Free Vanessa's Fashion Face-Off by Jo Whittemore

sun.
    â€œPerfect!” He took the shot. “Tim, show me what a real guy is all about.”
    I expected Tim to roll his eyes and make a silly pose, but he sat tall and tilted his chin up, no nonsense.
    Click! Stefan moved on. “Brooke, sporty yet sweet, make it happen!”
    This time, Brooke didn’t laugh but laced her hands in front of her and grinned.
    Click! Stefan turned to me. “Vanessa, where’s your inner diva?”
    Now, I wanted to roll my eyes, but instead I gave the camera a knowing smirk.
    Click! Stefan passed the camera to Gil. “There you go, bro. Catch you guys later!”
    â€œLater!” Heather called after him in a soft voice. When she turned back to us, she was glowing again. “Isn’t he great?”
    â€œYeah, awesome.” I glanced at Gil. His dimples had vanished, and he was clutching the camera against him. “Hey, Gil, can we preview those?”
    â€œUh . . . sure.” He held the camera out so we could see. All my friends marveled over the images, but to me, they were just okay.
    â€œWhat do you think?” asked Gil.
    I shrugged. “They’ll do, I guess. Listen, can you help me with something?”
    â€œAre you sure Stefan wouldn’t do a better job?” he asked with a half smile.
    â€œNo.” I looked him in the eye. “I don’t want his help. I want someone who has talent to help me.”
    And just like that, the dimples reappeared.

CHAPTER
6
No Big Deal
    O n Thursday afternoon, Brooke’s mom picked up her, Heather, and me from school and dropped us off at Miss Lillian’s. As soon as Brooke rang the doorbell, there was the scuttle of tiny paws and a whining bark on the other side of the door.
    â€œHi, Rocket!” Brooke spoke through the door to Miss Lillian’s bull terrier, who whined some more.
    â€œWho’s here to see us?” I could hear Miss Lillian ask Rocket in a baby voice. She unlatched the door and smiled at me and my friends. “Comein, girls, come in! Let me take your coats.” She held out her arms, and we weighed them down with our jackets. “Would you like a snack before we get started? I’ve got pumpkin muffins and hot chocolate.”
    Brooke’s eyes lit up. “Of course!”
    So much for healthy alternatives.
    As we sat in Miss Lillian’s living room with our muffins and cocoa, she explained the basics of successful showmanship.
    â€œConfidence is key,” she said, pacing in front of us. “Even if you don’t know an answer, you hold your head high, look the interviewer in the eye, and fake it the best you know how.” She stopped in front of Brooke. “Ask me something about soccer, dear.”
    Brooke chewed her muffin and thought. “What’s a red flag?”
    Miss Lillian looked Brooke in the eye. “Oh, a red flag is a terrible thing. A player wants toavoid seeing a red flag at all costs.”
    Brooke smiled. “That’s pretty good!”
    â€œNote that while I know nothing about red flags related to soccer, I know enough about the symbol of a red flag to know it’s a bad thing,” Miss Lillian told all of us. “Try to relate the question to something you know.” She stopped in front of me. “Vanessa, let’s have you give it a go. Tell me your thoughts on clothing that incites violence. Like the Zoot Suit Riots.”
    I stared at her, wide-eyed. I knew what a zoot suit was. They were oversize suits with baggy coats and wide-legged pants. My great-grandpa had worn one in the forties, and my grandma even had a photo of her sitting on his knee while he was wearing one. To me, the zoot suit looked ridiculous, but I didn’t know why it’d have anything to do with riots.
    â€œUm . . . sometimes fashion is so terrible, people fight to get rid of it?” I guessed. “But peopleshould know that everything eventually goes out of style.” I cocked my head to one side.