“Exactly!” I said. I did a couple of pirouettes. Maybe positive energy could distract from what I was missing. “Is this better than good old Grapey? How does my butt look?”
“Umm. Hmmm,” said Judijean.
Maggie crossed her arms and looked down at the floor.
“When you’re on the show, I wouldn’t use expressions like ‘good old Grapey’ if I were you,” said Rachel quietly.
“Good point, tone down the nerdiness. No offense, Em,” said Lauren.
“Okay you two, I get it! So what do you think of the suit?” I asked. It was starting to occur to me that perhaps I already was the group’s Judijean. This meant I was going to be even more doomed amongst reality TV women. My confidence was plummeting. The idea of being on television was getting scarier and scarier.
“I don’t think any of us realized how flat you are,” said Betsy.
“You’re my best friends. You never noticed? Really?” I reached for a nearby blanket and wrapped it around me, wishing the fashion show was over.
“I think I have a solution to your problem,” said Lauren, going over to the bags she’d brought along and pulling out a plain black bra. She held it up and began her presentation: “Attention! Everybody stop talking. Betsy, please remain seated. Okay, Emma, this bra is going to be your best friend. It’s inflatable, and I think it looks like a swimsuit top. Don’t you all think so? Close enough, right? I have two more of these. One is red and the other is pink and really lacy, but you could just pretend it’s a lacy swimsuit top. If you mix and match these with different bottoms, it will end up looking like a bunch of different swimsuits. Try it on,” she said, handing it to me.
I wasn’t about to argue after the non-response I’d just gotten, so I took it back into the bathroom and examined it. Each side had a tiny button inside that said Pump me. I pressed each button five times, watching the cups inflate. Then, just for good measure, I pressed each button five more times. Wow! I was impressed! I switched out my bikini top for the bra and checked myself out in the mirror. To me, it looked like two small flotation devices were strapped to my chest, but I went out to get my (so-called) friends’ opinions.
“Much better,” said Rachel
“S
o much better,” said Lauren.
Judijean just nodded. She looked a little skeptical.
“Are you sure?” I asked, turning to Betsy and Maggie.
“It’s your only solution,” said Maggie.
“She’s right. Not a perfect fix, but better than having nothing at all,” said Betsy.
“If I was French, I’d embrace my flatness. Wouldn’t it be better to just, you know… be myself maybe?”
“Non,” said Maggie.
“Will Bellamy be disappointed if he realizes these aren’t real?”
“You little slut,” squealed Lauren. “How’s he going to figure that out?”
“Knowing how slowly you take things, you’ll be engaged by the time he realizes there is nothing there,” said Betsy.
“What we’re trying to say is, by the time he realizes anything, he will like you too much to care,” said Judijean.
“And he will thank you for not embarrassing him on television by showing people how flat you truly are,” said Lauren. “Like, if you two get married, and who you are starts to be a reflection on him.”
I sighed. “Okay. I will wear inflatable bras on national television in front of millions of people and pretend they’re swimwear. I’d better go now. I have tons more stuff to do before I leave.” Honestly, all I could think about was hanging out with Pete.
My friends helped me load up more gowns, shoes, swimwear, jeans, and sundresses than any normal woman would need in a lifetime, and Judijean even helped me take it all back to my apartment. As I hugged her goodbye I suddenly became sad. Homesick, almost.
“I can’t believe I might be gone for months,” I said.
“Let’s hope you are,” she said.
“And maybe even longer. I mean, probably not, but who knows?”
“Bellamy’s going to be crazy about you,” she said. “And you’ll be great. You two will definitely end up together. I can feel it in my gut.”