Fashion Academy (5 page)

When JC offered to help Mickey, she had no idea what she was getting herself into. He invited her over to his apartment the next day after school.

“Okay, first things first,” he said, ushering her into his room-turned-design studio. “We need to rethink your branding.”

He opened his bag, and Madonna leaped out. She took a seat in her pink leopard-print dog bed and settled in for a snooze.

“You made all of these?” Mickey asked, looking through Madonna's basket filled with doggy couture.

“Do you like them?” JC asked. “This one's my favorite.” He held up a black satin dog coat covered in white embroidered skulls. “Very Alexander McQueen, don't you think?”

Mickey nodded. “Very. And this pink quilted vest is so Chanel.”

“I know. I'm a doggy design genius.”

Mickey giggled. JC certainly had a ton of confidence. She used to feel that way about her designs too. But during her first week at FAB, nothing seemed to be going right. She was dressed in all blue today, right down to the navy streaks in her hair and her nail polish. It reflected her mood.

“So let's talk about who you are,” JC said, pulling out a sketchbook and a pencil.

“Do you have amnesia? I'm Mickey Williams,” she answered.

“No, I mean, who do you want the world to see you as? I, for example, do not want to be regarded as Javen Linus Cumberland. Who would buy anything with that label? So I rebranded myself as JC Canine Couture. Get it?”

“Linus?” Mickey chuckled. “I can see why you changed your name.”

“So who are you?” he pushed her. “As a designer?”

Mickey looked puzzled. “I'm not sure. I'm just me.”

“Okay, then let's deal with appearances first,” he said, handing her a towel. “No more Cruella De Vil hair. Wash out those streaks.”

“Really? Is this necessary?” she complained.

JC held up a hand. “Do you want people to think of you as more than the Cabbage Patch Kid?”

“Fine,” Mickey said, grabbing the towel out of his hand and walking to the bathroom. “I'll try anything.” She scrubbed her hair in the sink and blew it dry so it fell in soft waves around her shoulders. When she came back, JC nodded in approval.

“Blond is definitely your color,” he said. “No more trying to hide it with hair chalk.”

He handed her a garment bag. “Try this on for size. I usually sew for pups, not people, but I think I did a decent job.”

Mickey unzipped the bag. Inside was a teal one-shouldered dress. The fabric was soft and shimmery and draped to perfection.

“Wow. It's really beautiful. You made this?” she asked.

“I saw something similar on the Paris Runway reports—Beyoncé bought it.”

Mickey admired the delicate stitches and attention to detail. “It's amazing, JC, but I just don't think it's me.”

JC took the dress off the hanger and handed it to her. “It is you. The
new
you. Try it on.”

She ducked into the bathroom and slipped the dress over her head. It fit her like a glove. When she looked in the mirror, she barely recognized the person staring back at her.

JC knocked on the door. “How does it look?”

Mickey opened the door and stepped out. JC's jaw dropped.

“Wow. You look like a supermodel. This oughta give Jade and her cloniacs something to talk about tomorrow!”

“Oh no. I can't go to school like this!” Mickey exclaimed.

“Oh, yes you can!” JC insisted. “And we'll need a really good story to go with it.” He flopped down on his beanbag chair to think of a plan. “I know! Your real name is Kenzie Wills, and your father is a famous fashion designer. You were just trying to hide your true identity from the paparazzi!”

Mickey sighed. “My father is a bass player who I haven't seen in ten years.”

JC shrugged. “So? A little white lie never hurt anyone. Right, Madonna?”

The tiny dog yawned in approval.

“How would my dad be a designer that no one has ever heard of?” Mickey asked.

“He designs very far away—in Finland. That's it! He's a Finnish fashion star! To the royal family of Finland!”

Mickey shook her head. “And you think Jade is going to buy that? Or South or any of them?”

JC grinned. “With a little gossip, they'll buy anything. And I know just how to spread the word.”

He went to his laptop and typed in a website address: www.sewfab.com.

“What is that?” Mickey asked.

“A little style blog that everyone at FAB worships. No one knows who writes it—it's a Gossip Girl kinda thing. Very secretive. But you can send in your tips. Which is exactly what I'm going to do…”

Mickey watched nervously as JC's fingers flew across the keyboard. When he was finished, he showed her what he'd written:

What new student is really the daughter of Finnish fashion royalty in disguise hiding out from the press? Watch for a grand entrance at FAB tomorrow morning!

JC had insisted that Mickey not take the bus Friday morning to school. He insisted she needed “a big reveal.”

Think, “I'm Kenzie Wills, design diva!”
he texted her bright and early.
And don't forget to ditch the high-tops and wear my mom's heels that I gave you! C U soon!

Mickey knew she had to play the part of Kenzie Wills or no one would believe her. So she tried it out on Aunt Olive first.

“Morning, Auntie,” Mickey said, gliding into the kitchen in her new dress.

“You look…
different
,” Olive noted. “No turquoise streaks in your hair today to match your dress?”

Mickey wrinkled her nose. “That is
so
yesterday.”

Olive shrugged. “I thought yesterday was blue streaks. I can't keep up with you, Mackenzie.”

“Few can,” Mickey said, pouring herself a glass of grapefruit juice. “It isn't easy to be a fashion icon, you know.”

“I wouldn't want to try!” Olive replied. “For what it's worth, I like your dress. It's more conservative than the other outfits you've been wearing.”

“I dialed it down a notch,” Mickey said, checking her look one last time in the mirror before she headed out to the corner to wait for JC. “
Hay
hay!
”

Olive looked puzzled. “
Hay
hay?
What does that mean?”

“It's
good-bye
in Finnish,” Mickey explained. JC had also suggested she look up a few Finnish phrases on Google Translate. Just in case.

“Oh.
Hay
hay
,” Olive replied. “Have a good day.”

As she stood outside waiting for her friend, Mickey tried her best not to fidget or pace. Besides, walking in these high heels made her feet kill! If she was going to pull this off, she needed to be cool and confident—not to mention fluent in Finnish!

A long, black limo pulled up and honked its horn. A chauffeur stepped out and held the door open for her.

“Um, I think there's been some mistake…” Mickey said. “This isn't my car.”

A Chihuahua barked excitedly from the backseat. “What are you waiting for, Mick? A royal invitation?” JC asked.

“How did you get this?” Mickey asked, climbing inside.

“My next-door neighbor drives for a car service in between acting gigs. He won't tell or charge us, right, Bogart?”

The chauffeur nodded. “It's good acting practice for me anyway—I've never played the role of a chauffeur to a celebrity before.”

When they pulled up in front of FAB, Mickey's heart began to pound. JC ducked down so no one would see him in the limo with her.

“I don't know if I can do this,” she told him.

“You can. Pretend it's a runway. Go out there and strut like a supermodel.”

“These heels are too high. I'm gonna break my neck!” Mickey moaned. “And I feel naked without my moto jacket. Maybe I should go back home and change?”

“Out!” JC insisted. “You got this.”

Mickey took a deep breath as Bogart opened the door to let her out.

“Good luck, Miss Wills,” he said with a wink.

Mickey tried to smile. “Thanks. I'm gonna need it.”

A crowd of students had already gathered around to see who was arriving in a stretch limo. Sewfab.com had already blasted out the news, just as JC had said. Everyone was expecting a grand entrance of someone ultra chic and ultra famous.

Mickey saw Jade and South waiting at the curb. She expected them to snicker or throw something at her when she emerged. Instead, they stared.

As she slowly climbed the steps to the school's main entrance, she tried to make out the whispers.

“That must be her,” said one girl. “I hear she lives in a castle in Finland.”

“She's a gazillionaire,” said another boy. “She's, like, richer than the Kardashians!”

Mickey couldn't believe they were talking about
her
. She was even more shocked when Jade ran up to her at her locker. “You,” she addressed Mickey.

Mickey reminded herself to keep her cool and play her part.

“Me,” she replied simply, grabbing her history textbook.

“Is it true?” Jade continued. “Are you some Finnish fashion princess or something?”

Mickey batted her eyelashes. “I have no idea what you're talking about.
Ahn-tehk-see.
Pardon me.”

“Wait!” Jade called after her. “Was that Finnish? Are you speaking Finnish? So it's true? You're not really a fashion don't? You're a do in disguise?”

Mickey ignored her and walked away, even as Jade was shouting after her, “Hey, wanna sit at my table at lunch?”

JC was right. All it took was “rebranding” herself to make people like her. That and a little white lie or two…

When she took her seat in Apparel Arts, Gabriel pulled his chair closer to hers.

“What happened to you?” he whispered.

Mickey shrugged. “I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about.”

“He means you don't look like a freak anymore,” Mars volunteered.

“Aren't you afraid the paparazzi will stalk you if you're not incognito?” South asked.

“It doesn't bother you, does it?” Mickey asked her. “Your father is famous.”

“But he's a rap singer, not the king of Finland!” Gabriel pointed out. “That's what I heard. Is it true? Are you Princess Mickey?”

Mickey had to giggle. It was amazing how quickly rumors spread and the facts became twisted, like a game of telephone with each person distorting the original message even more.

“It's Kenzie. Not Mickey,” she said. “And I'm not supposed to talk about my personal life.”

“Not even with your friends?” South continued. “You can trust us!”

“
Ahn-tehk-see
,” Mickey said with a sigh. “I'm sorry. Rules are rules.”

Even Mr. Kaye looked shocked when he walked in and spied Mickey's style transformation.

“Miss Williams?” he asked, putting his glasses on to get a better look. “I didn't recognize you.”

Mickey hoped her teacher wasn't disappointed—he was the one who loved her creativity, and now she looked like just another Jade wannabe. “I just thought it was time for a change,” she tried to explain. “Time to show everyone the real me, Kenzie Wills.”

Mr. Kaye raised an eyebrow. “And you're sure this is the
real
you?”

Mickey nodded. “Uh-huh. I think so.”

“Then you should appreciate your next fashion challenge assignment.” He walked to the SMART Board and drew a 2 on it.

“Oh boy. Here it comes.” Gabriel groaned.

“The theme is ‘Everything Old Is New Again.' I would like you to take an item of clothing from another era and rework it so it feels fresh and modern.”

“Where do we get the old outfit?” South asked.

“That's part of the challenge,” their teacher explained. “Finding your inspiration.”

For Mickey, the answer was simple: the flea market she and her mom loved to browse on Sunday mornings would have tons of vintage clothes.

“Your budget is twenty dollars. Good luck and good designing!”

• • •

At lunch, Jade practically threw her brother on the floor to make room next to her for Mickey.

“Sit here,” she ushered her over. “It's the fashionista table.”

Mickey slid in beside her and nibbled on her salad.

“So, what's Finnish Fashion Week like?” Jade asked her. “I go to Paris, Barcelona, and Milan every year with my mother, but I've never been to Finland.”

“Oh, you know. Runways, supermodels, queens and kings and stuff,” Mickey said, pretending to yawn. “It's rather boring.”

“Boring?” South gasped. “It sounds awesome. Can I go with you next time?”

Jade kicked her under the table.

“Ow!” South yelped. “You stabbed me with your stiletto!”

“If Kenzie is going to take anyone with her to Finnish Fashion Week, it's me,” Jade said. “After all, fashion royalty should stick together, agreed?”

Mickey had to think fast. “Um, sorry. My dad has a very large staff and a very small private jet. No room for any extras on the flight to Helsinki.”

“Oh! That's okay,” Jade volunteered. “My mom has her own private jet too. I could just meet you there. Save me a seat in the front row?”

Mickey looked over at JC, who was sitting with Gabriel at another table. “Help me!” she mouthed.

“So, Kenzie,” Jade said, putting an arm around her shoulder. “My mother is having a small get-together at her Madison Avenue boutique tomorrow night for a few VIP clients. I'd love for you to come. What do you say?”

Mickey couldn't believe it! She was invited to an exclusive Bridget Lee party! But she'd promised her mom she'd come home to Philly for the weekend.

“I'd love to, but unfortunately, I have to hit the thrift shops and flea markets,” Mickey said.

Jade's cheeks flushed red. “You what? Are you turning me down? To go shopping at Goodwill?”

“Sis, you've been dissed!” Jake chuckled. “Nice one, Kenzie!”

Mickey tried to backpedal. “No! I'm not dissing you, Jade. Really! I have this Apparel Arts assignment, and we're suppose to turn something old into something new and fab.”

Jade's face softened. “Well, why didn't you say so? I know this amazing little resale shop down in the Village that has vintage Chanel, Gucci, Pucci. I'll take you there Saturday morning!”

Mickey tried to smile. How was she going to explain breaking her promise to her mom and Annabelle this weekend? And how was she ever going to keep up this masquerade?