Gorgeous by Rachel Vail Page B

didn’t exactly work out. Phoebe had taken my flip-flops again over the weekend and I had to scrape the muck off them before I could wear them, and then our toaster was freaking out as usual (our appliances have way too much personality), and by the time I was in a sweat and dashing out the door, Quinn was right by my side.
    So I decided, as we approached the mailbox, to just be casual. “Oh, Dad asked me to mail this,” I said, as if, What a pain but no big deal, waving the letter carelessly but quickly so she couldn’t read the address. I opened the mailbox door and, as it creaked, flipped the envelope onto it, facedown, and let go fast.
    Only, Quinn’s hand was on it, holding it open. With her other hand she lifted the letter off. The mailbox creaked shut.
    “What is it?”
    “How should I know?” I said, a little too high.
    “You addressed the envelope,” Quinn said, showing it to me.
    I raised my eyebrows.
    “So…?”
    “It’s a subscription, if you must know,” I lied. “I just decided I need to learn more about, well, fashion. And celebrities. And how to do my makeup. You know. I know I’ve always made fun of those stupid magazines, so I’m a little embarrassed and didn’t want you to know, but…”
    “It doesn’t say Subscription Department ,” Quinn pointed out. “It says The New Teen Contest .”
    “Um,” I said. “We’re gonna miss the bus if we don’t hurry.”
    “Tell me what this is,” Quinn said in her slow, slow way, “or I will rip it open and see for myself.”
    She lifted her other hand and was starting to rip when I caved.
    “Okay, okay. I’ll tell you.” She froze, waiting to see if I really would tell. “It’s that thing I went to with Roxie. They chose me.”
    “As what?” Quinn asked.
    “As a security guard,” I said. “What do you think? As a semifinalist.”
    “Seriously?”
    “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
    “No, it’s not…I mean, you’re gorgeous, everybody knows that; it’s just—”
    I had to blink away a surprise tear. “No, I’m not!” I yelled. “Stop mocking me!”
    “I’m totally not, Allison,” Quinn said. “You’re mad beautiful. I mean, you were kind of a weird-looking kid, but you’re really coming into yourself these days.”
    I sniffled and punched her shoulder. “Great, thanks.”
    “I’m just saying, what did Mom and Dad say? How did you explain it to them?”
    “I haven’t yet.”
    We heard the bus rumbling half a block away.
    “So what is this?” Quinn asked.
    “I just had to fill out a form with my information,” I told her half truthfully. “The last thing Mom and Dad need right now is to worry about me, right? It’s meaningless. The other girls are all probably, like, professional models. The most that could happen is what? I get a certificate for being a semifinalist?”
    “So then why are you doing it?” Quinn asked.
    The tears welling up in my eyes caught us both by surprise when I answered, truthfully for once, “Because I never get the certificate.”
    “Oh, Allison,” Quinn said, softening.
    “You have no idea how that feels, Quinn.” I sniffed hard and collected myself. “Can you put it in the mailbox so we don’t miss the bus, please? I really don’t want to push my luck and be late.”
    Quinn frowned. She has never been late in her life. She sighed and opened the mailbox. Before she placed the envelope in, though, she lifted it to her lips and kissed it. “For luck,” she whispered.
    “Thanks,” I managed, and then we sprinted toward the bus together.
    It wasn’t until Jade and Serena were on their way onto the bus at the next stop that I realized I was going to have to come up with something to tell them about why I wouldn’t be going with them to Tennis Europe. It hit me that I should’ve come up with a story ahead of time, but honestly, how much deception can I be expected to plan in one night?
    Jade must have seen my face looking shocked, because her face morphed from her