Girls Only! (22 page)

Somehow, Heather made it through her morning ice session. But she was really beginning to drag as she sat on the bench to remove her skates. Kevin waited around for her, leaning on the barrier. He was obviously impatient, too, by the way he shuffled about. But he didn’t bring up anything troublesome, and she was glad.

The walk home seemed longer than usual. Heather’s legs felt more like rubber than flesh and bone and muscle. Mom hadn’t accompanied them to the early-morning session. Often, she let them walk to and from. Today, though, Heather wished her mother had driven them.

“What’s wrong with you?” Kevin asked.

“Nothing.”

“Anyone can see you’re worn out,” he persisted.

She sighed. Her brother didn’t need to know that she’d been up prowling around the kitchen for something to eat so late in the night. “I’m fine,” she insisted.

“Say what you like. I can see you’re exhausted.”

“Why don’t you just . . . leave me alone?”

“Oh yeah, sure . . . that’s a great suggestion.” He paused as they walked in silence. Then—“So is it really none of my business that my skating partner is falling off balance and skating way under her ability today?”

He had her. She scuffed her feet against the sidewalk, saying nothing.

“Look, Heather, if you have to go on some stupid crash course, or whatever it is you’re doing to your body, I think you’d better bounce it off me first. Okay?”

“Says who?”

“Coach, for one . . . and Mom and Dad, too, since they’re paying big bucks for our training. In case you forgot. They’re behind us all the way, helping us push ourselves ahead to our goal.” He stopped and turned to look at her. “It
is
still your goal, right?”

“To get to Junior Olympics, sure.” There was no question in her mind.

“Then, how about if you start eating?”

They began walking again. This time, she forged ahead, leaving her brother behind.

“Aw, don’t do this,” Kevin called to her.

“Don’t do
what
—walk faster than you?” She didn’t even stop to glance over her shoulder. She was losing it faster than her own stride.

“Your head’s jumbled,” he said flatly.

That got her attention. She turned and waited for him. “Since when is it fair for you to call all the shots for us?”

“It’s fair only when I see my sister doing harm to herself.” He sighed loudly. “I wish I knew what was bugging you.”

“Whatever.” She turned away.

“No, Heather, I mean it.” Kevin reached and grabbed her arm. “You’re not heavy, if that’s what you think.” His eyes were kind. He
was
concerned.

“We’re not having this conversation.” And that was the end of it.

Weary before the day had scarcely begun, she mustered up enough energy to run ahead of him. At her side, her skates flip-flopped nearly out of control as she attempted to steady them.

Photo Perfect

Chapter Eleven

“I don’t feel well,” she admitted to her mother during a short break in the history unit that afternoon.

Mom had been talking with two other students, slightly older than Heather. Two boys from their church were also homeschooled. Kevin was hanging around with them, deciding what essays to write. “A discussion on the balance of power would be great,” one of the other boys suggested.

Kevin seemed to like the idea. Heather could tell by his wide, bright eyes. She, on the other hand, could scarcely stand up. She’d pushed herself this far through, but now felt so tired she just wanted to put her head down on the table and give in to sleep.

Mom looked at her over her glasses. “Are you ill or just tired?”

She wanted to say “both,” but that wasn’t true. Fact was, she was dog tired. Her own fault. “I’m really wiped out,” she said.

“Well, why don’t you sit on the couch to do some reading?” Mom suggested.

What she really wanted was to go to her room and lie down there in the quiet. Why hadn’t she gone to bed earlier last night? But she knew the answer. The truth was, she’d denied herself food and paid the price—much to the anger of her skating partner and older brother. How was she going to get down to nothing with Kevin hounding her?

She carried her books to the living room, as Mom recommended. Getting settled into the cushions, she knew right off this was a mistake. The sofa was far too comfortable, and the movement of her eyes on the page only served to make her sleepier. Almost before she knew it, she was sound asleep.

But in her dreams, she was light as a feather. She was also hungry, the empty feeling in her stomach exaggerated. As the dream progressed, she realized that she was beginning to get hooked on the hunger pangs. The feeling was actually enticing, something she liked. Somehow, though, she could sense that her family and friends, and even the Girls Only Club members, were afraid for her. But that, of course, was only in her dream.

When she awakened, the other kids had left. Mom, Joanne, and Tommy were doing an art project at the dining-room table. “Where’s Kevin?” she asked.

“Lifting weights,” said Mom. “Want to join him?”

“Too tired.” She headed toward the stairs.

“School’s not finished for the day,” Mom said suddenly.

Returning, Heather asked, “What’s next?”

It was clear that Mom was displeased. “Well, if you’re too tired to do your schoolwork, then you must certainly be too tired to attend ballet class . . . and later, your Girls Only Club.”

Mom was smart that way. She had her coming and going. Without saying more, Heather waited for her next assignment—a writing project—from her teacher-mother. She shouldn’t have been too surprised at her own usually tenacious spirit. It was obvious she’d inherited persistence from Guess Who.

Heather yanked on the locker-room door at Natalie’s Ballet School. Rushing inside, she was eager to get ballet class over for the day. Livvy and the other girls were already dressed and chattering at one of the mirrors, looking at something posted on the wall.

She couldn’t care less. Not the way she felt at the moment. She wandered over to her own small locker, worked the combination lock, and pulled it open. Inside the locker door, smiling Russian ice dancers taunted her. Yet she knew better than to feel upset about the poster. After all, she’d searched high and low for the fantastic picture of ice dancers Pasha Grishuk and Evgeny Platov. She knew the grueling schedule and dietary provisions these superior skaters certainly must have adhered to, to get what they wanted. To reach their goals and dreams.

She found herself staring at them, wishing she could speak their language. Wishing she could get a grip on her life as a great skater . . .

Just then, Jenna and Manda came dashing over to her. “Have you heard?” Jenna said.

Still almost in a daze, she turned slowly. “Heard what?”

“Newman’s department store is hosting a modeling agency,” Jenna said.

Manda’s eyes were absolutely twinkling. “They’re interviewing prospective models next Wednesday.”

Livvy wandered over to join them. “Yeah, but it’s too bad.”

“What do you mean?” asked Heather.

“None of us has any extra time,” Livvy said glumly.

Jenna nodded, too, as if reality were sinking in. “True.”

“Wait a minute,” Heather said. “How’d you hear about this?”

Manda pointed to the poster near the mirror, across the locker room. “Check it out for yourself.”

“I will!” And she charged off, feeling an unexpected surge of energy.

She scanned the ad with her eyes. It was
very
interesting. She read every word carefully. There were going to be agency directors flying in from New York City next week. They would look at portfolios—
no problem
, she thought—as well as narrow down the number of contestants. Whoever made the final cut was offered a modeling contract.

“Is it runway modeling, commercial, or catalogs?” she asked the others.

“Probably any of that, if you’re good enough,” Jenna said. “But it clearly says they train you, teach you everything you need to know. Even set up appointments for your work.”

“But only if you have the look they want,” Manda added.

The look . . .

She wondered what that might be. If they meant the hollowed-out look, like the young models in her teen magazine at home, she thought she could pull
that
off by Wednesday. Less than a week away, she could maybe do it if she went without eating between now and then. Yes, that’s what she’d do.

“I think I’ll show up and see what it’s all about,” she said.

Livvy wrinkled up her nose. “You’re kidding, right?”

She whirled around, bending and limbering up. “This is just what I’ve been waiting for.”

Jenna and Manda exchanged glances. “How come you’ve never said anything to us about modeling before?” Jenna asked.

“Maybe you weren’t listening.”

“But we hang at Girls Only together, and never once have you said anything.” Jenna was unwavering.

“Guess I don’t say everything I’m thinking.” Heather shrugged it off.

Livvy frowned. “What about your summer ice event, Heather? How will you place there if you’re attending modeling classes or whatever?”

“Not
classes
.” She spun around. “Didn’t you read the ad? They find you
work
.”

Manda joined her in bending and warming up. “I’d rather keep focused on one thing at a time. Life gets less complicated that way.”

“Yeah, one thing at a time,” Jenna echoed.

Livvy suggested they go to the barre and get ready for class. “Modeling’s not for me, I can tell you that right now.”

Heather was surprised—that comment coming from beautiful Livvy. “How will you know if you don’t try out?”

Livvy shook her head. “I don’t have the look they want, I’m sure of it.”

Jenna grinned. “But maybe Heather does.”

Heather wondered what Jenna meant by that. “Which means?”

“It’s just that you’re so tiny . . . the way they like models to be,” Jenna replied.

Heather knew she probably wasn’t even close to being tall enough. Models that made it big were usually close to six feet tall. Never much shorter. There was no chance she’d grow that much in a few days.

“Personally, I think it’s silly,” Manda said.

Think what you want
, Heather decided.

“The four of us have athletic goals, in case you forgot,” Jenna joined in the chorus.

“Who said anything about giving up goals?” she asked.

Jenna shot her a weird look. “Well, what will Kevin say?”

She should’ve known that was coming. Her girl friends always cared too much about what Kevin thought about everything. “My brother has nothing to say about it.”

“But he’s the other half of your skating partnership,” Livvy said softly. “Doesn’t that count for something?”

Of course it counted. She knew it did. But Heather was feeling just stubborn enough to stand firm in her quest. “Everyone, just back off.”

“Fine,” said Manda, pouting.

“It’s time for ballet, besides,” said Jenna, turning to go.

Livvy gave Heather a puzzled look but kept quiet.

When Natalie called for centerwork, Heather was glad. What did Manda, Jenna, and Livvy know about anything, anyway?

Photo Perfect

Chapter Twelve

At home, Heather stayed in the shower much longer than usual, trying to rinse away the memory of her girl friends’ stinging remarks. So what if they weren’t interested in showing up for the modeling try-outs. Who cared what
they
thought?

Lathering up for the second time, she remembered how outspoken Livvy had been. Livvy Hudson, typically sweet and considerate, had been downright direct. What had come over her? Was it that she was really interested but knew she couldn’t honestly take on one more event in her week? Was that it? Or was there more to it?

Livvy and her father barely made ends meet sometimes. That was partly the reason for Livvy’s grandmother coming to live with them.
“Out of necessity,”
Livvy had said early in the year.

Of course, Heather wouldn’t be rude and bring up such a thing. But she suspected that to be the reason behind Livvy’s disinterest. What else?

Manda and Jenna had been equally hostile. Well, maybe hostile was stating it a little strongly. But they
were
defensive. Drying her hair, Heather wondered why.

In her room, she chose a soft blue warm-up suit to wear to Jenna’s house. Girls Only Club meetings were some of the best times of each week. It was fun to wear something comfortable. Sometimes, they worked together to come up with new ballet routines.

Today she was eager to see how many healthy recipes had been gathered since last Friday. Livvy’s idea of a cookbook was really a terrific one. They could sell lots of copies at church and around the neighborhood. Another good place to market them was the homeschooling network in town. Mom knew all sorts of folks devoted to home teaching. Families who might appreciate a cool cookbook like theirs.

When she headed to the basement, Heather found Kevin playing with Tommy. “Where’s Mom?” she asked.

“She ran an errand,” Kevin said, looking up. “Where are you headed?”

“If it’s Friday, it must be Girls Only,” she taunted him.

“Oh yeah.” There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You’re making a cookbook to raise money . . . for what?”

She wouldn’t go there. It was a setup. She could see it on her brother’s face. “Never mind.”

He shook his head. “You know, it’s kinda hard to overlook something so completely ridiculous,” he muttered. “You’ve quit eating, but you’re putting together a cookbook. How does that make any sense?”

“Oh, what do
you
know?” she said under her breath.

He stood tall just then, grabbing Tommy and swinging him around the room. Tommy let out a few screams of delight. “Faster . . . swing me faster,” their younger brother hollered.

“Stop it!” Heather shouted. “Just stop it.”

Kevin slowed Tommy down and stopped. He frowned. “Relax, Heather. Nobody’s out of control here.”

No one except me
, she thought.

Heather was the first to arrive at the Songs’ home. Jenna Song was lying on her bed, talking to her furry feline, Sasha, high in her attic bedroom. The room was the largest bedroom Heather had seen in her life. When Jenna and her family moved to Alpine Lake last fall, they’d knocked out a wall in order to make the upstairs room a combination bedroom and ballet practice area. The only thing the room lacked was a hardwood floor for full-blown dances.