Summer Time Blues pt 2
“Wait here.” The woman turned to a smaller table behind her, walked to a box marked N-R, and flipped through it until she found a Kitty name on a large card. “You’ll be number 34,” she handed the stickers to the sophomore. “Put one on your back and one on your front so the judges can see them. Please wait in the back of the stage for further directions.” Kitty grabbed the labels and stepped aside for Jean to get her number.
Soon they were in the back. Jean helped Kitty put the number 34 on her back then Kitty stuck number 37 on Jean’s back. “This is it. No turning back,” haunted Jean as she got in Kitty’s face.
*~*
Rogue wriggled in the hard folding chair, trying to get comfortable. The loud dance-mix music pounded on her eardrums, doing its utmost to bring on a headache. Of all the boring things she’d ever sat through, American Girls modeling contest was threatening to last the longest.
One by one, the contestants came to the stage as their numbers were called. Then they walked to the end of the runway, posed, turned, and walked back again. Each girl got only twenty or thirty seconds- there were just so many of them.
“Now Ah know what they mean by a cattle call,” Rogue told Alexya, leaning close to be heard over the music. “This thing is endless.”
Alexya shook her head. “You’re not kidding! I don’t even know how they’re going to pick someone. Everyone’s starting to look the same.”
It was true. After about the first twenty, Rogue’s mind had glazed over. All those blue shirts and blue jeans didn’t help, she thought. It was liking watching a clone festival.
“Number 34- Katherine Pryde,” the announce spoke over the music.
“Go Kitty!” Alexya screamed.
Rogue glanced up to Kitty already on stage, walking toward the runway with still, frightened steps. “Yeah Kitty!” Rogue cheered.
Kitty looked cute in her flared dark blue jeans and a cropped blue shirt that barely showed her stomach. Unfortunately, she also looked scared to death. She walked mechanically to the end of the runway, a wooden statement on her face, then seemed to remember to smile. When she tried, however, her terrified attempt looked more like a grimace. She turned and walked away more smoothly, her tight jeans emphasizing her slender figure, but Rogue already knew she wouldn’t win.
Poor Kitty, Rogue thought, feeling genuinely sorry for her. After all, it took a lot of courage to enter the contest and further more, pose for the judges. She was think enough, she had those stocking hazel eyes... She just didn’t have any presence, or poise, or whatever it was that made people sit up and take notice. Kitty had come and gone without a ripple. The next girl was on stage already then the next. It was as if Kitty had never been there.
“Number 37- Jean Grey,” droned the announcer.
“Go Jean!” Rogue and Alexya called automatically.
Jean bounded through the backstage curtain, throwing the fabric wide, where the other girls had slipped demurely through the opening. She headed straight for the runway, her head held high. In contrast to the other contestants, her clothes were casual, not to impress and she was wearing almost no makeup. Her long red hair swung rhythmically across her back as she walked, completely free of barrettes, bandannas, or other look-at-me accessories. She hadn’t changed a single thing to cater to the judges.
She hit the runway confidently, even defiantly, taking long, sure strides on the polished wood. Her green eyes gazed out over the head of the crowd, her full lips curving slightly, s if she knew a joke she wasn’t going to tell. Rogue felt herself sitting up in her chair. Whatever indefinable quality had been lacked in Kitty, Jean had enough for both of them.
“Oh, my! She’s good!” Rogue said, staring at this completely unexpected new Jean.
“She knows how to work an attitude, that’s for sure,” Alexya agreed. “I’ve never seen anyone look less like that cared in my life.”
“Jean didn’t care about the contest, remember? She said it was just for fun.”
“Whatever. It’s working.”
And Rogue and Alexya weren’t the only ones who thought so. All over the audience, people were sitting straighter in their chairs, talking to each other. A small group of local guys catcalled loudly, and there was even a spontaneous scattering of applause from the otherwise sleepy crowd.
Jean acted as if none of it mattered. She reached the end, stopped and glanced at the judges, then turned and strode off like a woman with somewhere to go. She pushed back through the curtains without the slightest break in momentum.
“Number 38-” Even the announcer sounds a little more awake.
Alexya shook her head, her usually mysterious eyes full of admiration. “I’m glad I’m not going onstage after that.”
*~*
Jean trotted down the short, wobbly staircase at the back of the makeshift stage, relieved that her turn was over.
“How did you do?” Kitty asked anxiously as Jean reached the firm ground. “How did it go?”
Jean shrugged. “I walked to the end. I walked back. Not much to it.”
“Jean!” Kitty protested, obviously wanted details. “I was so terrified I thought I’d pass out. Weren’t you scared?”
“Well... not really.” Jean didn’t want to hurt Kitty’s feelings, but she went to have fun and didn’t care about the contest all together. Jean smiled, slightly slugging Kitty in the shoulder.
“I wish I could’ve seen you walk,” Kitty said. “I couldn’t see anything down here.”
“I know. I couldn’t see you, either. So... hey,” Jean soothed, putting an arm around her. “Stuff like that happens to everyone. Besides, I’ll bet you did better than you think.
“Like really?” Kitty asked, looking at her hopefully.
“Sure. Let’s go find Rogue and Alexya. I’m starving.”
“We’re suppose to stay back here until they announce the winner,” Kitty reminded her. The contestants were confined to a large, robed off area.
Jean stifled a groan, placing her hand on her flat stomach. “I knew I should’ve ate breakfast before we came.” They stood there a little bit longer when a beautiful young girl walked up to Jean.
“I was right behind you onstage,” she told Jean coldly. “Thanks for ruining my confidence.”
“Wh- What?” Jean stammered.
The girl broke into a friendly smile, her perfect white teeth contrasting with the flawless brown skin. “Just kidding. You were great.” She smiled wider.
“Me?” Jean didn’t what to say. “Uh, thanks.”
“How long have you been modeling?” the other girl asked.
“Me? Oh, no. I’ve never modeled. This is a first.”
The girl raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’ve modeled a lot, and you could have fooled me. Good luck, all right?”
“Yeah, you too,” Jean said. The other girl walked away.
“Jean!” Kitty burst out immediately. “Aren’t you excited?”
Not really, Lean thought, forcing herself not to look at her wristwatch.
At last the line of contestants dwindled down to one left. The audience applauded that sounded more relieved that enthusiastic. Jean started sliding along the back of the crowd, still leaning on the railing. She wanted to be close to the exit as possible.
“Ladies and gentlemen! On behalf of the American Girls clothing company, it give me great pleasure to announce our winner, who, in addition to taking the title here today, will receive an all-expenses-paid trip for four to compete in our national finals in Hollywood, California.”
A hush fell over the crowd.
“Won’t you put your hands together,” the announcer continued,” for one of hottest, one of freshest, new faces we’ve seen this season? Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for New York’s newest American Girls- Miss Jean Grey!”
*~*
“I’m really sorry Kitty,” Jean apologized again in the car on the long drive home. “I never dreamed I might actually win.”
Kitty took her eyes off the road long enough to glance at Jean’s two dozen red and white roses, tied with a wide blue ribbon. She still couldn’t believe Jean actually won. She thought she had a chance. There was no denying she felt defeated.
“Like, I’m really proud of you Jean. This is really exciting, you know?” Kitty fidgeted with the fifty dollar gift certificate the judges passed out to the other forty-nine contestants.
“Well, thanks.”
“Hey it took a lot of courage just to get your butt up there!” Alexya threw in. “I’m sure to many, you’re all winners!”
“Really you deserved it, Jean.” Rogue leaned forward. “When they called your name, you came out like you owned the world or something. Ah was really surprised.”
“It was nothing, really.” Jean adjusted the rearview mirror. “I mainly entered to get that scholarship they were offering at California.”
“Well, you got more,” Alexya lightly punched Jean.
Jean looked at Kitty, who still folded and fidgeted with her check. More then I wanted, she thought, picking up speed.