger kids were noisily enjoying the pool, and Chelsea was barely in the area before she began to feel extremely awkward and self-conscious. She noticed a couple of the teens glancing her way, probably taking inventory. Suddenly she knew there was no way she was going to remove her sarong towel and get into the pool. But she felt too embarrassed to turn and leave.
Trying to appear nonchalant, she pulled a table next to a lounge chair and set her soda down. She wanted to look comfortable in her own skin as she sat down, but she knew this was a joke. Anyone with eyes in their head could see through this pathetic act. Chelsea felt like a fish out of water.
She took a deep breath, something Kate had told her to do, and began to remind herself of some of the little confidence-instilling tricks Kate had been trying to teach her.
“Smile,” she had told Chelsea again and again. “It not only increases your face value, it makes you feel better inwardly. And when you feel better on the inside, it radiates to the outside.”
Although she’d been a skeptic at first, Chelsea knew from trying this little smiling trick that it really was true. She did feel better when she smiled. It’s like it changed something inside of her. Usually anyway. At the moment it felt silly to sit there smiling. Too bad she hadn’t brought a book or a magazine with her. Then she could’ve pretended to be highly amused by what she w
as reading.
She moved on to another Kate tip. “Make eye contact with the person who’s intimidating you.” How was she supposed to do that when there were five teens—two guys and three girls—making her uncomfortable? Not that they were saying anything, but she felt their glances. After years of practicing avoidance and playing the wallflower, she found that looking away came very naturally. Seriously, how was she supposed to make eye contact? Not only did it feel personally threatening, it was downright scary. Even so, she made a couple of feeble attempts. She wondered if Kate would be laughing at her right now. But it was just too hard. How was she supposed to make eye contact with a perfect stranger? Furthermore, why should she even want to?
She leaned back in the lounge and gazed at the fogged-up roof covering the pool, recalling something else Kate had told her—something Kate had said quite often. “You need to change your interior dialogue.” At first Chelsea hadn’t understood how that was even possible, but Kate had made her practice by saying the words aloud. Like a parrot, Chelsea would repeat them after Kate. Now she recited them inside her head. I am an attractive, intelligent girl. I have a lot to offer other people. People want to get to know me.
“Hey,” a guy said to her.
She turned to see a guy with dark hair standing next to her lounge chair, looking down at her. He was smiling, and she realized he was even better looking up close than from a distance. That alone made her want to freeze or run the other way. Then she remembered Kate’s advice. Smile. So she forced a smile. Make eye contact. She did that too.
“Hey what?” she asked him in a voice that sounded somewhat like her own.
“Are you afraid of the water or something?”
She glanced over to the pool, then forced another smile as well as a shrug. “Looks a little crowded in there,” she managed to say. Her throat felt dry and she felt shaky inside. This was so out of her comfort zone.
“So how about the Jacuzzi?” He nodded to the hot tub at the end of the pool, where one of the teen girls was sitting.
“Oh.” She nodded, reaching for her soda, wanting something wet to coat her throat. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
Jerk Magnet, The (Life at Kingston High Book #1) Page 4