Beacon Street Girls: Fashion Frenzy Part 8

Betsy tossed her head. "If you want me to coauthor the piece, I'd be happy to help you. We wouldn't have to do any research because I've already got tons of information."

"Maybe it's not supposed to be all about facts and research, Betsy," Avery piped in. "The school paper is supposed to be about what's happening at school...not just a list of boring facts."

Charlotte cringed. Avery could be so clueless sometimes.

Betsy shrunk back in her seat and whispered hopefully, "Well, if you change your mind..."

"I'll definitely ask you if I need help on the historical parts," Charlotte offered with a smile. Betsy was one of those people who was so annoying but nice at the same time. Charlotte certainly didn't want to hurt her feelings.

"Hey, Izzy, maybe The Sentinel will use your sketches to ill.u.s.trate Charlotte's article," Avery suggested.

"How cool would that be, Iz!" Charlotte said excitedly.

Isabel's rich brown eyes sparkled. "Oh, I'd love to have my drawings next to your article in The Sentinel!"

"Maybe," Avery murmured, "you can even draw a pyramid." She nudged Isabel, and the girls burst out laughing.

"No, maybe I'll even draw a mummy!" Isabel joked as she reached over and tugged Avery's hair.

An Egyptian Curse Once the bus dropped them off at the entrance of Boston's famous Museum of Fine Arts, the teachers quickly organized students into groups based on who wanted to see what. Avery, Charlotte, and Isabel insisted on being in the same group. "After all," Avery said, "it doesn't really matter what we see, as long as we get to hang out together."

Ms. Rodriguez had split off a number of groups that had already moved off and started touring. "The rest of you will be with Ms. Weston and me," she said. The BSG turned around. There were four other girls in their group plus Ms. Weston with her happy smile. But the biggest surprise was the last member standing alone with his gigantic backpack. Danny Pellegrino shuffled over to the group and gave Isabel a wide grin. A museum docent, or tour guide, was waiting to escort them around.

Avery looked quickly at their group. "Figures, Danny's the only guy in our group," she said in a low voice to Charlotte and Isabel.

"Why do I think this is not an accident?" Charlotte asked.

"I think someone here wishes that our field trip was to the Isabel Martinez Museum instead," Avery whispered. Danny Pellegrino had been making moon eyes over Isabel for more than a week. He was driving her bonkers.

"Shh!" Isabel giggled.

"I think you're going to be very excited about our first stop today," said the guide as she led them down the stately museum hallways adorned with Flemish paintings. "We are headed toward the Mummy Room!" She ushered them around the corner.

"Yessssss!" Avery hissed.

"Ugh," gulped Isabel. "I was hoping that the mummy room would be at the very end so I could work up to it."

The entrance to the Mummy Room was designed like a tomb, with two thick columns covered with hieroglyphics. Isabel lingered by the columns while her cla.s.smates filtered into the room.

"Oooh, look at these!" Avery cried, rushing over to the wall where three or four mummy cases leaned. Each mummy had a card in front of it that explained who the person was inside.

Charlotte followed Avery, occasionally scribbling a thought down in her notebook. She was surprised to find that the information on the mummies was really interesting. Almost all of them were royalty or soldiers. Charlotte pointed to a smoothed stone statue with a face and headdress. It was huge-at least a foot taller than she was. A card explained that it was the lid of the sarcophagus of General Kheper-Re dating back between 570-526 B.C. The card also described the treasures that were buried with the mummies. The ancient Egyptians believed the spirits of the dead would use these treasures in their afterlife.

"Do you think the kids at Abigail Adams would be interested to know that ancient Egyptians totally believed in life after death?" Charlotte asked Avery.

"Maybe." Avery shrugged. "But personally, I think you should write about how creepy these sarcophagus heads are. Check out this dude's eyes...no eyeb.a.l.l.s!"

Charlotte giggled and whispered, "And look at all the little hieroglyphics on it! There are worms, and people shooting bows and arrows. Oh, and look at all the tiny birds. Izzy would love these."

"Where is she anyway?" asked Avery as she turned around. Isabel had disappeared.

Anxious to avoid the mummies, Isabel had spotted a small, elegant portrait, just outside the Mummy Room. Phew! I'm safe, she thought to herself.

There was something so familiar about the tiny painting. With the little brush strokes, pearly pink mouth, and soulful brown eyes, it looked like something Isabel could have painted herself. The woman wore two necklaces: a string of emeralds, and a linked-gold chain. Isabel realized that she had seen jewelry like that in stores just the other day. She glanced at the card to see when this was painted. The card read "About A.D. 100." This look certainly has made a comeback, Isabel thought with a smile. Above the date the card also read "Fragmentary mummy portrait of a woman." This gave Isabel the shivers, but she dutifully took out her sketchbook and box of colored pencils and flipped open to a blank page. Well, as long as I'm not near the mummies I'll be just fine! And with a black pencil, she gracefully etched out the outlines of the woman's tiny ringlets and dainty cleft chin.

"Did you know that ancient Egyptians worshipped cats," said a voice from behind her. "Did you know they even had cat mummies?"

Isabel, startled, dropped her pencil and just managed to catch her sketchbook before it fell to the ground. "Uugh...I didn't see you there," she muttered.

"Allow me," offered Danny Pellegrino, retrieving her pencil with a dramatic bow. "Me lady." He presented the ordinary black pencil resting on his two hands as if it were the Hope Diamond.

"Um, thanks," was all Isabel could say.

"So where was I? Oh yeah! Cats. Did you see all the cats in their murals and the paintings of their houses? And did you know they had ceremonies when they mummified their dead cats?"

"No, I did not know this." Isabel was trying to be polite but she craved time alone with her pencil and paper. She looked around for Betsy Fitzgerald. Maybe Betsy could channel Danny's Egyptian energies away from her.

Danny put one hand on his hip and the other on the gla.s.s case in a casual side-lean.

"Hands OFF the gla.s.s, please!" ordered a guard who was watching him carefully. Danny turned beet red, mumbled an apology, and stuffed both hands in his pockets.

This guy is a disaster! Isabel rolled her eyes. "Danny, you're going to get us both in trouble."

Danny barely skipped a beat as he moved quickly on with his lesson. "Did you know that ancient Egyptians were buried with their cat mummies?"

Breathing deeply, Isabel clutched the sides of her notebook. This was going to be a trying day. "Well, actually, I'm not a big fan of mummies. Not even cat mummies," she muttered.

"I don't think this museum has cat mummies," Danny said. "Lemme check with the guide. You'll be here for a while? You're still working on your drawing, right?"

"Yeah," Isabel said. He could check on anything he wanted, as long as he'd just leave her alone!

"Phew! Okay, I'll be right back, don't worry." Danny scurried off like a man on a mission. The minute he walked away, Isabel hurried to another part of the room. If she couldn't sketch the portrait in peace, maybe she could copy this pretty painting of a pair of servants respectfully serving dinner to their master and mistress. The lines were graceful and elegant. Isabel thought this might even turn out better than the woman with the beautiful jewelry.

She had just flipped to a fresh sheet in her notebook when she heard, "I was right, Isabel. The guide says they don't have any cat mummies in the museum. That's a relief for you, huh? Now you can just draw away and you have nothing to worry about."

Danny was so proud of himself he looked like he was going to pop, thought Isabel. She had a sudden vision of Danny as a huge balloon floating in the air and spouting useless facts, shouting, "Vote for me!"

Isabel pressed her lips together tightly to prevent herself from screaming. "Mmm hmm." She nodded. Nothing to worry about? What would it take to get Danny to leave her in peace? He seemed, at least for the moment, to be completely absorbed in an amulet in a gla.s.s case. Maybe she could concentrate once more. As soon as she started a new drawing, Danny popped up and said with a hopeful smile, "Cmo ests?"

The only thing more annoying than Danny making small talk in English was Danny making small talk en Espaol. Could someone save her, please? She looked around for Avery, who could send Danny away in a minute and wouldn't worry too much about hurting his feelings. Worrying about hurting someone's feelings could be a real burden sometimes, she thought.

"Did you know," he inquired, "that Egyptian women made sure they were buried with their cosmetics, too? They used tons of makeup every day. Did you know they were supposedly as beautiful as supermodels are today? Of course they weren't as beautiful as...well, never mind."

Isabel groaned. "Danny, you are driving me crazy."

Once again, Danny had become magenta, but he couldn't stop himself from demonstrating his vast artillery of pointless facts. Now Danny was pointing to a small object in the case. He uttered a word and dramatically let the letters roll off his tongue. Isabel thought it sounded a little like Spanish-but not like any Spanish she'd ever heard before! Then he nudged her and pointed to another trinket and again said something with a strange, Spanish-like accent.

Danny must have been trying to say something in Spanish, but he wasn't even close. Isabel had been at the museum for almost an hour and she had barely made a scribble. If she didn't get away from Danny, she would never come up with a picture for Charlotte's article.

"Look," she said, throwing down her pencil, "Danny, no offense, but I don't even care about makeup all that much myself, and anyway, I'm not studying makeup today, or anything else! I am here to draw and I haven't gotten much done..." As she waited for her words to sink in, she hoped she hadn't been too harsh. She gave him a quick smile. Big mistake!

Danny shook he was so happy. "Come on, Isabel," he continued. "Don't be so hard on yourself." Danny wasn't trying to leave her alone...he was trying to make her feel better. "Hey, I really study this stuff. I don't mean like some people-I don't just do a five-minute Google search and figure I know all there is to know. I mean, I've read books, tons and tons of them. I could quote you stuff all day about the ancient Egyptians!"

Danny peered down at her sketch. "Wow! Wonderful sketch, Isabel."

Isabel started to cough. "Danny, this isn't even a sketch. This is lines!"

"Ah-HAH! Methinks the lady doth protest too much! That was a Shakespearean quote, by the way. You like Shakespeare, si?"

"What?" Isabel asked. "Danny..." She was almost in tears. "I just want to draw. I don't speak Shakespeare." She searched for a glimmer of recognition in his eyes that he was beyond annoying and had turned into a major cling-on! "Danny...I gotta go...now." Isabel tried to look like she had another destination in mind and turned to walk away as fast as she could.

Danny stopped and blinked. "What?" he asked. "Go where? Adnde va usted?"

"See ya!" She waved over her shoulder as she hurried off to another room where on the way in she had spied a funny painting of a boy wearing a dress. It was an American painting from the seventeenth century called "Robert Gibbs at 4 Years." Isabel thought the little boy with long hair looked funny in his long gown, but she supposed that was the style back in early America. As Isabel settled down to work, she took a deep breath and tried to remember that drawing was what she did to relax.

She jotted down a few figures and started to get lost in her sketch. This is nice, she thought. Suddenly, she heard footsteps behind her. Then she heard it. "Seorita Isabel..."

Isabel jumped up and hurried away. With each step she took she could hear Danny's untied sneakers clomp-clomping behind her. They were getting closer and closer.

It was like Marty trailing around after Avery! Only Marty was sweet and lovable, and Danny was like a sticky, gooey piece of gum you couldn't get off your clothes, no matter how hard you tried.

Thank goodness Maeve and Katani are in New York, she thought as she raced through the halls looking for Avery and Charlotte. The only thing making her happy right now was that at least her friends were having a good time. Clearly she wasn't having fun. Not at all! Danny Pellegrino was slowly but surely leeching all the fun out of her trip.

Part Two.

Worth the Trip.

CHAPTER.

11.

Clashing Styles.

IT WAS ONLY NINE THIRTY on Friday, and Katani was already frantic.

Mich.e.l.le had to be at the Teen Beat fashion show venue super early, and Katani wanted to go with her to experience as much of the show as possible. Katani set her alarm clock for seven a.m. sharp and was up, showered, and dressed by seven-fifteen a.m. She put on a little lip gloss so the fashion show people could see she was well groomed but still professional.

At seven thirty, Katani sat down with Mich.e.l.le to eat breakfast: a gla.s.s of orange juice and Mich.e.l.le's delicious scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese, onion, and bacon. Mich.e.l.le asked her if she was excited and Katani nodded. "Oh Mich.e.l.le, this is a dream come true!"

Mich.e.l.le gulped down her orange juice and said, "My first fashion show was the sweetest thing ever. You'll want to make sure you are on time so you don't miss anything."

Katani was all set to go. Maeve, on the other hand, was not. She was still out cold on the pullout couch. The long "Zzzz..." sounds coming from the study indicated that she had no intention of waking up any time soon.

It was a little after eight o'clock when Mich.e.l.le glanced at her watch and reluctantly said, "K, I really have to go now."

"Of course," Katani a.s.sured her. She wanted to be mature, though her heart was sinking. "I understand. We'll be right behind you."

"I know you will," Mich.e.l.le said, though there was doubt upon her face. She dug into a striped leather handbag and handed Katani some cash. "Here. This is cab fare to the Teen Beat office. The fashion show is being held on the twenty-ninth floor in the grand ballroom. I'll write down the address for you. It's not far from here at all. You think you can find it?"

"Oh, sure," Katani said, trying to sound confident. "How hard can it be?"

Mich.e.l.le carefully scribbled down the office address, her office phone number, and her cell phone number. "The front door locks automatically, so just pull it closed when you leave. Andrew's the doorman who's on duty during the day at my building. He's really nice. Ask him to get you a cab and then just tell the driver the address. Cab drivers know where everything is in this city. And don't worry if it's too busy for a cab-you can always take the subway."

"The subway?" Katani asked doubtfully.

"Well of course, silly. Everyone takes the subway in New York. It's much cheaper than a taxi and just as quick and easy. Besides, the stop is only a few blocks away. Andrew will tell you how to get there." Mich.e.l.le glanced at her watch. "Yikes! Okay now I really have to run. I'll see you soon, Katani!"

She gave Katani a hug and was off in a flash. People in New York seemed to move a lot faster than they did in Brookline!

The moment the door slammed shut behind Mich.e.l.le, Katani heard a loud thump followed by a yawn coming from the study down the hall. The door burst open and out stumbled Maeve, her eyes still half closed. "Sleeping Beauty is awake!" Maeve announced, stretching groggily. "And has to shower like WHOA!"

Katani watched as Maeve tramped down to the bathroom. The shower seemed to go on forever. When the water finally shut off, Katani heard the sound of Maeve's voice belting out a song from an old Broadway show: "Come on along and listen to...the lullaby of Broadway!"

Katani summoned up all the patience she could muster. The sooner Maeve ate, the sooner they could get their show on the road. Katani quickly laid out breakfast for Maeve and called her to come in and eat. Ten minutes later, Maeve appeared in the kitchen. Her face was scrubbed, but her hair was soaking wet.

"Oh, Katani, you didn't have to do that! Thanks!" Maeve exclaimed when she saw the eggs and toast on a plate. She slid into a chair and began to drink her orange juice as though she had not a worry in the world.

Katani could feel her face getting warm. This was the day she had been looking forward to for weeks. In fact, she had been waiting for this day her whole life. She couldn't wait to be a part of the big fashion show, and she was already running late.

"I think," Katani suggested as politely as she could manage, "that we'd better get going now. Mich.e.l.le is already there, and she expects us to come very soon. She even gave me cab fare."

"Oh. Okay." Maeve cast a longing glance at the pitcher of orange juice but obediently got up. "I'll be just a minute," she promised.

That minute turned into fifty...

Maeve simply could not make up her mind on what to wear. She had brought enough with her for a month, Katani thought, and she had to try on each outfit and scrutinize her appearance in the mirror before deciding that no, this wasn't right at all. These pants made her look like a kid, and that sweatshirt was too garish, and these jeans were too informal for an office, and...Katani lost track of the reasons Maeve gave for each change of outfit.

Katani was so upset she was ready to cry. She wanted so badly to come across as professional on her big fashion debut. Professionals were always on time. Professionals made do with whatever they had. Professionals got the job done. And arriving more than an hour after everyone else didn't make her a look like a professional-it made her look like a kid who couldn't keep up!

She bit her lip. Why didn't Maeve understand how important this was to her? She was about to pound on the door when Maeve finally popped out of the room.

"I think I've got it," Maeve finally announced brightly. She came out of the study wearing jeans, a crisp white shirt, and a light pink cable-knit sweater. She rolled the cuffs of the shirt over the sweater and was sporting what she called "the popped collar."

Katani stared at her. "That was the first outfit you put on!"

"I know. I guess it's like Dorothy's lesson in The Wizard of Oz. I had to try everything else to know that I had it right the first time!" Maeve flashed Katani a friendly smile. "Anyway, I'm ready now. I won't even waste time doing my hair again." She showed off her freshly washed red hair that she'd spent at least a half hour drying and styling. "See? Just these two little barrettes. Very simple. I don't want to hold you up. Come on, let's hurry."