I gulp, and my cheeks go fire hot. “Yeah?”
“I really am glad you came.”
A trillion butterflies whoosh into my tummy. “Me too.”
Chapter Three
Day-why did I do this?
Forget.My. Life.
Seriously. It’s officially over. I stare at the hideous jumper before me, complete with huge ugly flowers, and feel a gag coming on. I think back on the questionnaire. The part where I explained our first date in detail, all the way down to the“hideous floral jumper”I was so in love with at the time.
Thisis what I get for being honest?
My nostrils flare as I dart a look to a camera I spotted in the high corner behind me. “I can’t believe you guys did this,” I hiss, death itself clinging to my voice. I cover my face and weigh my options. Can I make a deal with Marsha to forgo the thirty K for today and wear something else instead?
“This is evil,” I add, glaring at the atrocity before me. My old high school jumper wasn’t this hideous. It was a cute enough cut and shape, just not an attractive pattern with all its clashing colors and loud flowers.
But this…Satan himself sewed this monstrosity. I step one foot inside the massive wardrobe, hoping it will take me straight to Narnia. When it doesn’t, I reach into the metal locker fastened to the back and tug the ugly outfit off its hook.
It’s the material they use to make stiff, pleated drapes that hang on high dark walls in forsaken castles. There are ruffles—ruffleshappening at the cuff of each three-quarters-length sleeve and at the hems too, which look as if they’ll hit me mid-calf.
My heart goes into spasms. I spin it around and gasp when I spot a zipper in back! Azipper,for crying out loud. And not just a little invisible one either. This thing is the size of railroad tracks.
My next breath comes out shaky. This was a mistake. A mistake as big as the mansion that held the drapes this fabric came from. But then, an image of Kai floats through my mind. We used to dress up in crazy costumes together all the time. I’d rocked a Twisted Sister style wig with matching makeup and wardrobe in front of the entire school. I can do this.
At least the producers hadn’t made me show up in the thing. And they better not make me wear crap like this for the rest of the time. I duck into the attached bathroom, trusting what they said aboutnothaving cameras in there, and say goodbye for now to the gorgeous dress.
My heels definitely won’t go with this, I realize as I step into the bloomer-like pants one leg at a time. I shove my arms in next, the cloth scratchy against my skin, and take a look at myself in the mirror. Clown shoes and a big red nose, that’s all that’s missing here.
No, no, it’s not Nikki anymore. You can call me Mimi. I make balloon animals, I perform magic tricks, and I can make your libidodisappear!
I stare at my reflection. Between the puffed sleeves, rounded collar, and the mane of my wavy blonde hair, my face looks like it’s shrinking.
I hurry back into my room and tip my suitcase on its side. It takes less than three seconds to recover my hair and makeup kit and run back to the safety of the private bathroom. I tug a hairband from my bag and proceed to pull my hair back. I work the long locks into a high pony and loosen a few wisps so they frame my face. There.
I try focusing on my face and hair while blurring out what’s happening on my body and almost feel normal. I’m quick to trace on an extra coat of lip gloss and gargle some of the mouthwash they so kindly provided. I hurry back to my suitcase, step into my bamboo flip-flops, and stand before the mirror hanging inside the wardrobe door.Hello, Mimi.
My puffy pleated shoulders flinch as the rattling bell blasts again, this time in two short spurts.
“That was the sound of your five-minute warning,” the man chimes happily through the intercom.
I walk into the hallway. No signs or arrows point out the way. It seems the wardrobe must be the only porthole in which the station’s evil witch and her hobgoblins have access from the other side.
The place seems to be part house, part high school, and part TV studio. It looks perfectly normal from the outside, and my bedroom—minus the hidden locker—is typical too. But as I walk into what I expected to be the kitchen, I find our old high school cafeteria instead. Only it looks like the lunch duty crew has the day off since the serving area lacks any hints of food.
“Hey,” comes a husky voice from behind.
I stop short. I’m seriously dreading thebig reveal,but I force myself to spin around and get it over with. “Hi.”
I expect to see Kai wearing a football jersey like he wore during our first date. He’s wearing one all right; one made for a sasquatch. A pair of thick, dark-rimmed glasses sit crookedly on his nose. Layers of masking tape make a bump in the center, and the glass has a magnifying effect on just one side, making one of his brown eyes bulge. It reminds me of the googly eyes on my old Cookie Monster toy.
I can’t help but laugh. “They got you too?” I laugh some more, relieved that I’m not the only one suffering.
“Oh, they got me!” he says, his weirdly wide eye going even wider behind the thick glass.
I stifle more laughter. “Well, I didn’t exactly say I wore an Oompa Loompa costume on our first date, but I might as well have.”
