The Other Girl: A Midvale Academy Novel by Sarah Miller Page B

place people bought shit to go out in. I would have thought Pilar would be in her element here, but she was pissed. Pissed and nervous. She watched Madison out of the corner of her eye.
    She better not get a dress here. We have a plan of outfits, and eef she changes it, she is such a …Madison was examining something aqua blue and sheer, and Pilar watched her intently, finally sighing with relief. Thank God, it’s just a camisole. She ees just looking for clothes for general. Not for tonight.
    Madison studied the item with great seriousness until something about it seemed to disappoint her. She scowled and tossed it over a rack. Another salesgirl appeared to clean up her mess. This one had a black pixie cut and wore a long green vintage slip with lace-up Victorian boots. Pilar openly stared at her, and now I was able to follow her mind through its whole process. The face is an eight, the body, well, I can’t see it that well, let’s just geeve it an eight, but style is a ten. Great vintage Celine boots. Beautiful redglass earrings. Pilar multiplied the face number, eight, by three; the body number, eight, by two; and the style number, ten, remained on its own. She added these numbers together, divided by three, and came up with the number sixteen and two thirds, which she rounded up to seventeen.
    It was this number that led Pilar to the decision that this girl was 78 percent as hot as she was.
    Gid was always saying there was more to Pilar than meets the eye, but I had always suspected she mostly occupied herself with checking out other girls and thinking how much hotter she was than they were.
    I had never imagined she had an actual formula for this. And I couldn’t help but wonder, what number would she assign to me?
    Pilar continued to walk around the dress boutique with that slow, contemplative walk most people use in museums. Other than her and Madison, there were four of five other young women shopping, all in varying uniforms of tight jeans, tight T-shirts, and high heels, all keeping a respectful distance from one another so as not to interfere with this holy business of shopping. I don’t think I am exaggerating when I say that every single one of them looked at Pilar in awe. The same questions seemed to linger in all of their eyes: what is it like to be her? With a girl that beautiful around, why do I ever bother?
    Pilar soaked up their attention like a sponge.
    I saw them looking at my hair, wondering how I get it to curl like this. Eemagine how sad they would be eef they knew it was natural. And that one girl who would stare at my chest like she wanted to punch me because mine are real and so high up and hers probably feel like a doll’s. I am going to look amazing tonight.
    OK, like a crazy sponge.
    But Pilar’s self-satisfaction seemed to dissolve when she looked at Madison. I am going to look amazing tonight eef Madison doesn’t look better than I do. I know he said that he might hire both of us, but I theenk I heard something about the economy not being so good. If he just would hire one of us, it would have to be me.
    Now I got it. Pilar and Madison were meeting their potential employer tonight, outfits had been chosen, and on the basis of these outfits, Pilar was sure she was going to be his first, if not only, choice. But if Madison changed her outfit, Madison could be the favorite.
    Twisted logic, but I could follow it.
    Automatically I picked up the phone to try Dr. Whitmeyer again. But then I put it down. For the first time since Gid had broken up with me, I smiled. I had always thought of Pilar and Madison as a united front, two wealthy, stylish goddesses allied against the world of bargain-bin mortals. But there was trouble in paradise.
    Maybe I would watch for just a little longer.
    Pilar pretended to examine the hem on a dress knit so loose it looked like a spiderweb. She said casually, “I’m a leetle hungry. Are you?”
    Madison turned away from a rack of dresses made out of tiny tiles.