Authors: Tyra Banks
Ci~L turned her head away in shame. Tookie felt a lump in her throat. What had Ci~L
done
?
“She comes here because keeping her at Modelland has not been enough,” Persimmon recited. “She has continued to spout her insolent, disrespectful, heinous messages and vile verbiage that has denigrated all we stand for. And so, as an attempt to truly get through to her so that she understands the hideousness of her actions, we must step things up a notch. Today, Ci~L is returning to her roots to be …” Persimmon paused dramatically. “… a first-year Bella. A
No-See
.”
Everyone gasped, including Zarpessa and Chaste. Even MattJoe looked uncomfortable.
Persimmon poked Ci~L’s shoulder. “The BellaDonna commands you to remove the ugly suit.”
Ci~L swallowed hard. Slowly, she unzipped the jumpsuit. It dropped to the floor in a dingy pile. Everyone gasped again. Underneath the jumpsuit was a green Modelland Bella uniform.
But it was too small.
Bursting at the seams.
“Now I know what Guru Gunnero means when he calls her
Body Girl
,” Zarpessa hooted.
Persimmon gazed at the Bellas. “Today, Ci~L is on the same
level as all of you—
beneath
you, actually, as you are in your second quadmester and she is in her first. The BellaDonna has commanded that she return to her Bella ways of yesteryear, when she complied with the rules of authority. After this course, she will return to the Ugly Room for more shock treatments.”
“Persimmon, is all this really necessary?” Guru MattJoe asked, looking pityingly at Ci~L. “To do this to a girl who was so far ahead of everyone in my class not too long ago? To make her suffer so?”
Then he spied a BellaDonna bust across the sphere and straightened up. “Of course, I assume the esteemed Madame BellaDonna has her reasons for doing this.…” It was as though the BellaDonna was in the room with them. Maybe she was.
“Ci~L poses a risk to herself and to all of us,” Persimmon said. “She
must
be reformed by any means necessary.” The Mannecant stepped up to Ci~L and removed the muzzle. Little droplets of blood oozed from the corners of Ci~L’s mouth.
Zarpessa snickered. “Wow, the famed Intoxibella is slumming it with the No-Sees.”
Tookie whipped around, filled with rage. “Yeah, well, you’re no stranger to slumming it yourself!” she snapped before she could stop herself.
Zarpessa’s eyes blazed.
Uh-oh
, Tookie thought.
You’ve done it now. And anyway, Ci~L is crazy! Why did you even defend her? At least, I
think
she’s crazy
.
“Listen, you crazy-eyed, watermelon-headed freak who’s only here for a Modelland sacrificial science project—”
“Stop!” MattJoe intervened. “Save the passion for the War of Words!”
Persimmon spoke. “Make sure Ci~L is assigned the argument
that will aid her best in reform. The one that will please the BellaDonna most.” The circle in the floor opened once more, and Persimmon disappeared.
MattJoe faced the girls and cleared his throat. “Sorry for the interruption, Bellas. Let’s continue where we left off. Okay then, I guess the next debaters have chosen themselves! You there”—he pointed at Tookie—“and you”—he pointed at Zarpessa.
“Oh, I can’t wait,” Zarpessa growled, strutting up to the podium confidently, her shoulders thrown back and her head high.
Tookie froze, petrified. She couldn’t debate Zarpessa. There was no way. She peeked over at Ci~L, who was no longer staring at the floor but directly at Dylan in the same spooky, hypnotized way she’d gazed at Shiraz during the very first Run-a-Way class. She started moving her mouth, chanting inaudibly. Her body rocked steadily.
“She’s practically frothing at the mouth,” Zarpessa whispered from the podium, eyeing Ci~L.
“All right,” MattJoe said. He looked at his roster. “Tookie versus Zarpessa. But let’s add another ingredient—partners!”
He extended his arm again, looking down it like he was aiming a rifle. At first he set his sights on Chaste, but then he decided to continue hunting. He spun around and brightened at Ci~L.
“Bang!” he yelled. “Ci~L. Join Zarpessa.”
Ci~L just stared at him catatonically.
MattJoe looked nervously around the room. “Ci~L,
she’s
probably watching you,” he said in a whisper, clearly meaning the BellaDonna. “You used to ace this course in your sleep. Just get it done.”
Ci~L snapped out of her trance and walked to the podium.
Then Guru MattJoe turned to Dylan. “And, um, the recently
attacked should have a chance to have her say as well against her, uh, oppressor. Dylan, please join Tookie.”
Dylan reluctantly climbed up the steps. She gave Tookie’s hand a nervous squeeze.
MattJoe pointed at Ci~L and Zarpessa. “The topic for this last debate is going to be unusual physicality versus defined beauty. You two will argue that atypical features are superior to conventional beauty.”
“Are you sure?” Ci~L looked skeptical. “That’s exactly the opposite of what you know
she
wants.” Ci~L peered at the BellaDonna bust across the room.
The Guru ignored her, turning next to Tookie and Dylan. “And your team will argue for narrowly defined beauty and that anything else is absolutely worthless. Like the kind of defining we do here at Modelland.”
This should be easy
, Tookie thought. All she has to do was concentrate on Myrracle’s perfect face and speak from her soul.
The girls placed the respective negative and positive tags on their foreheads. Instantly, Tookie shot across the podium and landed forehead to forehead with Ci~L. Dylan was locked to Zarpessa. Their Senturas released from their waists and bound them together as one. Tookie had never been this close to anyone in her life, not even Lizzie. The extreme proximity was beyond uncomfortable.
“War of Words starts …
now!
” MattJoe proclaimed.
Zarpessa jumped right in. “Funny-looking people like you two girls and your mini and pasty friends over there”—she paused, indicating Shiraz and Piper—“deserve to feel attractive too, even when you are nowhere near even
average
-looking and
have everyone at Modelland beyond flummoxed as to why you Unfortunate-Lookings—ULs, for short—are even here. But let me leave you with something positive: you UL’s are beautiful too, even if it’s just way deep down within the depths of your insides. And I mean mining-for
-coal
deep.”
Chaste guffawed in the audience. Tookie’s stomach did its familiar lurch. MattJoe ducked his head, ran his hand over his bald spot, then quickly measured his features once more. “You have a sharp tongue, Miss Zarpessa,” he murmured. “Perhaps it cuts
too
sharply,” he added under his breath, his voice cracking.
He turned to Ci~L. “You’re next.”
Ci~L shut her eyes. For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. Tookie could feel Dylan breathing shallowly beside her.
Then Ci~L’s hair started to blow wildly around her face. She opened her mouth to speak: “Yes, lustrous is your hair,” she began. “Agreed, bewitching is your stare.”
It’s a poem!
Tookie realized. But she was also confused. Ci~L was looking at Zarpessa, not at Tookie and Dylan.
Ci~L continued:
“Perhaps perfection is your snout
.
Queen bees have stung your handsome pout
.
What lies within your cantankerous head:
Infected hard pus in ol’ blackheads
.
Strength be with you, ’pessa, as you fade
whilst the UL’s dance upon your grave.”
When she was finished, Tookie felt the urge to cry and clap at the same time. Unfortunately, her bound wrists prevented her
from applauding. Zarpessa’s eyes narrowed, but then she lowered her gaze and swallowed hard. It looked as though Ci~L had actually
gotten
to her.
MattJoe paused from measuring the squareness of his chin and looked at Tookie and Dylan. “You’re on, Bellas.”
Tookie’s mind raced, and her heart started to beat faster. She gazed at Ci~L in her uncomfortably small uniform. It was clever and generous the way Ci~L had defended Tookie and her friends, but Tookie had a strong gut feeling it was just a consolation prize, a pat on the back before they were inevitably booted out of here or turned into Mannecants. This might be the only time Tookie would be able to tell Ci~L her feelings. And so she took a deep breath, stared into Ci~L’s green eyes, and began to speak in her own special way: in letter form, as though she were writing in her
T-Mail Jail
.
“Dear Ci~L,” she said. “When you chose me on The Day of Discovery, you were my savior. When your hand touched mine and not my sister’s, it was surreal. Suddenly, I wanted something so badly that I never knew I really desired. You’re amazing. You’ve accomplished so much. You stand up for what you believe is right. But I lie awake at night thinking about you. Sometimes I’m confused, sometimes I’m proud of you, and often, I think you are deeply troubled, perhaps even mentally ill. But mostly, I tend to think the latter.
“Zarpessa says she has no idea why my friends and I are here at Modelland. It’s not like I have a clue either. I know people here see a midget and a whale and a ghost and a freak of nature. My friends know it too. Maybe our presence at Modelland is just a big joke. Or something else. A sacrifice.” She paused, glancing up at the room. Her friends visibly shuddered. Zarpessa grinned.
“Maybe this whole place is only in my dreams and none of you really exist. Still, I’m happy here. I’ve never felt better. But there’s a harsh truth I have to face up to: ideal beauty is the only accepted and celebrated kind. Take my sister, Myrracle. Whenever she walks into a room
anywhere
, people lose all self-control, laser focused on making sure she’s taken care of, made comfortable, kept happy. And they don’t even know her.” Tookie paused for a moment. “So that is proof within itself that the definition of beauty is universally narrow. While my sister is worshipped, I am ignored, forgotten, the quintessential Forgetta-Girl. We all have a place in life, and for the majority of mine, that’s all I’ve been. And I think that’s all I’ll ever be.
“Ci~L, Thank you for standing up for me earlier. But please allow me to accept my fate. Your crusade is useless, pointless. Perhaps it’s what is driving you insane.
“From one Unfortunate-Looking girl to one unquestionably ravishing one, Tookie De La Crème.”
Beside her, Dylan gasped. In the audience, Shiraz and Piper held each other, tears in their eyes. The Sentura bindings on their wrists released. Zarpessa, who looked overjoyed, opened her mouth to speak, but Ci~L cleared her throat and spoke over her, venom lacing her voice.
“They have lobotomized you!” she cried, staring straight at Tookie. “We’ve all been brainwashed to think that beauty is this”—she pointed to her own face—“or
that
”—she pointed to Chaste—“or
that
or
that
or
that
!” She pointed in turn to Bibiana, MeLikee, and Zarpessa.
“When in fact, if we reprogram our brainwashed-with-extra-strength-bleach minds, it can be
that
!”—she jabbed her finger
at Shiraz—“and
that
”—she motioned to Piper—“and
this
!” She grabbed hold of Tookie’s face. “And—”
“Fat!”
Dylan screamed.
The class froze. Zarpessa let out a snicker.
“What?” Tookie and Ci~L said at the same time.
“Y’all listen to me right now!” Dylan yelled, trembling. “There may be different types of girls in this room from different countries all over this damn different world. But y’all have ONE thing in common! And I refuse to stand here and state the obvious!” She gestured to her body. “Y’all can debate ‘unique features’ this and ‘atypical looks’ that all damn day long, but what in the hell is unique about
me
? A waist as wide as this damn sphere is round, legs as thick as tree trunks, a butt as big as the Bou-Big-Tique Nation! Oh, ladies, do not waste any more of my precious time with your nonsense word war. Because none of it, not a smidgeon, not a drop, not a damn thing pertains to
me
!”
Ci~L looked enraged. “Dylan, beauty is what we believe it to be. If you would just look in the damn mirror, girl, you’d appreciate—”
“That’s where you’re dead wrong, Ci~L!” Dylan’s lips were quivering uncontrollably. “You may be right about one thing, that beauty is what we believe it to be, but that’s from the neck up! And you know it!”
Ci~L shook her head. “Oh, so, you’re going to give up that easily, coward? You’re just as bad as
they
are! You have to
defend
your body!
To the death, if you have to!
”
“Shut up, Ci~L! Just shut. The hell. UP!”
Dylan ripped the plus sign off of her head and ran to the circle outline in the floor. She frantically jumped up and down on it until it finally glided open, sucking her out of the classroom’s sphere.
“Dylan!” Tookie, Piper, and Shiraz yelled.
But Dylan was gone.
Guru MattJoe pressed a palm over his eyes. “Tookie, your partner has committed acts of insolent yelling, unsavory language, and departing class before being dismissed. But that being said, your arguments, well, they were the most eloquent speeches I’ve heard in quite some time. Your words cut so close, got to the root of what we all feel—well,
many
of us feel, anyway. Yep, yep.” He paused to nervously clear his throat. “Well done, my dear. Tookie, you have won your first War of Words.”
Tookie barely heard Guru MattJoe congratulating her. The circle had opened again. “Dylan?” she cried, rushing toward it. But it was Persimmon. She stalked right up to Guru MattJoe.
“You let her spout her sickening poems without doing anything about it?” she hissed at the Guru. “How dare you! While we work overtime to reform Ci~L, your lackadaisical attitude has regressed her reprogramming by a fortnight! You know
who
you will have to answer to for this.”
Guru MattJoe turned away, looking guilty but satisfied. Persimmon re-dressed Ci~L in the gray Ugly Room jumpsuit and replaced the muzzle on her face.