#3 Turn Up for Real (2 page)

Granted, the pageant wasn't supposed to start for another four hours, but I had to be there early. Usually when someone in our family had something big going on all of us got excited, all of us supported, and all of us made a big deal out of it. This wasn't just some random talent show I was entering. This was the big Miss Teen Charlotte Pageant.

“What time does the thing start?” Sloan said in a voice that was hardly interested in going.

I answered, “One.”

Sloan vented, “Well, it's morning. Bye!”

All of them were growling like they were bears ready to hibernate for the winter, so I just said forget it and went upstairs to pack up to leave. I had a sour face, but as soon as I opened the door to my bedroom, there was my mom holding up a garment bag.

“My baby girl's gonna be so cute today! I had to get you this number.” She unzipped the garment bag, and the sparkly, strapless, silver gown was stunning.

“I didn't think you were going to get me a new one,” I said as my eyes teared up. “I honestly didn't think anyone cared.”

“I know we've got a lot going on around here. I know we've had one crazy thing after another, particularly with this election, but Slade, I hear you. You told me a few weeks ago that you needed a new evening gown, and you didn't want to recycle what your sister wore to the prom last year. Let's be clear, though. You're a junior. You're wearing this new number to the prom this year.”

“Okay, Mom! No problem!” I said in a truly happy tone.

“I'll be ready to take you in about fifteen minutes. When it's over, you can ride home with us. Knowing your dad, there's probably going to be some event that we're going to have to attend. I can't believe we're a month away from the election!”

“He's going to win, Mom,” I said, reassuring her.

She wrapped an arm around me and squeezed as if I was cold. “I've got a feeling he's going to win too. And Slade, if you think we're under the microscope now, well it's going to be magnified if he is mayor. Until he actually wins, I'm just taking it day by day. With elections, things get nasty, and who knows what somebody will do to derail his bid.”

“Yeah, but who's going to win if he doesn't? Mr. Brown, the Republican? Everyone's talking about how he's a womanizer and doesn't have a chance.”

My mom looked at me like I shouldn't say such things, but it was the truth. My birthday was at the end of the month on Halloween, and I'd be seventeen years old. She needed to stop trying to shield me from stuff.

“And then the other guy who's the independent, does he even have a following?” I asked, showing my mom I wasn't just a cute face.

“He's gaining momentum. A lot of the Republicans are putting their support behind him, but don't worry about any of this political stuff. You just get pretty, princess. You're going to win tonight!”

I loved how she supported me. She made me feel like I could do anything. She was always pumping me up—well, except she didn't think singing was a real dream.

Thirty minutes later, my confidence waned. When I arrived at the historic Renaissance Theater, there were twenty-three other girls competing for the crown already there. Twenty-four of us total—the largest number of contestants that this pageant has had in a while. We'd been practicing over the past few months, but this was the big day. I kept to myself. That was just my M.O. With everything going on in my family, I felt more comfortable making sure that people liked me for me and not for whose daughter I was.

It wasn't just a pageant. We'd actually been going through different classes to refine us. We had a modeling workshop, an etiquette session, a public speaking workshop, and a fashion do's and don'ts time. In addition, we'd been doing public service projects. We spent time at the old folk's home and with little kids at nursery schools.

I thought I had the pageant on lock. The problem was that we weren't able to see each other's talent, but when we were at the old folk's home last week, another contestant, Miss-Prim-and-Prissy Charlotte Ray, struck a chord. I was blown away when I heard her sing so great for them and had been trying ever since to step up my game. Now that it was the day of the show, it was time to compete, to show what I was made of, and to be ready to give it my all, but my vocal cords were acting up.

“Oh my gosh, I can't compete,” I said, pacing back and forth.

I didn't even realize Charlotte was listening. “I got a tea bag, and in this lunch pail is an emergency kit,” she said. “Honey, a dab of apple cider vinegar, and some cinnamon. Go put all of this in some hot water, and you'll be fine. If that doesn't work, we can always pray.”

“You'd pray for me?” I asked her, feeling bad that I'd been so jealous of her.

“Yeah. You're the stiffest competition in this thing. If you don't compete, I won't get any props if I win. And if I don't win, I'd certainly want the winner to be you. I've heard you sing. You're phenomenal.”

“I'm phenomenal?” I said to her, still in dis-belief. “You're amazing.”

“Yeah, but I can't answer the questions like you can. It's like I know what I want to say. My dad's been interviewing me around the house, I should be good at it by now. He's the superintendent of the schools, for goodness sake, and that's all he's been doing is grilling me, but I still can't seem to nail the questions. I think that's going to get me today.”

“Your dad's the superintendent of schools for Charlotte city schools?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn't know because I was in private school, but now I'm at Marks.”

“That's where I go. Everybody who is anybody is a Maverick,” Charlotte said.

“I haven't seen you around,” I said.

“We've only been at school for two months. I think I've seen you or a girl who looks like you. I don't know.”

“That was probably one of my sisters.”

“Oh, I wish I had sisters. I have two brothers. One older and one younger. Having sisters would be heaven.”

“Stick with the brothers. A ton of sisters is drama.”

“You're funny,” she said to me. “Isn't it crazy? We've been in the same place for some months now, and we've never talked. Most of the girls here paired up. I've seen you alone sometimes, and I wanted to come over and say something to you, but I know how pageants and stuff can be, so I tried once and you looked away. I guess I just felt like you didn't want to be bothered, but is it bad that I'm glad your throat was trippin'?” Charlotte asked.

“Yes. That's the opposite of you saying you wish I was okay. That's what you said a few minutes ago, but I didn't think it was real because this is a competition,” I said, truly skeptical and needing her to explain.

“No, I meant that, but I'm saying if your throat wasn't hurting, then we never would've got a chance to talk. I think you're cool, and hopefully you think I'm cool. We go to the same school, so who knows? Maybe this could be the start of a friendship.”

Then Ms. Easley, the pageant director, came in.

“Girls, we don't have time for chitter-chatter. You all need to get dressed in opening outfits. We're going to do a run-through.”

This was the first time that I got to see Charlotte do her thing on the stage. That girl was posing really cute on the runway. I started out cheering for her until she started her talent. When she sung, she had choreography, and it was like a Broadway stage play. It wasn't some hip-hop number like mine. Hers was more meaningful. I just knew I was going to lose.

Three hours later the two of us were standing backstage, getting ready to go out as the two finalists of Miss Teen Charlotte. It was coming down to the questions, and Charlotte was so nervous that she was shaking, and her face was turning pale. The competitor in me vanished. I grabbed her and made her cold body warm as I rubbed her bare shoulders.

“You can do this,” I shared. “Whatever they ask you, take in the question. Think of why you want this so bad and nail it.”

We were both standing on stage. She did nail the question, and after hearing her answer the question really well, when I was asked the same one, I stuttered. She was crowned Miss Teen Charlotte, and I rushed off stage, feeling like I'd just been played.

“Slade! You can't run off the stage, sweetie. You've got to go congratulate the other girls,” my mother said, finding me backstage and telling me what I needed to hear, but not what I wanted her to say.

“But Mom—Dad running for mayor—his daughter winner of Miss Teen Charlotte; what a story that was supposed to be. I let him down. I let him down,” I repeated, upset.

My mom stroked my cheek and said, “Slade, are you serious, sweetheart? We're proud of you that you got up there. Don't put more on yourself than what needs to be there.”

Pulling away from her touch, I huffed, “You don't understand. You've always got everything you've tried for.”

“Sweetheart, what are you talking about?” she uttered with compassion.

“When we were at Grandma's house this summer, she showed us the pictures. You were Miss Duke University, and then you went on to be Miss North Carolina in the Miss America pageant.”

Placing her arm around me, she would not quit trying to encourage me. “Yes, but I didn't win Miss America. You're not even out of high school. You want to go to college and get in another pageant? That's fine, and it's absolutely nothing wrong with coming in first runner-up.”

“I'm not going back out there, Mom.”

Then the pagent director started yelling. “Where's the first runner-up? I've never had that happen. Every girl knows there's a possibility that she won't win.
She
doesn't win, and she runs off my stage.”

“Here she is, Ms. Easley, ready to go back out there,” my mom said as she spun me around, pulled my gown so that it was perfect again, quickly wiped my face, and hugged me tight. He whispered, “Get your tail out there.”

Reluctantly I walked back on stage. Though the pageant was over, all the girls were surrounding Charlotte. I hadn't given her a hug. I hadn't congratulated her, and I never thought I had a bad attitude. I wasn't a good sport, but I guess until you don't get something that you really want, you'll never know how you'll act. I wasn't the only one pouting. Girls couldn't even tell me congratulations for being first runner-up. I could hear them saying, “It should've been me as first runner-up. She only got that far because of her father,” but I wanted to go all of the way. Now, I had to smile at the queen coming up to me.

“You helped me, and now I've got the crown,” Charlotte hugged me and said. “I'm sure it's bittersweet. So thank you.”

“Congratulations.” I yanked the word out of my mouth. I said all the right things to Charlotte, but then I dashed to the corner off stage under some stairs and just balled my eyes out. I tried to keep my emotions in check, but my dream wasn't going to be realized, and that hurt—like I'd been stabbed over and over and over again. It just felt like I was losing blood and didn't know how to save myself. And then, I heard this husky, male, tenor voice singing the old tune “You Are So Beautiful” to me.