Fast-Tracked by Tracy Rozzlynn Page A

she had a better chance of hell freezing over than impressing Mrs. Glabough .
    I was dumbfounded by their interpretation of the day’s lecture. Was I so jaded by Byron’s fate that I heard different words? Or were the other girls so desperate to hold onto their wonderful futures that they had warped the words they heard to fit their own delusions? But it was five girls against one, so I guess it was just me.
     
    Before bed, I tried to get some time alone with Trisha. I felt bad for the way Mrs. Glabough has been treating her. She couldn’t help what status her parents had been. But I also had an ulterior motive. As a brown level, she was the closet to Byron’s new status. I hoped she could shed some light on what his new life would be like, and maybe reassure me that it wouldn’t be all that bad.
    Unfortunately, her former status made her sensitive. She thought I was trying to mock her with my questions. Instead of getting answers I had already made an enemy. She stormed away from me and for the rest of the evening she refused to even look in my direction.
    The next morning Mrs. Glabough announced that we were heading out. She led us to the Salon d’Artiste . She must have booked out the entire salon, because there wasn’t another customer in sight – but there were plenty of attendants who immediately began stripping us down in the middle of the salon floor.
    “I’m perfectly capable of undressing myself,” I snapped as I slapped unwelcome hands away from me. I couldn’t believe their audacity and indifference to common modesty. “I prefer a bit of privacy. I don’t make a habit of baring myself to complete and total strangers.” I didn’t even bother to hide the disdain in my voice.
    “Odin. Remy.” Mrs. Glabough snapped her fingers. “I want you to personally supervise Miss Zandria’s makeover today. Make sure she’s treated like the lady we know she is.”
    They both gave Mrs. Glabough a nod that resembled a bow and motioned for me to follow. Nervously I obeyed, but I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of trouble my big mouth had gotten me into.
    I was pleasantly surprised when they led me to a curtained changing room and handed me a fluffy white robe to change into. After changing they led me to the heavily perfumed showers. I watched as the other girls were roughly handled by attendants that scrubbed and rinsed them clean. But Odin and Remy simply pointed the shampoos out to me and advised me how, where, and when to use each one.
    After showering, I dried and wrapped myself in another fluffy robe. Odin and Remy led me to a room where I was given a facial, manicure and pedicure simultaneously. Then they proceeded to laser every unwanted hair from my body. It stung. I winced.
    “Don’t worry; one time over and you’ll never have to worry about being a furry monkey again.” Remy ran a hand over his perfectly shaved face. Now I knew how Avery had looked so clean shaven. Then I rolled my eyes at being called a monkey.
    Feeling rather sore, I changed into the simple white top and bottoms Remy handed me and followed them to a hairdressing chair.
    Once again, Mrs. Glabough started circling me and scrutinizing me. “Well, first things first, we’ll have chop off all this extra weight, and then we’ll have to do something to liven the color.” I let out an audible huff. Once again she talked as if I wasn’t even there. “I’m thinking maybe this length.” Her hand brushed my shoulder and landed on my neck. That was more than half my hair she wanted to chop off. I couldn’t remember a time when it had ever been above my shoulders.
    “No one is cutting or coloring my hair,” I growled at her.
    Her beady little eyes narrowed on me and the thin line of her smile curled up at the corners. “Odin, why don’t you get Miss Zandria a hot tea. I think she needs to sit and think about what’s best for her for a while.” Her words sounded sweet and kind, but I couldn’t help but feel that there was