True Colors (3 page)

****

I tried calling my dad at work when I got home to tell him about the writing contest. I had called him yesterday about the competition, and he said I got my good looks from his side of the family. He thought I had a good chance of getting chosen, but the only thing I've ever won was a pillowcase at a carnival and it always smelled like horse poo no matter how many times I washed it. I didn't get to see my dad a lot because he still lived in our old apartment in Chicago. Mom and I moved to Grand Rapids when she got a promotion last year. My dad was supposed to move, too, but the hospital he was planning on working at had some budget thing happen and they couldn't hire him after all, so he stayed to work at the medical clinic.

I kept hoping he'd move here to live with us, but my mom never talked about it when I asked. I tried talking to my dad about it, but he always said the same thing, “Go ask your mother.” They're not separated or anything, but I was always worried one day they were going to tell me they were getting divorced. My dad wasn't at the clinic, so I left him a message saying I'd e-mail the story to him.

****

The next day Tori came out of Mrs. Kharrazi's room while I was waiting to go to my next class. I smiled at her, and she raised her eyebrows at me and said Mrs. Kharrazi had gone on and on talking about my short story. Ericka walked over and interrupted her.

“Oh look, it's the supermodel,” Ericka said rolling her eyes. “Or are you a model
and
an author now?”

I couldn't respond because Mrs. Lacey started yelling at us “to move along,” like we were cows or something. My stomach felt all twisted up as I sat down and somebody passed me a worksheet, but I couldn't concentrate. I just stared at it until the lunch bell rang. I tried to catch Tori's eye in the cafeteria so I could take cuts in line, but she never looked my way. I kept praying everything would be okay by the time I sat down to eat because I would die if they stopped talking to me.

By the time I got to the lunch counter they were out of pizza, and they only had oatmeal cookies left for dessert. What a choice: cream of broccoli soup or leftover steak sandwiches… yum. Tori and Ericka stopped talking as soon as I got to our table. I tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach and acted like everything was fine, but I felt like puking. Ericka looked at my steak sandwich and said, “Ew,” but other than her gagging, neither one spoke to me. The bread started sticking in my throat, and I realized I forgot to get a bottle of juice. They got up to leave and I wasn't finished eating, but I threw my tray out and followed them outside. Ericka ran over to Hana Ito and started talking about her “cute” jacket. Hana's had it for two years, but I knew it was just a slam on me and I tried to smile.

“Landry, your jacket is cute,” Hana said.

“Thanks, it's Franciszka T,” I said.

“Being a supermodel, I guess you know all the designers now,” Ericka said.

A soccer ball came flying at us, and I ducked before it took my head off. Kyle ran after it and stuck his arm out like he couldn't stop. He pulled me back with him and then tried to lift me up even though I'm almost a foot taller than him. Ericka tried to get his attention, but he ignored her. Again. Ericka moved away and pulled out her wallet with some baby pictures of her little cousin, Isabella, to show Hana and Tori. Nobody passed me the pictures so I had to look over Hana's shoulder. I said Isabella was cute, but she looked like a fat raisin and she had Ericka's ugly hair color. Poor kid. Ericka didn't say anything to me, and I wondered if I had been bragging or something? I didn't mean to, but I thought Hana wanted to know about my jacket.

I felt like I was walking underwater the rest of the day. I had history with Tori and Ericka, and I sat at their table like always. Mrs. Hearst told us to get into groups of three to work on the questions at the end of the chapter. I thought everything was fine until Tori and Ericka got up to sit with somebody else and left me sitting by myself. I looked around the room, and the only group left with two people in it was India Allen and Peyton Urich's table. India and Peyton were best friends with Devon, the girl who was going to be in the
American Ingénue
competition with me. I took a deep breath and walked over to their table to ask if I could work with them.

“Sure. We're in luck. Loser here,” Peyton said nodding towards India, “thought we were supposed to do the questions for homework last night, so ours are already done.”

“I was at my grandparents' last night, and they don't have cable or Internet,” India said, flipping her long honey blonde hair over her shoulder. “And they live in the middle of nowhere, so it's not like you can get Wi-Fi for your phone. It's like being in a cave or something.”

Mrs. Hearst had us put our answers on the board, and I offered to go up and write the ones for our group. Mrs. Hearst asked if anyone had a different answer to each of the questions. No one had a problem until she got to our question, and Tori raised her hand. Tori probably thought I had come up with the answer since I wrote it on the board. Mrs. Hearst told her she only had it half right and moved on. Hah.

“Sorry it wasn't up to Tori's high standards,” India said, rolling her eyes in Tori's direction.

The bell rang, and I started to walk to the next class when I heard Ericka telling Tori I had been talking bad about them to Peyton and India.

“How pathetic,” Tori said.

I whirled around. “I didn't say anything about you guys.”

“Oh yeah, right. Why don't you go flirt with your new boyfriend?” Ericka said. “It's sad how you throw yourself at Kyle.”

“Maybe you could brag about your little story some more,” Tori said. “Or your fabulous modeling career.”

I went to French class and tried not to cry. I opened my book and pretended to read the next chapter on verbs. At least neither of them was in this class. Plus, it was Friday, and I'd have the weekend to get away from them. Of course, all this crap would start up again on Monday, but maybe they'd stop being mad at me by then. Otherwise, I'd have to pray for a freakishly early snowstorm on Sunday night.

At the end of the day, I waited until the last second to get on the school bus to go home so it would look like I was sitting in the front because there weren't any other seats. I didn't want anyone to know those jerks didn't want me around.

****

When I got home, Mom asked if I had any plans with my friends this weekend. I'd more or less have to have friends first. I shook my head, and she said we could order pizza and rent movies.

I headed over to the cartoon section at Movies ‘R Us. I'd never admit this to anybody, but I love those girlie princess movies. They always cheered me up. Of course, my mother always had to remind me the whole “prince coming to rescue the girl thing” was dangerous for my “impressionable mind” and how women need to find their own solutions and not wait for some man to save them. Still, it was nice to escape to fantasyland for a little while. I was deciding between
Cinderella
and
Sleeping Beauty
when I saw Ericka's dad, Mr. Maines, at the cash register. I looked over at the new releases and saw Ericka and Tori, who were cracking up over a video game display. I ducked down and pretended to be interested in the bottom shelf.

“Landry, why are you sitting on the floor?” my mom asked.

I knew she'd wonder why I wasn't invited to hang out with Tori and Ericka if she saw them in the store, and I didn't want my mom to know what was going on. She bent down, and I asked her to help me decide between movies. She said I could get them both, and we went to pick up the pizza.

I tried to concentrate on watching the movie my mom had picked out, but all I could think about was what Ericka and Tori were doing. They were probably having a great time talking about how much they hated me. It was one thing for Ericka to be mad at me because she was always sorta mad about something, but Tori and I had never gotten in a fight before.

“Landry, stop twirling your hair. You're getting grease in it,” my mother said.

My life was over, and she was concerned about greasy hair. She'd probably give my hair a nice rinse before calling 911 if I killed myself. Even if I did die, those two wouldn't come to my funeral. I bet the school would give the class a half-day to come to my funeral, and everybody would take the afternoon off to hang out.

“Why'd we get a half-day off?” someone would ask. “Didn't some girl toss herself off a bridge or something?”

“Yeah, the chick with the light blonde hair. What was her name? I think it's one of those names sort of like a last name… Smith or Harley or something…”

“I think it was Harley.”

“Poor Harley. Oh well, off to the movies.”

****

I spent the weekend watching movies and eating junk food. I know Sleeping Beauty falling into a deep sleep was supposed to be tragic, but right now I wouldn't mind a good coma. Then I wouldn't have to put up with those jerks giving me dirty looks and talking behind my back. It hurt to see Tori siding with Ericka because she always said I was her real best friend. I kept waiting for Tori to call and say we should make up, but the phone never rang, and I knew it was working because I checked it just in case. Sleeping Beauty had it made.

Then I realized Cinderella and I had a lot in common. Ericka was like the evil stepmother, and Tori could be both stepsisters because she was so two-faced. Of course, I didn't have a handsome prince to rescue me. We did have a rodent problem last year, but Mom called an exterminator. I don't think those mice would have been helpful in whipping up any designer clothing for me anyway. Maybe the modeling contest would make me a big star and I could leave this stupid town and never look back.

I managed to avoid Tori and Ericka on Monday. I even ate one of my mom's protein bars in the bathroom so I wouldn't run into them at lunch. I was going to try to talk to them in the bus line, but then I heard Ericka and Tori talking about me. I didn't hear everything, but I did catch the “ugly jacket” part, the “so stuck up” part, and worst of all, the “I never thought she would have gotten picked in a zillion years” part. I stood in the back of the line and sat with Ashanti when I got on the bus. I didn't want to start crying in front of Ashanti, so I told her I liked her purse. We started talking about clothes, and we found out we like to shop at the same stores.

When we got to Ericka's bus stop, she made a big point of inviting Tori over to her house. The bus pulled up to my stop next, but Ashanti asked me if I wanted to come over so I waited and got off at her stop instead.

“I always record
As
t
he Days Roll On
,” she said as we walked into her bedroom. “I'm in love with Bradley McMillan.”

“I love Troy,” I said. “I'm so glad Savannah left the oxygen tank in the coffin when she buried him alive.”

“I know, right? Remember the day the tank got messed up and Alfonso almost didn't dig him out fast enough?” she asked. “I was having an attack. Wanna watch today's show?”

“Yeah, I forgot to watch it on Friday,” I said.

“Troy was in the pool on Friday. You have to see it,” she said, cueing up the program.

We had a good time watching the show and later, when I got home, I saw Ashanti had added me as a friend on her social media page.

****

The next day, I waited inside for the bus so I wouldn't have to stand at the bus stop with Tori. Mom looked at my feet as she was leaving and freaked.

“Sandals? It's forty-five degrees out. Are you nuts?” she said. “And it's supposed to rain today, too.”

Mom went to the front closet and pulled out these ugly little yellow rubber shoes she bought me to wear in bad weather. She jokingly called “rubber duckies,” because they were the exact same color as a bathtub rubber duck. She thought they were cute, and I could keep my feet dry without anyone realizing I was wearing boots. Yeah, except for the fact I was wearing butt-ugly kindergarten booties. I tried to explain to her people were going to expect me to wear better stuff since everybody knew I was going to be a model. I was forced to wear the stupid Hillcrest uniform, but at least my feet could be cute.

“When you start making money like Talisa Milan then you can wear whatever you want on your feet,” she said.

Mom made me change my shoes and told me we were going shopping after school for some “sensible shoes.” There's nothing I hated more than shopping with my mother. She only bought me stuff
she
liked, even if it made me look four years old. I thought I heard the bus coming so I walked to the bus stop. Tori was there, but so was Devon Abrams, who was trying to pull her gorgeous curly dark hair into a ponytail.

“Why is the bus always late when it's cold? We should protest or something,” Devon said.

Everybody liked Devon because she had a bubbly personality and was a lot of fun. She was also, like, TV pretty. She had huge brown eyes and long curly dark hair. Today she had on a button-down shirt, untucked, with khaki pants, and she looked gorgeous. I was wearing the exact same outfit, and I looked like a rumpled little boy standing next to her. I could understand why she'd be picked to model, but I couldn't figure out why they had chosen me.

Ericka's mom drove up, and Ericka rolled down the window. “Tori, wanna ride?”

Tori got in and they drove off, while the rest of us stood out in the cold.

“I wish Ericka had asked me if I wanted a ride so I could have said, ‘No, thanks,'” Devon said.

With my luck, Ericka would come back tomorrow and give Devon a ride, too. The bus pulled up, but Ashanti was already sitting with someone. I started to ask a seventh grader to move his solar system project, but Devon told me to move to the back with her. She plopped down next to India, and Peyton moved her binder to make room for me. Peyton was trying to get her English homework done, so I let her borrow mine. She had just finished copying it when the bus pulled in front of the school.

“Thanks, I owe you,” she said. I just shrugged as I shoved my notebook into my bag.

I hoped it would rain so I wouldn't have to go outside today. Plus, then my stupid rubber duckies wouldn't look so dumb. No such luck, but I managed to avoid going outside by offering to help Ms. Ashcroft put together the mid-month folders. We have to get our parents to sign the back of our folders to show they know how we're doing in our classes. Ericka and Tori always take out any assignment lower than a ninety-five percent before they show it to their parents.

It didn't rain until the end of the day, and I was soaked when I got to my bus. I sat behind the bus driver and scrunched down in the seat, hoping no one would see me. Ericka got on the bus and asked if my shoes were made of “designer” rubber. I stared out the window and pretended not to hear her.