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Authors: Melody Carlson

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Homecoming Queen (9 page)

BOOK: Homecoming Queen
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“Kriti, Kriti, Kriti . . .” Grandmother shook her head in scornful way. “We all know that you’re short, dear, but you do not have to walk as if you’re short. Hold your head high. Elongate that neck. Straighten your back. There, that’s better. Stand proud, Little One.”

DJ was surprised that these girls seemed more than willing to put themselves through this deprecating form of torture. Even Casey, despite her usual I-hate-fashion attitude, was being a pretty good sport as she made her second walk down the runway.

“That’s better, Casey,” said Grandmother as Casey made her turn. “You really are such a pretty girl. So much better since you removed those horrid safety pins from your face. But, still, I do wish you’d let your hair go back to its natural color. That black is so severe against your pale skin.”

“I’ve seen other models who look just like that,” said DJ from the couch.

“Yes, well, I’ve seen
plus
-sized models too,” said Grandmother in a haughty tone. “That doesn’t mean that I approve of
fat.”

Eliza giggled. DJ made a face but had the sense to control her tongue. Still, she was getting tired, and the pain in her leg was getting worse.

“Yes, yes, that’s looking very nice, Rhiannon.” Grandmother clapped her hands. “Now keep your palms toward you. Longer steps. Yes, that’s better.”

Finally, after all the girls had done several walks down the “runway,” Grandmother seemed somewhat satisfied. But instead of letting them go, she began a lecture on the proper care of skin, hair, and nails. Not that Eliza or Taylor needed to be taught these things. Between the two of them, they probably had enough beauty products to open their own salon.

“There’s nothing worse than having a model show up for a photo shoot with dirty hair and fingernails.” Grandmother frowned with a disgusted expression. “And I’ve sent models away for not taking care with their complexions too. Oh, certainly, a small pimple can be airbrushed and dark shadows beneath the eyes can be adjusted, but if a girl doesn’t care about her appearance, why should anyone else?”

DJ felt herself drifting as her grandmother droned on about chemically treated hair, split ends, and blemish control. It was like the woman was a walking, talking fashion encyclopedia. Hopefully there wouldn’t be a test afterward.

Finally Grandmother was finished and dismissed the girls. “Remember,” she said as they began to disperse, “next Saturday morning you will be fitted for the fashion show.”

DJ almost asked if this included her, but she was afraid that her grandmother would say yes. It was better just to keep her mouth shut.

“This fashion show might be fun,” said Eliza as the girls worked together to put the furnishings back where they belonged.

“Fun for some of you maybe,” said Casey. “I’m not exactly looking forward to being gawked at by strangers.”

“But at least it’s for a good cause,” said Rhiannon.

“Which good cause?” asked DJ as she slowly moved across the room. Her plan was to get to her temporary bedroom, take some pain meds, and then come back here and fall asleep watching TV.

“We don’t know yet,” admitted Eliza. “But, come on, girls, let’s make it fun.”

“Whatever you say, Pollyanna.” Taylor rolled her eyes as she flopped down onto the couch, now back in place, and picked up the remote.

By the time DJ made it back to the living room, only Taylor was there. “Where’d everyone go?” asked DJ as she eased herself down into an easy chair, propping her leg on the ottoman.

“I guess I scared them away.”

DJ frowned. “What did you do?”

“Just being my charming self.” Taylor smiled innocently. “Hey, you want to see the news story I TiVo’ed?”

DJ agreed, then tried not to overreact when she saw her bruised and scraped face on the big screen. Good grief, if that’s how she looked after Eliza’s help, she couldn’t imagine how nasty it would’ve been without it. Note to self, she thought, tell Eliza thank you.

“You look good,” DJ told Taylor.

“Yes, I’m pretty photogenic,” admitted Taylor. “And you would be too if you weren’t so beat up.”

When it was over Taylor flipped through the channels until she finally landed on an old forties musical with Doris Day. DJ thought it was kind of amusing that Taylor actually seemed to enjoy those unrealistic glamour movies, but she had no intention of mentioning this since she felt fairly certain that Taylor would take offense and turn it off. Besides, it wasn’t long before all the singing and dancing combined with the Vicodin lulled DJ to sleep.

DJ woke up to a tickling sensation on her toes and the sound of giggles. She opened her eyes to see Eliza and Taylor hovering over her with Kriti and Casey looking on with interest.

“What’s going on?” she asked, noticing that there seemed to be a whole lot of beauty products on the coffee table. Maybe Taylor and Eliza had decided to open a salon after all.

“We’re practicing on you,” said Eliza. “Now hold your feet still while I finish your toenail polish. And, seriously, DJ, when was the last time you had a pedicure?”

“Probably the time you helped me with it before.”

“Well, your toes should be ashamed of themselves.”

DJ looked down to see her toes painted a coral pink with little white things — were they tampons? — stuck in between.

Then she noticed that her face was feeling tingly. She reached her hand up to discover something smeared all over it. “What’s this?” She examined what looked like green mucus on her fingers.

“It’s a new kelp facial that my mom sent me,” said Taylor. “I figured I’d try it out on you first. Just in case it makes your skin break out.”

“It stings,” said DJ.

“It’s supposed to. It’s exfoliating, and your skin should be smooth as silk when we’re done.”

“If it works, I want to be next,” said Kriti as she rubbed a hand over her cheek.

“We decided you needed some special attention,” said Eliza. “And since you were asleep — ”

“And snoring,” added Taylor.

“Yes, snoring rather loudly,” said Eliza. “We thought we’d just go ahead and get started.”

“I couldn’t believe you slept through all that,” said Casey.

“It’s that pain medication,” said DJ. She should be appreciative of this “special attention,” but it was also a little humiliating to think they’d been working her over while she was asleep — and snoring! “It really knocks me out.”

“Well, I’ve got homework to do,” said Kriti as she paused in the doorway. “But let me know if that facial works.”

“It needs to stay on for fifteen minutes,” said Taylor as she wiped something else beneath DJ’s eyes.

“I’m hungry,” said DJ.

“Me too,” said Casey. “Want me to go sneak something from the kitchen?”

DJ nodded. “Just don’t get caught,” she called as Casey slipped out.

“My work here is done,” said Eliza as she dropped some things in a bag. “Just let those toenails dry for at least ten minutes before you move around.” She blew an air kiss then made her exit. And, once again, it was just Taylor and DJ in the living room. Then the doorbell rang.

“Someone’s at the door,” said Taylor.

“Inez will get it,” said DJ.

Taylor glanced toward the doorway. “I wonder who it is . . . maybe I’ll check.”

“Well, whoever it is, don’t let them in here,” warned DJ. She looked down at her strange-looking toes with her sweatpants rolled up to her knees. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this.

“Back in a sec,” called Taylor.

DJ’s face was starting to sting even more now. Was it really supposed to feel like that? Or was this stuff burning her skin off? She was tempted to get up and go wash it off, but remembered about the toenails and then her broken leg. She was going nowhere.

“DJ’s right in here,” said Taylor in a sweet voice.

DJ sat up, turning in time to see Conner walking into the living room with a bouquet of pink roses.

DJ wanted to hide or scream or maybe even throw something. She glanced at the coffee table, wishing there was a baseball bat handy so she could clobber Taylor with it.

“Hey, good looking.” Conner wasn’t even trying to suppress a big grin as he set the roses on the coffee table. “Taylor told me that you were in the middle of a makeover. But I said I didn’t mind.”

“I tried to talk him out of it,” said Taylor.

“I’ll bet you did.” DJ glared at her.

Taylor just shrugged. “Hey, he wanted to see you. Don’t have a fit.”

DJ leaned back into the chair with an exasperated sigh. “I think this is what they call ‘insult to injury.’ ”

Conner laughed and sat down across from her. “I can leave if you want.”

DJ actually
did
want him to leave, but it had been sweet of him to bring flowers. And it seemed rude to send him away so quickly.

“Make yourself at home,” she said meekly. Then as he made an attempt at small talk, politely asking her about her leg and her ribs, she realized how juvenile she was acting. For a girl who claimed she didn’t care about her looks, why should she freak over being seen like this? Still, she and Conner hadn’t been going together that long . . . and already he’d seen her at her worst — numerous times.

Finally, Taylor shoed Conner away, saying that she needed to remove the facial goop and that he should come back later, after DJ had a chance to get herself more together. Conner stood then smiled at DJ, but he actually seemed relieved to go.

“But I can’t come back later,” he told them. “It’s my mom’s birthday, and I promised my dad that I’d help him make dinner.”

“What a sweet boy,” said Taylor in a condescending tone.

“I think that’s really nice,” said DJ. “And thanks for coming by — and for the flowers. Sorry I was such a mess.”

He chuckled. “That’s okay. Are you going to be in school tomorrow?”

“Probably not.”

“Well, I’ll call you.”

As soon as he left, Taylor began to remove the kelp goop from DJ’s face. “I think we need to get you to the bathroom,” said Taylor in a voice that sounded a little concerned.

“Is something wrong?” asked DJ as Taylor helped her up and gave her the crutches.

“I got food!” said Casey, bursting into the room with a tray in her hands. She started to set it on the table, but then she got an odd look. “What’s wrong with DJ’s face?”

“Nothing,” said Taylor quickly. “We just need to get her to the bathroom to get this stuff off.”

With their help, DJ moved as fast as she could, and when they got to the tiny bathroom, she peered at herself in the mirror to see that her face was lobster-red and puffy. She touched a hand to her cheek and looked at Taylor in horror. “What do I do?”

“Just rinse it with cool water,” said Taylor.

So DJ began splashing cool water on her face. But each time she checked out her reflection, she could see it wasn’t helping.

“I think it’s supposed to be like that for a while,” said Taylor. She handed DJ a towel. “I’ll go get the cream that’s supposed to follow the exfoliation. Maybe it will soothe this redness.”

DJ just stared at her red face in horror. No way was she going to school tomorrow. For a moment she wondered if Taylor had done this on purpose, although Taylor had seemed nearly as rattled as DJ felt.

“Here,” said Taylor as she reappeared with the cream. Now Casey and Eliza were standing behind her, all of them looking at DJ as if she were something from another planet, which she felt was a distinct possibility.

“Seriously,” said DJ in a disgruntled tone. “With friends like you guys, who needs to get run over by a truck?”

“You mean an SUV,” said Casey.

“Whatever.”

They laughed, and Taylor assured DJ that her skin was going to be okay. But Grandmother was not a bit pleased when DJ came to dinner looking like she’d been in the sun too long.

“What on earth happened to you?” she demanded.

Taylor explained. And then, to everyone’s surprise, she took the blame.

“Oh, well,” said Grandmother, placated it seemed since it had been Taylor’s mistake, not DJ’s. “I’m sure she’ll be fine. It’s probably no different than a chemical peel. And since she’s already incapacitated, it was probably a case of good timing.” She smiled at DJ now. “I’m sure your complexion will look lovely in a day or two.”

But when DJ got ready for bed, her face was still hot and irritated — which was a minor annoyance compared to the ache in her leg and the pain in her ribs every time she moved in the wrong way. She reached for her pain meds, but when she opened the little amber bottle, it was nearly empty. She poured the remaining pills into her palm — all six of them. How could this be? So she read the label and did the math to discover that, even after taking the full recommended dosage, there should’ve been more than twenty pills remaining.

Clearly, someone had helped herself to DJ’s meds, and DJ felt fairly certain she knew who that someone was. If she weren’t so sore and tired and if the stairs weren’t such an obstacle with her crutches, she would go up there and confront Taylor right now. As it was, she would have to wait until morning.

9

BOOK: Homecoming Queen
10.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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