Mallory and Mary Ann Take New York (10 page)

“Two minutes until we're back on air,” Holiday says.

I look at Mary Ann and nod. I would love to tell my best friend how exciting it was to model on national television, but now is not the time for that.

Mary Ann and I have work to do, and not much time to do it.

I tap Holiday on the arm. “I have to go to the bathroom again,” I tell her. I hold my stomach and make a face like this time, it's going to be a real problem if I don't.

Mary Ann loops her arm around me like it's her job to hold me up and if she weren't doing it, I'd be on the floor.

Holiday looks at her watch and shakes her head. “You better make it quick.”

Mary Ann keeps her arm around me as we walk into the bathroom. When we get inside, Mary Ann and I nod at each other.

It is time to put the most important part of our plan into action.

I put on Mary Ann's black shirt, jeans, baseball cap, and sunglasses.

Mary Ann puts on my skinny jeans, tunic top, vest, bracelets, necklace, boots, hat, glasses, and wig.

We change clothes faster than my brother can change the TV channel to a game he wants to watch.

I straighten Mary Ann's necklace.

She tucks some stray hair into my baseball cap.

“I can't tell who's who,” she says

Holiday bangs on the door. “Mallory, you're on.”

I push my glasses back on my nose. With the baseball cap and glasses, it really is hard to tell Mary Ann and me apart.

Mary Ann fluffs up her wig. “How do I look?” she asks.

I stand back and inspect her. She looks just like I did two minutes ago. I nod like I approve. “Showtime,” I whisper.

Mary Ann and I squeeze our hands together for luck.

Then I open the door.

I cross my toes that Holiday won't notice anything different, but Holiday is not in a noticing mood.

She grabs Mary Ann's arm and marches her to the side of the stage faster than Princess Jasmine crosses the sky on her magic carpet.

The red light backstage starts blinking again.

I look at Mary Ann. She looks just like I looked in my dream outfit. I just hope she can model like me too.

I can tell she's excited and nervous, just like I was. She turns around and looks at me. I give her a
you-can-do-it
look.

I can see the lights on the stage twinkling.

Fran starts talking to the audience and the cameras. “Welcome back to our very special Design Your Dream Outfit episode.”

I listen as Fran talks about how many people entered the contest and how many good designs she looked at before she chose this one. “I'm going to ask our winner, Miss Mallory McDonald, to walk the stage one more time and model her creation.”

Music starts playing again. It's Mary Ann's cue to start walking.

Holiday pushes Mary Ann up the stairs.

I cross my toes and my fingers as tightly as I've ever crossed them before. I hope we can pull this off. “
GO!
” I say silently. And she does.

I watch from backstage as Mary Ann walks across the stage. When she gets to the far end, she turns and pauses, just like I did.

She puts one hand on her hip and waves to the audience, just like I did.

The audience claps. She smiles at the camera and waves again. Then she walks back across the stage. Just like I did.

When she gets back to where Fran is standing, Fran wraps an arm around her. “Let's give a big round of applause to Miss Mallory McDonald.”

I listen while the audience claps and the music keeps playing.

We did it! I let out a deep breath.

I can't believe I was on the
Fashion Fran
show and so was Mary Ann. Our dream came true. All our wishing and planning and pinky swearing worked.

“Isn't her outfit dreamy?” I hear Fran ask the audience.

There's more clapping, and then Fran talks some more about fashion and design. When she's done she waves good-bye to the audience and says what she says at the end of every episode.

“That's it for today. See you tomorrow with more of the latest, greatest finds in the world of fashion.” She blows a kiss.

Somewhere I hear a man yell, “Cut!”

The next thing I know, Mary Ann is walking down the steps back toward me.

As happy as I am and as much as I want to jump for joy with her that we were both on the
Fashion Fran
show, now is definitely not the time for that. There's one more part of my plan that needs to happen. And it's an important part, too: we need to change back before anyone notices we changed in the first place.

I give Mary Ann a
follow-me
look.

I walk toward the bathroom and so does she. When we get inside, I close the door and lock it.

Mary Ann's skin is sparkly from the heat of the lights. “Your plan went off without a hitch!” she whispers. “I don't know what made you add the wig, hat, and glasses to your dream outfit, but if you hadn't, this plan never would have worked.”

I don't know what made me add them either, but I'm glad I did!

Mary Ann hugs me. “We did it!” she says just loudly enough for me to hear.

“We're still doing it,” I say.

She nods like she gets exactly what I mean.

I peel off my clothes and Mary Ann peels off hers. We change clothes even faster than we changed the first time, and I didn't think that was possible.

When we finish changing, Mary Ann and I inspect each other. “Everything is just like it was before we changed,” she whispers.

I nod that I agree.

Mary Ann and I both take deep breaths.

I have a feeling when we open this door, Holiday will be right there on the other side, waiting to take us to our mothers.

But I'm surprised when I open the door, and so is Mary Ann. Holiday is not the one who is waiting for us.

It's Fran. She looks at us with her hands on her hips.

“Girls,” says Fran, “you are in double trouble!”

Fran walks us to her dressing room. She closes the door. It's just the three of us.

Fran's face is blank. It's hard to tell what she's thinking. I give Mary Ann a worried look, and she gives me the same look back.

“Girls, that was some switchup,” says Fran.

I try to swallow, but it feels like there is a wad of gum stuck in my throat. “Are you mad at us?” I ask Fran.

Sometimes, when you ask a question, waiting to hear the answer is even scarier than asking the question. This is one of those times. She makes a
hmmm
sound. Then she taps her foot.

I feel like her
hmmm
and her foot tap mean she wants an explanation, so I give her one. I explain how Mary Ann and I are best friends and how we do everything together. I explain how one of the things we wanted to do together was to be on her show.

I pause. Then I look at Mary Ann like I need her help.

She picks up where I left off.

She explains to Fran how her show is our favorite. “We have watched it every day together our whole lives,” Mary Ann tells Fran.

She keeps talking. “It has always been our dream to be on your show. Together.” She looks down at her feet and shrugs like what she's about to say next might not make sense, but she hopes Fran understands. “When Mallory won the contest, we made a pinky swear that somehow, some way, we would figure out how to both be on your show.”

I look at Mary Ann. Then she looks at me like she's not sure what else we can say.

“We didn't mean to break the rules,” I say.

Mary Ann and I look at each other again. “We're really sorry,” we say at the same time.

Fran looks from me to Mary Ann. She studies us for a moment like she's trying to figure out a complicated problem.

It feels like forever before she says anything.

Finally, she does. “Apology accepted,” says Fran.

She puts one arm around me and the other one around Mary Ann. “In fashion, creativity is the name of the game. You two certainly found a creative solution to your problem, and the show went off without a hitch.”

Fran smiles. “I'm sure the two of you will make excellent fashion designers one day. Actresses too. That was an almost flawless performance.”