“… Melody Bairnes,” Marigold finished. Who on earth was Melody Bairnes?
A girl with perfect golden hair jumped up from the row behind me and ran to the stage. She took the trophy and made some speech about thanking the entire world and everyone in it.
We lost.
The reality came tumbling down like a wall full of heavy bricks. My mom was right, I shouldn’t have expected anything more. Girls like me rarely got to have their dreams come true. It was the golden haired perfect girls with money that won competitions and had things go right for them.
I couldn’t sit there any longer. Everyone was leaving anyway so I hurried back to our dress. Where, I had to admit, that darn extra ruffle looked really cute. I wanted to tear it off.
“Truly, I’m really sorry.” The voice came from behind, but I knew it was Jane’s. I looked around, she was crying just as much as I was. “I shouldn’t have made the changes without asking you first. I’m so, so sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have exploded like that. The ruffle is nice,” I sobbed back. We stood there staring at each other like blubbering fools for a moment.
In the next minute, we were hugging. It was in that second that I realized Jane had wanted this as much as I had. The tears weren’t fake, they were all real and reflected all my own disappointments.
And she was holding me so tight I couldn’t breathe.
I wrangled myself out of her grip. “We should probably pack up before they kick us out of here.”
We started to put away all the things we had brought in case something went wrong with the dress, not to mention all the accessories I thought might complement the outfit. It turned out we brought way too much junk with us.
Considering my dreams were crushed and I would probably end up working as a checkout chick for the rest of my life, I was amazed I could even still function. The thought of going home and telling my mom she was right about me wasn’t a happy prospect.
I didn’t see Marigold before she spoke, giving me a heart attack. “Girls, I’m glad you’re still here.”
Spinning around to face her, I instantly wondered what we had done wrong. “Did we have to sign some paperwork or something?”
“No, no, it’s all in order. I just wanted to say how impressed I was with your entry. If I had got my way, you would have won.”
Did I hit my head and stumble into the world of bizarre? Perhaps I had somehow been run over and didn’t realize it? I was too afraid to talk in case it would break the spell and I would realize I was standing naked in the middle of the supermarket.
Jane apparently wasn’t under the same enchantment. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you to say.”
“Oh, I’m not just saying it, I mean it. You should stick to it.”
“Truly has, like, a million other designs too. They’re really good,” Jane said. Again making me wonder what kind of drugs had been slipped into my drink.
Marigold nodded, a smile plastered onto her face. “I would like to see them. Do you have any with you?”
I still couldn’t move, I may as well have been one of those stupid mannequins holding up the dresses. They both stared at me, waiting for me to get out my sketchbook.
Jane finally gave up and reached into my bag herself. She pulled out the most important thing I owned and handed it to Marigold. The designer flipped through the pages with an expression I couldn’t read.
I was about to throw up. Because Marigold knew what she was talking about and she would hate my designs. I mean, she was a professional, she would be able to see how amateur and childish my designs were. Seriously. Any minute now I would have my dreams crushed for the second time that day.
It wouldn’t have been the first time.
Marigold stopped at a dress. “This is similar to your competition entry.”
I should probably say something before they called the men in white coats to come collect me. “It was the original design we worked from.”
“But it’s been changed,” she pointed out. Why did she have to notice? “You’ve added these embellishments and ruffle to the final version.”
“That was her idea,” I said quickly, pointing an accusing finger at Jane. She pretended to look at the ceiling to avoid my gaze.
“Well, it certainly has completed the dress,” Marigold concluded. “You two make a great team. I’m sure there is a bright future ahead for you both.”
“Uh, a great team?” I muttered, because surely I had heard wrong. “We do nothing but argue most of the time.” Jane shot me a warning look but didn’t say anything.
“Yes, a team. Some of the greatest fashion houses have been born out of a partnership between two friends. Trust me, you’re onto a wonderful thing.” Color me speechless. “If you don’t mind, I would like to look at these designs in more detail and when I have more time. Would you mind coming by my studio next week?”
“Um, yeah, sure.” Was I speaking English? I think I was, but my brain was too addled to think straight.
Marigold gave me her business card and told me to make an appointment before we dropped by with my sketchbook. She insisted we both had to come, considering we were a team and all.
Packing up didn’t seem so bad after that. The last thing we put away was the dress and Jane was given the task of taking that home – she was the responsible one after all. I was likely to get it crushed on the bus.
I got home after dark but in time for dinner. I wished I could tell my mom I had won. It would have been really nice to have her look at me proudly like I’d seen moms do on television.
“We didn’t win,” I said, may as well get it over and done with.
“Oh, Tru honey, I’m sorry. Did you have a good time anyway?” She slopped some mashed potatoes on a plate for me.
“It was okay. The best part came afterwards though. One of the judges wants to see more of my designs. She thinks they’re really good.”
“That’s good, sweetie,” she replied. She wasn’t paying me any real attention. I guess with all my siblings to take care of, she had enough on her plate.
I didn’t mention it again. It was stupid anyway. Marigold was a huge designer, she was probably just being nice to me seeing as though we were the big losers and all. She probably asked a lot of the competitors about their designs.
CHAPTER 11