Mallory and Mary Ann Take New York (3 page)

I turn up the volume. I know Mary Ann wants to hear this as much as I do.

Fran tells viewers how she loved playing with fabrics and designing outfits when she was a little girl. The camera cuts to pictures of ten-year-old Fran using a miniature sewing machine she says her grandmother gave her.

“I have been sewing and designing ever since.” Fran smiles into the camera. “Now, it is your turn.”

“The contest is simple,” says Fran. “Design your dream outfit, your most perfect, fashionable ensemble, on one sheet of 81/2 by 11 paper. Please use pencils and colored pencils only. Send your design to my studio in New York, addressed to Design Your Dream Outfit Contest.”

A New York City address flashes on the front of the screen.

“Write that down,” I say to Mary Ann.

Mary Ann starts writing.

Fran keeps talking. “You have three weeks to submit your design. I will personally look at each and every one that comes in.” Lights twinkle on the screen behind Fran. She smiles into the camera. “And when we come back, I'll announce the prize for winning the Design Your Dream Outfit contest.”

The TV cuts to a commercial.

“I can't wait to start designing,” says Mary Ann. “Me too,” I say to my best friend. My head starts filling up with ideas. I can already picture the dream outfits Mary Ann and I are going to design.

I'm really excited to design my dream outfit. But I'm even more excited to find out what you get if you win the contest.

When Fran returns, the lights twinkle again. “Now, the moment you have all been waiting for.” A drum rolls in the background.

I squeeze Mary Ann's hand as Fran starts talking.

Fran raises an eyebrow and grins. “Viewers, I will choose the winning design. Then our seamstresses will sew it, creating a real dream outfit from the design.” Fran pauses like what she's about to say next is the most exciting thing she has said so far. Mary Ann and I lean in toward the TV.

“The winner will receive an all-expenses-paid trip for four to New York City … AND a chance to appear on my show and model the winning design!”

When Fran says that, Mary Ann starts bouncing up and down on the couch. I'm starting to feel couch-sick. It's the same thing as seasick, except it happens when you're on a couch that is moving instead of a boat.

“Wow! Wow! Wow!” screams Mary Ann. “All we have to do is win the contest, and we get to go to New York City and model our outfits on the
Fashion Fran
show. We're going on
Fashion Fran
!”

I look at Mary Ann. I've never seen her so bouncy. I'm excited too, but I'm not sure why she's so bouncy. I'm also not sure why she used the word “we.”

I put my hand on her arm and she stops moving. “Didn't you hear Fran?” I say. “She didn't say “
winners
,” she said “
winner
.”

I wait for what I said to sink in, but it doesn't. Mary Ann waves at me like she's heard enough. She points to the screen. Fran is starting to talk again.

She holds up a sketch pad and a pencil. “You design it. Our seamstresses sew it. One lucky winner will model her design on the show.” Fran smiles. “This contest is only open for the next three weeks. So get busy drawing your dream outfit. I know there's a fashion designer in all of you.”

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

The camera cuts to another commercial.

“
One lucky winner
” keeps spinning through my head. What was supposed to be the most exciting episode ever just turned into the worst episode ever. “What are we going to do?” I ask Mary Ann.

Mary Ann looks at me funny. “About what?”

Sometimes I wonder what goes on in Mary Ann's brain.

“Only one person gets to go on Fran's show. And there are two of us.”

Mary Ann takes a deep
give-me-a-minute-to-think-about-this
breath. “It's simple,” she says. “All we have to do is make a pinky swear. If one of us wins, we'll figure out a way to both go on the show.”

She holds up her pinky like she's waiting for me to hook mine around hers.

I look at her. “How are we going to do that?”

Mary Ann shakes her head like now I'm the one who doesn't get it. “We need to stop talking and start promising!”

I shake my head. “I don't see how …”

I was going to say that I don't see how we could figure out something as big as both getting on the show, but Mary Ann stops me. She hooks my pinky in hers and shakes them up and down.

“Mallory, don't worry,” she says. “Everything will work out fine. It always does when we make a pinky swear.”

I nod. I try to imagine Mary Ann and me in New York. Seeing the sights. Modeling on the
Fashion Fran
show. But it's hard.

I know we made a pinky swear. But this time, I'm just not sure that's going to make everything work out.

I don't know why I was so worried about what happens if one of us wins the Design Your Dream Outfit contest. So far, it doesn't look like either one of us is going to win this contest.

It has been exactly two weeks and four days since Fashion Fran announced her Design Your Dream Outfit contest. For the last two weeks and four days, I have been designing outfits and Mary Ann has been designing outfits.

We have been working on our designs every afternoon after school and on the weekends. We've hardly left my room.

The problem is … so far, none of our outfits look very dreamy.

Now it's crunch time. We only have three days to go before the contest is over.

I rip a sheet of paper out of the sketch pad I've been drawing in and crumple it into a ball. I toss it toward the trash can next to my desk. It misses and lands on my floor, next to the large pile of other wadded-up papers already on my floor.

Mary Ann leans back against the pillows on my bed and blows a piece of hair off her forehead. She tosses her sketch pad on the ground. “I give up.”

“C'mon. We can't give up.” I rub my head, which is what I do when I'm doing my most serious thinking. “We need to focus,” I say.

Mary Ann snorts. “We've been focusing. I'm sick of focusing.”

I pick up her sketch pad and hand it back to her. “Let's give it one more try. We just need to design the perfect outfit that we both would want to wear.”

Mary Ann nods like she'll try, but she's not as into it as she was two weeks and four days ago.

I hand her a pencil, and we both flip to clean pages in our sketchbooks.

I really want to do a good job. I really want to win this contest.

I draw a model body. Then I put a pair of skinny jeans on the model.

Mary Ann looks over at my drawing. “Those look good,” she says. She draws a long skirt on her model.

I don't love long skirts, but maybe Mary Ann will draw something cute on top.

“Your turn,” she says.

I look at the jeans I drew. I draw a tunic top with flowing sleeves. I add little bits of lace around the neck and wrists.

“Nice!” says Mary Ann. She draws a vest with fringe to go above the skirt.

“Like it?” she asks.

I purse my lips and rub my head. “I'm not sure I do.”

I'm trying to decide what it is that I don't like about it, but Mary Ann waves her hand at me. She doesn't seem to care if I like it or not. “Keep drawing,” says Mary Ann. I can tell all she wants to do is finish the designs.

I add an armful of bracelets and a beaded necklace to my drawing.

Mary Ann adds a studded belt to hers.

I add some boots.

Mary Ann adds ballet flats.

I look at my drawing. I'm really happy with it. I hold it up so Mary Ann can get a good look. “What do you think?” I ask. I wait for Mary Ann to smile and say she loves it.

But Mary Ann frowns. “I don't know,” she says. “Something is missing.”

I study the model I drew. Part of me thinks Mary Ann doesn't like my drawing because I said I didn't like hers. But another part of me agrees with her. Something is definitely missing.