Modelland (49 page)

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Authors: Tyra Banks

BOOK: Modelland
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“Isn’t she lovely?” Gunnero cooed. “A deer-widow caught in Webb-lights! She may be a brat, but our Zar also may be a star.”

The scoreboard delivered its verdict:

Modelland: Zarpessa, 92 points. Bestosterone: Webb, 25 points
.

“Oooo, ninety-two,” Gunnero announced. “Sorry, Chaste, but our little tarantu
-pessa
got you beat. Up next … Crazy Eyes—I mean Tookie from Modelland! And …”

Tookie eyed Bravo on the other side of the OrbArena. All of a sudden, her trembling hands went still. Her heart thudded, full of blood and adrenaline.
You’re powerFUL
, she told herself.
And you’re going to let Bravo and all those other Bestosterone brats see that. You’re going to Kick. His. Ass!

“… beauteous Bravo from Bestosterone!” Gunnero finished.

Tookie lurched out onto the plank like a tiger sprung from its cage. Bravo stepped out on his side. His hunched posture made him look self-conscious in his couture ManAttack underwear.

“Tookie and Bravo?” Gunnero crowed. “The Beast and the Beauty, right? Theme? Queen versus Court. Court wants to overthrow Queen and steal her crown and jewels. Bravo, you can steal my family jewels any day.…”

The piercing buzzer sounded. Tookie and Bravo ran down the plank toward each other at top speed. Bravo stretched out his hand. Ten feet away … six feet … three feet … and then … 
Contact!
Tookie’s arm hooked Bravo across the neck, throwing him off the plank headfirst. The crowd gasped. Bravo’s head was an inch from the ground, and then he was yanked back up by the antigravity pull of the OrbArena.

“Crazy Eyes may not just
look
crazy …,” Gunnero trilled.

The crowd let out a mix of cheers and boos—but Bravo was obviously the favorite. As the antigravity pushed Bravo back to the plank, he shot Tookie a look of surrender. But Tookie glared at him, years of pain and rage bubbling up inside of her. No way was she was backing down. Not after she found out she was nothing but a
bet
.

“Phase two … Wardrobe!” Gunnero crowed.

A crown whipped toward Tookie, hitting her square in the face. The force knocked her backward. Then a queen’s dress with a Jeremy Jurk label pelted her leg. Next came a ruby-encrusted bracelet that was as long as her entire arm. She struggled to put the bracelet on.

“Stop!” Tookie moaned, kicking and thrashing at the clothing and crown. A blazer embellished with an armor breastplate
punched Tookie in the stomach. She floated awkwardly away from the plank. Bravo grabbed her waist and pulled her back onto the plank.

Gunnero snickered. “Bella girls, that fire you smell? It’s your representative from Modelland, and she’s being barbequed … going down in flames. Me? I’ll have a hot dog. Plain, without the bun, please …”

Tookie squirmed away from Bravo’s aid. When she turned around again, Bravo wore the blazer of armor with no shirt and a royal soldier’s helmet made of wool. He looked so handsome her insides did a flip. But reality kicked back in quickly
—the bet
. She puckered her lips.

“What are you doing?” Bravo whispered.

“Giving you your first smacker from me,” she teased. “Oh, come on, Bravo, baby, close your eyes!”

He did. Tookie brought her ruby-braceleted arm behind her, clenched her fist, and hit Bravo in the face.

“Ooh, baby, does it feel good?” she yelled, a crazed look in her eyes.

A penalty horn sounded.

“Minus five points before Maquillage?” Gunnero tsked. “That’s one bitter queen!”

“Kick her in the head, Bravo!” Webb yelled from the audience. “That should be an easy target to hit!”

Bravo stood and gaped at Tookie. Blood dripped from his nose. “I’m not a punching bag, Tookie!”

“And
I
am
not
a joke!” Tookie screamed.

The blue and red explosive Maki Balls appeared. In frustration, Bravo kicked them to the ends of the plank, away from him and Tookie. But they bounced right back up.

“Kicking the Maki Balls? Ouch! Ten points off Bravo!” Gunnero admonished.

“Tookie, you have to get dressed!” Bravo urged. “Put something on!” He gestured to the floating clothes around her head.

“Why the heck are you helping me?” Tookie snapped. “I don’t need your pity. I’m nothing but a bet to you!” She grabbed one of the Maki Balls and rubbed it. Lip gloss spilled out, and she smeared it on her lips. “My first kiss, Bravo—my
real
first kiss? Know what it’s going to be?”

He paused, waiting.

“It’s going to be under a perfect sunset, near a garden of golden flowers spreading as far as the eye can see,” Tookie said, making it up as she went along. “The lucky guy who will get to pucker with my suckers will be wearing a … tuxedo. And … and he’s going to sing to me a song he wrote, and he’ll … dance to it. It needs to make me laugh and make me cry.”

Bravo blinked. “Are you for real?”

“Hell yeah, I’m for real! Then he will open up his shirt like a superhero,” she went on. “On his chest will be written
Tookie, you are the most amazing girl I have ever laid eyes on. And I can’t decide which I love more, your green or your brown eye
. Then he’ll have to touch my face gently with both hands.” Her eyes spilled newer, fresher tears. “And he’ll kiss my forehead, both of my cheeks, and then my nose. Then he’ll spray whipped cream straight into my mouth and then his. And then he’ll part his mouth just a little and press his lips against mine. And for me, it will feel like the kiss will never end. Because it won’t. It will go on forever. And it will be
amazing
!”

Tookie’s chest was heaving. Between sobs, she was having difficulty catching her breath.

Bravo just stared. Suddenly, the photo Gyro came to life, bucking and weaving around them. The countdown began.

“Z … Y … X …”

Bravo moved closer to Tookie. “I want you to win. Mess me up really bad, okay? I don’t care how hard you go at me. Throw a Maki Ball at me.”

“Don’t take any more pity on me!” Tookie roared.

“But I
haven’t
,” Bravo said. “I’ve never pitied you.”

“You’re a big fat devious liar!” Furious, Tookie plopped the queenly couture crown on her head but held on to it.
I
should
throw it at him
. She held it in her hand, debating what to do.

“… S … R … P …”

Bravo sank to his knees. “You realize, Tookie, that even if you throw that crown at me, you’ll still lose. But there is one way you can win.”

“What?”

“Maki Balls. Two of them.”

“… N … M …”

“Activate them,” he urged. “Then I’ll take them both and hold on to them.”

Tookie stared curiously at him. “You’ll lose fifty points.”

“And you’ll get them.”

“… I …”

She placed her hands on her hips. “Why are you doing this, Bravo? Feeling guilty?”

“… H …”

“A little bit,” Bravo said. “You … you deserve better than me, Tookie.”

“… G …”

Tookie stared at him, a whole new kind of rage boiling inside
her. “I deserve better? Damn right I deserve better! And there
is
better than you, Bravo—believe it or not. Theophilus Lovelaces!”

The crowd fell silent. But suddenly, from the wings, Zarpessa let out a shriek. “Theophilus?
My
Theophilus?”

Bravo blinked hard at Tookie. “Who’s Theophilus? D-do you have some other dude at home?”

“He’s not tall and not a pouting Bestostero pretty boy like you. Girls everywhere don’t scream out that they want his babies. But he’s
better
than you, Bravo. Smarter than you.”

“Is
that
why you’re leaving?” Bravo whispered. “Because you wanna be with
him?

Tookie turned away. If Bravo wanted to think that, then let him.

Bravo shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you, girl. And just so you know, there was
never
a bet. I just said that because I was pissed at you—because you used me and I wanted to hurt you back. But now I think there
should
have been.”

Tookie blinked at him. Could he be telling the truth?

“… F …”

Bravo’s salted-caramel eyes looked so sincere. His lips were still moving, but Tookie couldn’t hear a word over the roar of the crowd. She tried to emblazon him in her memory. A person who could seem so genuine but totally fool you. Just like Ci~L had.

“Tookie,” Bravo said, “just pick up the damn Maki Balls and get this over with.”

Without a word, she picked up a red Maki Ball, her touch activating it. Tingly jolts of electricity tickled her palms. Instead of blush or lipstick, though, streaks of yellow liquid appeared on her fingers.
That’s weird … is it the body oil Bravo was talking about?
But that was supposed to be in the
blue
Maki Balls
. The liquid began to solidify and then buzzed in her hands. Was it about to explode?

She stared at the peculiar half-liquid/half-solid substance. The buzzing turned into convulsions, and then, gradually, the substance formed into a cellophane-thin sheet. The object was now rising and falling as if it was alive. Tookie’s mouth dropped open.
Is this …?

“A SMIZE!” Gunnero called. “Hot damn, we haven’t had one of those little babies appear in our Maki Balls for quite some time! It’s a lucky charm, Crazy Eyes! Cover those loony peepers of yours and put your spectators’ eyes out of their misery!”

Slowly, Tookie put the SMIZE on her face. The moment it touched her skin, she felt a jolt in her heart. Her head cleared and filled with an incredible pulsing energy.
So this is what a SMIZE feels like
, she thought, feeling stronger and more powerful than ever before. She felt beyond special—as if a switch had been turned on, illuminating her from the inside and dimming everyone else.

Her senses were on fire. Each breath Bravo took reached her ears. Her taste buds were flooded with every delectable whipped cream she’d ever tasted. Neon colors dazzled her eyes, and the air smelled like lime and crushed mint, island coconut and rosemary and buttercream frosting.

Tookie felt—no, she
was
—intoxicating. Waves of words flowed into her brain.

Magnifique. Omorfos. Vacker. Schön. Mei-li. Mooie. Guapa. Sundar. Maganda. Chachowww. Belle
. Hundreds of words coming from the SMIZE that all meant the same majestic, wonderful, marvelous, magnificent, mind-blowing thing.

Beautiful
.

As she turned to Bravo, his jaw dropped.

“Oh. My. God,” he said, staring at her, transfixed. When Tookie looked into the crowd, everyone else was gawking at her too. Even Webb, Alexander, and O’Neil. Even Zarpessa, who, like the other Bellas, paled in comparison to Tookie’s ravishing glow. Even Gunnero looked spellbound as he whispered “Whoa … Super Modelland Eyes …” into the microphone.

Then Bravo stood, took the second red Maki Ball from Tookie’s hands, and placed it on his chest. The Maki Ball rose and fell with his fast breath.

“… E …”

Tookie watched him. The Ball’s beeps quickened.

“… D …”

She stood over Bravo. In the few remaining seconds, she placed her hand near her mouth, stuck out her tongue, and licked her thumb ever so slowly. Then she leaned down, glared into Bravo’s eyes, and wiped each of his eyebrows with it. It felt good.
Vengeful
.

With three big leaps, she was back near her end of the plank.

Kaboom!
The Maki Ball exploded, spraying its contents all over Bravo, covering him in bright, garish color.

“… C … B …”

In what seemed like the millisecond that Tookie had remaining, she ran back to Bravo and stood over him, and remembering her CaraCaraCara lessons, she made her face express the exact opposite of what she was feeling.

She smiled.

Bravo turned his face
away
from the camera.

SNAP!

The Gyro’s image floated above the OrbArena.

For Modelland: Tookie, 106 points. For Bestosterone: Bravo, 19 points
.

“Is that thing broken?” Gunnero cried. “It beauty-is-pains me to say this, but you all have just witnessed the greatest turnaround in ManAttack history! Tookie from Modelland has scored 106 points, Run-a-Way-ing past her competitors! Tookie is … ugh, it hurts … our, uh … new champion.”

“I won?” Tookie asked incredulously. “Are you serious? I won?”

Suddenly, a high-pitched scream rang from the crowd. “She fainted! Oh my God, that big girl fainted!”

Dylan!

And then the OrbArena went dark.

Pitch-black.

It was time
.

38
L
EFT
, R
IGHT
, L
EFT

It sounded like the whole OrbArena was screaming. There were clangs, then shouts, then a blaring fire alarm. Tookie blinked in the darkness. She couldn’t see a thing.

A voice yelled in her ear. “Is me! Shiraz. Come. I see perfect!”

Shiraz grabbed Tookie and led her off the plank, back through the Prep Zone, and down to the ground. As she hit the earth, she felt the SMIZE flutter away from her face. She tried to grab for it, but the rice-paper-thin talisman had disappeared into the darkness. “Where are the others?” she whispered.

“Here!” two voices said in unison. It was Dylan and Piper.

Inside, panicking ManAttack spectators pushed and
screamed. Shiraz muscled through an unnoticed door and the girls stumbled through it. Tookie looked back at the OrbArena. The rumbling of trapped spectators practically shook the steel struts. “We created this chaos,” she cried. “We can’t just leave them in there!”

“We gotta get outta here now,” Dylan said. “We made an opportunity. Now we gotta take it!”

“Not only did I find out where the switch was,” Piper said as she panted, out of breath, “I found the emergency ZipZap too. It’s exactly where you said it was. C’mon!”

They ran to the stadium. Now completed, it was massive. Its elaborate architecture cast eye-patterned reflections on the ground. The girls scampered up a path cordoned off by a metal banner, across which scrolled blinking words that read
NO ENTRY UNTIL THE
7
SEVEN TOURNAMENT!
Making sure no one saw them, Tookie and her friends scooted around the blockade. Before she went into the stadium, Tookie turned back, exhaled, and took one final look at Modelland.
Goodbye, Kamalini. Goodbye, Guru Lauro. Goodbye, Dr. Erica. Goodbye, Bravo.…

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