Apple's Angst (20 page)

They gave each other a peck on both cheeks.

“I see you are working on Apple for her photo shoot today. I overheard you say something about straightening her hair with that new product. That's from Italy, yes?”

“Yes. Exactly. It's all the rage there,” Celia said. “People fly from all over the world to buy it! They won't even ship it. You have to know exactly the right people.”

“Brilliant,” said Fancy Nancy.

How could she say no to Fancy Nancy—or Celia, who clearly had already made up her mind?

“Let's do it!” Apple said, trying to sound excited, like Celia and Fancy Nancy. Maybe she
should
be excited. After all, both Celia, makeup artist and hairdresser to the stars, and Fancy Nancy thought it was a “brilliant” idea.

“It will take a couple of hours,” Celia said.

“Good thing you came in early today,” said Nancy. “And good for you for taking risks. We like people at
Angst
who take risks.”

With that, she left the room and Celia got to work, washing Apple's hair first, then massaging in awful-smelling chemical lotion, and finally, putting a plastic shower cap over her hair.

At least, Apple thought, no matter how badly this turned out, she could tell people that she got her hair done by the same person who does J. Lo and other celebrities. Apple regretted not cutting at least one of her boings off, as a memory. She felt like she imagined a six-year-old must losing her first tooth.

Happy called while Apple was sitting under a hair dryer, holding a scarf over her nose and hoping that she wasn't inhaling too much of the chemical product, the scent of which was making her nauseous.

“What are you doing?” Happy asked.

“I've been sitting under a dryer for, like, six months now. My hair is getting straightened. I think I've lost half my brain cells smelling all the chemicals,” Apple whispered.

“Straightened?” Happy asked.

“Oh, yes. Apparently with this new product from
Italy
I won't have curly hair for months!”

“Months? Are you serious?” Happy asked. “But I love your hair. Are you sure about this? I love your hair exactly the way it is.”

“Stop saying that. It's too late. I'm freaked out enough. I think I may cry. I couldn't say no. They weren't going to listen to me,” Apple moaned. “And it happened so fast!”

“I'm sure it will turn out fine. And, hey, it's only a couple of months, right?” Happy said supportively.

“I guess,” Apple responded despondently. Though she had always complained about her hair, Apple knew there was nothing worse than a bad haircut.

“I have something else you can't say no to,” Happy said.

“What?” Apple asked.

“Remember how Zen texted me and wanted to meet tonight ‘to talk'? I told him that I was hanging out with you at
Angst
today and couldn't meet him until later. He said that was cool. But the thing is, I don't
want
to meet him. Please, Apple, please? He'll be out front at around ten. Just get in the car with him and tell him I suddenly got sick and left early,” Happy begged. “I'm hoping to hook up with Therapy Boy.”

“You can't be serious, Happy! You're going to have to face him one of these days. What am I going to do with him?” Apple asked.

“Do whatever you want! I know I have to see him and have ‘the talk.' Just not today. I can't. I just can't. Please do this for me.”

“But what am I going to say to him?” Apple whispered. She didn't think anyone at
Angst
would appreciate her talking about anything that wasn't work-related. And she couldn't believe she was going to cover for Happy, who was meeting up with another guy!

“I don't care what you say really. Say I wasn't feeling well. Please just go for me,” Happy begged.

Happy continued to plead, but Celia had finally come back to fetch Apple.

She pointed at Apple's ear. “Off! Now! We have twenty minutes to get you to the photo studio.”

“Happy, I have to go,” Apple said frantically.

“So you'll do it?” Happy asked.

“Yes, yes. Fine. I'll do it. Got to run!” Apple said, hanging up on Happy, who was in the middle of saying thank—

Everyone today, it seemed, was forcing Apple into doing things she wasn't entirely comfortable with. No one would let her say no. Why did Apple feel that she was letting everyone walk over her?

N
o one let Apple look in the mirror as they did her makeup and finished drying her hair. She had two people brushing out her hair and two others working on her makeup, while her back faced the mirror.

“Please let me look!” she begged over and over.

“No,” was always the answer. Did she look awful? It was certainly taking a long time. Apple wondered if this was because she was “real.” Perhaps people who were really meant to be in the pages of
Angst
didn't need so much time and effort put into making them look good.

“Can you please, then, just tell me what you think? You're killing me here! I can't take it!” Apple went to run her hand through her now straight and smooth-as-a-baby's-skin hair, but Celia swatted it away. “Patience, my dear. Beauty is all about patience. I say you are going to wish you were born with hair like this.”

“Are you guys ready? We go to print in three hours.
We need her photo taken pronto!” Michael said walking in. “Where is she?”

“Michael? It's me!” Apple said.

“Apple?” Michael said, hopping back. “Be still my heart!”

“They made me!” Apple said.

“You look … you look stunning. You look … well, you look like a model. Celia, again, I bow to you! Will you take her to the studio in five? Apple, I feel like crying, you look so beautiful.”

He reached out and held on to her hand, like he was a proud older brother. Apple suddenly felt calmer. She instinctively trusted Michael's opinion, like she trusted Guy's opinion on clothes and makeup.

“No problem,” said Celia. She seemed very proud of herself.

“Can I look now?” Apple begged after Michael left.

“Yes,” Celia said, spinning her chair around so Apple faced the mirror.

Apple couldn't believe what—rather, who—she was looking at. Her once shoulder-length boingy, curly hair was now so long and straight it reached halfway down her back. And Celia was right. Apple had cheekbones, and her eyes looked bigger and wider! Even Apple, who rarely thought she looked good, thought she looked … stunning!

Apple was so impressed with the result she jumped up and hugged Celia and the other makeup artists. “I love it. I love it!” Apple screeched.

“Celia does not make mistakes. Please, you have makeup on,” she said, pulling away from Apple's embrace.
“But I'm glad you're glad. You look like a movie star now, yes? And that's what we always aspire to here at
Angst
. Follow me.”

It soon became clear that although at present she may have looked like a movie star, she definitely didn't know how to act like one.

The cranky photographer apparently was not used to working with novices.

“Smile! No, not like that. You're smirking! Okay, smile! Not so much teeth! More serious!” he demanded over and over, as Apple sat.

She wanted to yell, “I'm not smirking! This is how I smile!”

“How big is this photograph going to be?” she asked Michael, who came to check in at one point.

“About the size of a postage stamp,” Michael answered. “Maybe a bit larger. We'll see.”

“All this for a tiny photo?” she wondered aloud.

“Oh, you'd be surprised, Apple. Our readers see the most minuscule detail. We get thousands of letters and rarely do any of them have to do with the stories—more like, ‘Why are her roots showing?' and ‘Where can I get that writer's glasses?' The head furniture also makes you stand out, makes readers know that you are somebody important. And we might use some of the photos for advertising purposes—we'll see,” he answered casually.

“Really? Am I that important?” Apple asked.

“You are now. I read your first draft. I did a little editing. Nancy did a little editing. For your first attempt, it wasn't bad. Not bad at all. Congratulations! Next Monday the first issue featuring Apple'sAngst will be
on stands and on doorsteps everywhere. Excited?” Michael asked.

“Nervous,” Apple said. She felt comfortable telling Michael the truth. She realized that she had been spending more time with Michael these days than with her own family. He was starting to feel like family.

“Well, you've had a long day. You can go now. Don't forget to start practicing for your
Angst TV
spot. Basically, you're going to read a letter and you'll answer it. You're going to have to speak on your toes, but I'm sure you've learned a hell of a lot from your mother, right?” Michael asked.

Apple couldn't help but lie. “Yup.”

“Is Emme still here?” Apple asked, finding herself caring about her colleague.

“I told her to go too,” Michael said. “She spends so much time here! Have a good night, sweetie.”

Apple smiled at Michael as she left. She ran into Emme as she was walking out of the building.

Although Emme had been nice, friendly even, to Apple earlier that day, Apple was worried she'd say something nasty about her new hair and how she looked wearing professional makeup.

“Apple?” Emme asked.

“You like?” Apple asked, jokingly shaking her now long, straight hair side to side.

“Do I like? You look gorgeous,” Emme sighed.

“Come on!” Apple responded modestly.

“No, seriously. You look absolutely fantastic. Your hair is so awesome. You should straighten it more often. It looks so thick and luxurious and long. People pay
tons of money to get hair extensions to look like the hair you now have,” Emme said. Then she asked softly, “Can I feel it?”

“Sure,” Apple said.

Emme ran her manicured hand over Apple's new hair. Apple didn't mind at all.

“Hey, you want to go out for a drink? You look old enough with all that makeup on. I don't think we'd have a problem. And I've never had a problem,” Emme said with a wink.

Apple looked out the window to see Zen's white pickup truck pulling up.

“Emme, I would love to. I mean it. It's just that I've made previous plans,” Apple said. She was annoyed that she had to meet Zen on Happy's behalf. She could have gone out with Emme and gotten to know her better.

“Is that your boyfriend?” Emme asked curiously.

“No! He's just a friend. His name is Zen. He's great. I do have a boyfriend. His name is Lyon. I'd love for you to meet him. Maybe we can all hang out sometime,” Apple suggested. She didn't want Emme's offer to go out tonight to be a one-time occurrence.

“Sure. He looks super cute. Oh, my God, he is cute,” Emme said, as Zen drove up in front of them.

“That's what everyone says at school,” Apple told Emme.

“Is he single?”

“Not exactly,” Apple said.

“What do you mean?” Emme pressed.

“Well, he's kind of going out with my best friend Happy,” Apple answered.

“He's the one you two were fighting over?” Emme said, looking at Apple with wide eyes.

“Well, it wasn't really a fight. He chose Happy, not me,” Apple said quietly. “Let me introduce you.”

Emme looked at her strangely but followed her to the truck. Zen opened his window.

“Hey, Zen. This is my colleague Emme,” Apple said, trying to sound chipper.

Zen looked confused. Why wouldn't he? He wasn't expecting Emme, or even Apple, for that matter. He was expecting his girlfriend, Happy.

Zen played it cool, though, even after Apple tried casually to mention that Happy wasn't going to meet him after all. Emme shot Apple a questioning glance, but there was no way Apple could explain all this to her.

Then Zen really looked at Apple. His jaw, literally, dropped.

“Jesus, you look different, Apple!” Zen said.

“Different good? Different bad?” she asked, suddenly feeling very insecure.

“Different hot,” Zen said.

“See? I told you. I should go,” Emme interrupted. “I don't want to ruin your evening.”

“Do you need a ride?” asked the ever-thoughtful Zen.

“No, I'm good. See you, Apple. And it was nice to meet you, Zen.”

“Have a good night, Emme,” Apple said sincerely. “And definitely a raincheck on going out after work one day, okay?”

“Absolutely,” responded Emme, before waving goodbye and walking back into the building.

Apple walked around and jumped into the passenger seat.

“So where is she?” Zen asked, obviously asking about Happy.

“She suddenly got a migraine and had to leave. She told me she'd call you later. She felt awful about it,” Apple said. She hated lying to Zen, but Happy had begged her for this favor. She hated to think that Happy was out with another guy behind sweet Zen's back. And, worse, Apple was covering for her!