Free Mallory and Mary Ann Take New York by Laurie Friedman Page B

…”
    I was going to say that I don’t see how we could figure out something as big as both getting on the show, but Mary Ann stops me. She hooks my pinky in hers and shakes them up and down.
    â€œMallory, don’t worry,” she says. “Everything will work out fine. It always does when we make a pinky swear.”
    I nod. I try to imagine Mary Ann and me in New York. Seeing the sights. Modeling on the
Fashion Fran
show. But it’s hard.
    I know we made a pinky swear. But this time, I’m just not sure that’s going to make everything work out.

I don’t know why I was so worried about what happens if one of us wins the Design Your Dream Outfit contest. So far, it doesn’t look like either one of us is going to win this contest.
    It has been exactly two weeks and four days since Fashion Fran announced her Design Your Dream Outfit contest. For the last two weeks and four days, I have been designing outfits and Mary Ann has been designing outfits.

    We have been working on our designs every afternoon after school and on the weekends. We’ve hardly left my room.
    The problem is … so far, none of our outfits look very dreamy.
    Now it’s crunch time. We only have three days to go before the contest is over.
    I rip a sheet of paper out of the sketch pad I’ve been drawing in and crumple it into a ball. I toss it toward the trash can next to my desk. It misses and lands on my floor, next to the large pile of other wadded-up papers already on my floor.
    Mary Ann leans back against the pillows on my bed and blows a piece of hair off her forehead. She tosses her sketch pad on the ground. “I give up.”
    â€œC’mon. We can’t give up.” I rub my head, which is what I do when I’m doing my most serious thinking. “We need to focus,” I say.
    Mary Ann snorts. “We’ve been focusing. I’m sick of focusing.”
    I pick up her sketch pad and hand it back to her. “Let’s give it one more try. We just need to design the perfect outfit that we both would want to wear.”
    Mary Ann nods like she’ll try, but she’s not as into it as she was two weeks and four days ago.
    I hand her a pencil, and we both flip to clean pages in our sketchbooks.
    I really want to do a good job. I really want to win this contest.
    I draw a model body. Then I put a pair of skinny jeans on the model.
    Mary Ann looks over at my drawing. “Those look good,” she says. She draws a long skirt on her model.
    I don’t love long skirts, but maybe Mary Ann will draw something cute on top.
    â€œYour turn,” she says.
    I look at the jeans I drew. I draw a tunic top with flowing sleeves. I add little bits of lace around the neck and wrists.
    â€œNice!” says Mary Ann. She draws a vest with fringe to go above the skirt.
    â€œLike it?” she asks.
    I purse my lips and rub my head. “I’m not sure I do.”
    I’m trying to decide what it is that I don’t like about it, but Mary Ann waves her hand at me. She doesn’t seem to care if I like it or not. “Keep drawing,” says Mary Ann. I can tell all she wants to do is finish the designs.
    I add an armful of bracelets and a beaded necklace to my drawing.
    Mary Ann adds a studded belt to hers.
    I add some boots.
    Mary Ann adds ballet flats.
    I look at my drawing. I’m really happy with it. I hold it up so Mary Ann can get a good look. “What do you think?” I ask. I wait for Mary Ann to smile and say she loves it.
    But Mary Ann frowns. “I don’t know,” she says. “Something is missing.”

    I study the model I drew. Part of me thinks Mary Ann doesn’t like my drawing because I said I didn’t like hers. But another part of me agrees with her. Something is definitely missing.
    Suddenly I have a great idea. I add a big cowboy hat, oversized sunglasses, and long hair with bangs.
    â€œDoes hair count as part of the