Modelland (17 page)

But then Tookie realized something: Why was Ci~L a T-DOD Scout? Was it a demotion? After all, everyone knew that Scouts weren’t 7Sevens—they were second-string Modelland Bellas who’d tried to reach 7Seven status but missed it by a hair.

The other girls were gaping at Ci~L too. “How did that cheer about Ci~L go?” Dylan asked, her eyes bright. She raised her arms overhead, fists clenched. “
Give me a big C …”

“… 
a little
I,
a TILDE!
” Shiraz joined in, executing the cheer-leading moves that went along with the chant. To signify the tilde, the squiggle character at the center of Ci~L’s name, the girls made a wiggly shape with the flats of their hands.

“Come on, Tookie!” Dylan said, bumping Tookie’s hip. “What’s the next line?”

Tookie bit her lip, still feeling shy. “Uh, I think it’s
throw me a lanky lanky lanky long
L.” She remembered the rhyme from the playground of B3.

“Atta girl!” Dylan whooped.
“Simple and clean, no! But not a tongue twista. That’s the way way way way way you spell SEE-EL!”

“Please stop,” Ci~L said flatly.

Dylan lowered to her knees in front of Ci~L. “I’ve recorded all of your speeches and poems. You’re so … so … powerful.”

“Please don’t bow down to me. That worship stuff is uh … kinda not my thing,” Ci~L said, pulling Dylan up. “Plus, you’ll have plenty of kowtowing to do today, so spare your delicate knees. Oh, which reminds me. I have to recite the welcome crap.”

She straightened up and cleared her throat. “Welcome to Modelland,” Ci~L said in a monotone, as if on autopilot. “You nouveau Bellas are among the chosen few. But your place in the Land is not promised. It is yours to earn, every day, every minute, every second …”

Ci~L trailed off. “Ugh! You know what? I can’t recite that mess with a straight face. Besides, you’ll hear it all again momentarily. From a stone bitch.”

The Intoxibella then started to scratch her arms and legs. “Ugh, this getup is itchy as hell, man.” And with that, she shook her body and her avant-garde skirt, shirt, and boots instantly transformed into a T-shirt, ripped jeans, and dirty sneakers.

“Girl, you are so
real
. Recite a poem about us, Ci~L!” Dylan begged.

Ci~L raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “You want me to freestyle right here? Right now? Nuh-uh.”

“Then perform one of your 7Seven powers!” Piper urged. “I’d love to see Excite-to-Buy … or maybe Multiplicity.”

“Honey chile, you’ve already
seen
the powers at work,” Ci~L said nonchalantly. “How do you think we got to Modelland? In a bus?”

“The teleportation and flying!” Shiraz cried, thrusting her chest out and stretching her arms behind her in a V.

“Anyway, there’s no time for power show-and-tell or a slam now,” Ci~L said. “But hopefully I’ll be seeing you again if you pass the torture tests.”

Tookie swallowed hard.
The torture tests?
What did
that
mean? Ci~L turned for the smoke door. The winds and swirling dust had subsided, revealing the colossal wall the girls had seen from the sky. It was a mash of antiquated musical instruments, ragged slices of art canvases, clothes and outdated accessories of seasons past, and an immense assortment of architectural pieces. Marble arms and legs jutted out from the bulkhead, making it difficult to stand too close. Beyond stood the carved gold, blue, and silver Modelland gates. Eight immense gears were at each corner of two gigantic
doors. The gears were connected to steel arms—literally arms with forearms, hands, and fingers—that crossed in the center of the two doors, holding them tightly in place.

A chorus of unseen women’s voices ululated,
“Hel-hell-hellllloooo. And wel-wel-welcome to Modelland.…”

More people appeared around them. Other Scouts and their pods, pouches, and people-pockets landed on the soft fabric grass. Ci~L led Tookie and the others to a line of new Bellas standing in front of a peculiar mosaic-tiled face. Its features seemed to shift depending on where you were standing, much like looking in a fun-house mirror: to the left or right, the face looked distorted and terrifying, but when you stood directly in front of it, the face was three-dimensional and breathtaking.

“What we do here?” Shiraz asked.

“This is where you register,” Ci~L explained.

The girls watched as an ash-blond Bella approached the mosaic face. “Veekay of NorDenSwee,” she said, referring to an icy land.

The mosaic face abruptly sprang to life, its bulbous eyes opening. “Validated!” it yelled. A green light appeared, a striped barrier lifted, and Veekay advanced to a holding area beyond the gates.

“Franca of Cappuccina,” the next girl in line said.

“Authenticated!” the face deemed. Franca joined Veekay.

“Kamalini of Chakra,” said a girl wearing an intricately embroidered chartreuse wrap dress made of endless yards of the finest silk. One arm was full of gold bangles, and her eyes were decorated with a SMIZE, which fluttered every time she blinked.

“Documented!”

A girl with toned golden thighs stepped forward. “Bibiana of Terra BossaNova.”

“Confirm-iated!” The face scrunched up, seeming to know full well that
confirmiated
wasn’t a word.

Tookie, Piper, Dylan, and Shiraz moved up the line. In front of her, Tookie spotted a familiar girl with pin-straight auburn hair in a golden-yellow dress with matching shoes. She had brilliant white teeth and an attitude as thick as the afternoon air in Peppertown. Tookie sucked in a breath.
No. This can’t be happening
.

“Zarpessa of Metopia,” the auburn-haired girl trilled haughtily.

“Corroborated!”

“Zarpessa?” Tookie blurted out.

Zarpessa turned at the sound of her name. Her eyes clapped on Tookie’s, and horror rippled across her lovely face. Then, without saying a word, she turned and marched to a holding area.

So she
did
see me at the Dumpsters
, Tookie thought.
Clearly, Zarpessa doesn’t want to relive that moment
.

A few more girls passed on through, one of them a tall raven-haired girl wearing way too much makeup and a sequined miniskirt that was hacked all the way up to her butt cheeks; nothing but two giant faux diamonds covered her chest. “Chaste Runnings, from Beignet,” she lilted seductively into the mosaic face. She shimmied a little, showing off her round, pert butt.

Then it was Tookie’s turn.

“Tookie from … um … Metopia,” she whispered at the mosaic.

“Louder!” the face boomed.

“Tookie … uh … Metopia? Peppertown?” she said a teensy bit louder.

The face paused.
Here it comes
, Tookie thought.
The revelation of the Day of Discovery administrative error!

The painting smiled awkwardly and yelled, “Sub—um … substantiated.” But it didn’t sound so sure of its decision.

Before the face could change its mind, Ci~L ushered Tookie into the holding area. Then Ci~L walked back to the face, leaned down, and whispered something into where its ears would be if it had any. The other Scouts accompanying their Bellas stood on their toes to see what the famed Triple7 Intoxibella was doing.

At first, Ci~L laughed, as if the face had told her a joke, but then Tookie noticed that Ci~L’s lips weren’t moving—she wasn’t really whispering anything to the mosaic at all. What was happening, however, was that one of her jeweled tentacles was making contact with the face. A surge of sparks traveled from the tip of the tentacle to the mosaic’s mouth. The face looked temporarily stunned. All of its tiles were suddenly scrambled.

“Shiraz, Dylan, Piper!” commanded Ci~L. “Come up here. NOW!”

Shiraz approached the face. “Say your name, Shiraz,” Ci~L urged.

“Shiraz, from—”

“Vindicated!” the face trilled, before Shiraz could finish.

Then Ci~L yanked Dylan up to the face. “Name!” Ci~L insisted.

“Dylan, from Bou—”

“Predicated!”

Ci~L pushed Piper forward and positioned her dead center. “Speak now!” Ci~L barked.

“Pi—”

“Justificated!”

The tiles fell back into place. Other Bellas stepped up, not
even noticing anything was amiss. Ci~L shoved Piper, Dylan, Shiraz, and Tookie into the holding area. She pushed them so hard, Tookie tripped over her big feet, nearly tumbling to the grass. Dylan helped her up.

“What was
that
about?” Dylan whispered to Tookie.

“What, don’t you like the express lane?” Ci~L snapped harshly … but then winked.

Tookie stared at her, puzzled. Was Ci~L on their side or not?

The last of the new Bellas marched into the holding area. Tookie counted one hundred girls in total. She also kept a running tally of the number of SMIZEs. Six. The seventh was Myrracle’s. She was supposed to be here, not Tookie.

Suddenly, the giant gears on the gates began to turn, generating a deep rumble that Tookie could feel in her feet. Slowly, the gates opened inward.

Ci~L bent down to the girls. “All-righty then. My job here has been completed, for now. Back to the torture chamber for me. And the beginning of it for you.”

Shiraz looked alarmed. “Torture for you
and
us?”

Ci~L shrugged. “Beyond your wildest nightmare. And as for me, I got myself into this mess.”

“What mess?” Tookie inquired, hoping she didn’t sound prying or rude.

But Ci~L just turned away. With a flash of golden light, a hole opened in the ground. Ci~L fell backward into it and was gone.

One by one, all the other Scouts melted or flashed away, leaving the new Bellas alone. The gates continued to roll open. Tookie squinted to make out her very first glimpse of Modelland.

Through the still-narrow slit, she saw that it was like nothing she could ever have imagined.

The gates creaked open to reveal a path through a large entrance hall. Lining the entrance on both sides of the hall were about twenty statues of women, each more glorious and stunning than the one before.

Tookie, Shiraz, Dylan, and Piper slowly walked down the path, awestruck and a little frightened. The statues were massive, and all were in very distinctive poses. One with chin-length hair was doing a split midair. Another with a high ponytail that draped all the way to the ground had limbs that roped around her body like a pretzel. A sign above the figures read
IF YOU DO NOT RESPECT US, WE WILL SHAKE, RATTLE, AND ROLL YOU
.

Who are they?
Tookie thought. What
are they?

After they exited the hall of statues, they entered a large clearing. Laser fireworks zinged above them, forming the letters
B-I-E-N-V-E-N-U-E
one at a time, then
W-I-L-L-K-O-M-M-E-N
, and finally
B-E-N-V-I-N-G-U-D-A
. The words fluttered to dust, which tickled the girls when it touched their skin. The scent of rich, sweet citrus filled Tookie’s nostrils, making her mouth water.

“I smelling something good!” Shiraz waved the scent in the air toward her nose.

“It’s
arancia rossa di Sicilia
,” Piper explained clinically.

“Arancha-what?” Dylan snorted at the air hard.

“I think it’s blood orange,” Tookie said tentatively. “The pulp looks like blood, but they taste so good.”

“This place is so beautiful, it’s blowin’ my mind! Don’t faint, girl,” Dylan chanted to herself. “Don’t faint.”

A crystalline all-glass skyscraper stood before them. It towered high into the sky, shaped like a giant
M
. The building glowed from the inside, as though radioactive.

“Have you ever seen anything like this?” Shiraz sang out, stretching her arms and spinning around.

“I’ll give ya my firstborn if ya stop singing everything,” Dylan muttered, but then she shot Shiraz a good-natured smile.

A line of ten girls in matching attire waited in the distance. They looked older than the new Bellas and appeared to be from all different parts of the world—some had blond hair, others had hooded eyes, and others had ebony skin. Strangely, however, their different skin tones and hair colors aside, they kind of resembled each other. They wore two-tone-yellow pointy-shouldered vests and matching leotards over tight pants, their Senturas looped around their waists twice. Shiny diamond-shaped badges fastened to their chests read
MODELLAND BELLA TOUR GUIDE
.

The troop of uniformed girls surveyed Tookie, Dylan, Shiraz, and Piper as they neared, shooting questioning looks at each other. The question was obvious: what are those four doing here?

I’m wondering that myself
, Tookie thought nervously.

“Come, come!” the tour guides called to the advancing girls. Tookie headed toward them. Smooth, seamless gold paved the plaza in front of the M building. As she began to cross it, the ground started to move a bit, wobbling and shimmering ever so slightly.

“Reflection inspection!” one of the uniformed girls bellowed. Suddenly, the gold surface bubbled and curved upward around the line of uniformed girls. With astonishing speed, the material melded into perfect three-dimensional gold versions of each of them.

“Oh my Lordy.” Dylan clutched her breast.

The guides surveyed themselves in their gold reflections, fixing a hair out of place and a smudge of lipstick. The liquid-gold substance mimicked them exactly, a mirror image in three dimensions. Then the guides’ reflections quickly dropped back into the ground, which reverted to a flawless, smooth, caramel-colored surface.

“Now you!” one uniformed girl said to the cluster of new Bellas.

Tookie stuck her toe on the surface. Solid. She walked slowly onto the gold. The other girls from her pouch followed suit. As the golden liquid rose before them, Dylan started to move and pose.
She’s good
, Tookie thought. But then, instead of mimicking Dylan’s body, the gold formed a giant question mark.

Tookie looked at her own golden shape. It had become a question mark too. So had Piper’s and Shiraz’s. Every other girl in the plaza had a normal gold doppelganger standing before them.