down my mini from the micro end. “Hi, I’m Pashmina Purrstein.”
“You’re one of the house leaders, right?” she asks rhetorically, her eyes darting around at the other students coming out of the building.
“Yes,” I say proudly.
“We knew she would get elected,” Aphro chimes in. “True talent always rises above the din of the sales bin!”
I keep the Silly Putty smile plastered on my face despite the fact that Aphro sounds like one of the shady fabric merchants on Orchard Street—desperate to move bolts of raw silk that will unravel as soon as you get them home.
Caterina smiles faintly, then cuts right to
her
yardage requirements. “I’d like to get you on camera.”
I freeze, but luckily my lips move. “Abso—um, yeah … of course,” I say, fussing with my headband again.
“Not now,” Caterina clarifies, excusing herself; then she whispers to Jay and a tall guy crouched next to metal cases of camera equipment. After she finishes, the tall one comes over. “By the way, I’m Boom,” he says, extending his hand. I wonder what they’re up to, but the way Boom cracks a smile puts me at ease.
“I’d like to schedule some time with you—I’m interviewing all the house leaders,” Caterina says firmly.
“Um, okay. We can do it tomorrow, whenever you want. We can meet in Studio One downstairs—right next to the Hall of Fame?” I offer.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to see you in your natural habitat first. This is the more candid up-close-and-personal take before we get into the nuts and bolts—of fabric—of the competition,” Caterina continues. I can tell she’s trying to make a joke because she senses my hesitation.
“Nuts is right,” I joke back, then get embarrassed that Caterina might get the wrong impression of me.
“Look, it’s just establishing shots,” Caterina continues, using production lingo. “I already have an appointment with Shalimar Jackson. We’re going over to her apartment to tape her at seven o’clock while she holds a meeting for her social club.”
Now my apprehension is bona fried. Shalimar is going to be shot in her Limoges-laden penthouse with the members of a
bourgie
-woogie organization, all of whom go to private schools like Huxley, Baumgiddy and Tense. That makes the fur on the back of my neck stand at attention.
“Um, okay. Lemme check with my mother first,” I say, stalling. “I know she usually has her bridge club on Wednesday nights. I’ll call you on the cell as soon as I clear the schedule?”
Caterina hands me her card, and I scribble my cell number on a page and tear it out of my Kitty notebook. “I look forward to it,” she says.
After they leave, Aphro says, “You are so shady.”
“What was I supposed to say—Spades?” I quip. Spades is a card game that my mother plays with gusto, but Hector, her quasi boyfriend, hasn’t been around lately for her to even do that. Aphro and I played with them once, since it requires four players.
“What’s the name of Shalimar’s social club again—Hansel and Gretel?” I ask sarcastically.
“Jack and Jill,” answers Aphro. “You got elected house leader for a reason. You don’t have to front for anybody.”
“Yeah, but you gotta come over.”
“Let her come over Thursday. I mean, you did invite Ice Très,” Aphro points out.
“Now, that’s a plan.” Why not have the Teen Style Network shoot us while we’re having our first prestrategy meeting? “I mean, we gotta get the Catwalk flyer together to post on Friday.”
Now that the Catwalk house leaders have been chosen, I have to begin interviewing and snagging some more fierce members for our house.
“You’re definitely gonna help me with some cat-worthy choreography?” I ask Aphro, getting ten poses ahead of myself.
“I got you,” Aphro says as she reflects on the bold moves from the pose-off. “Did you see Elgamela? I didn’t know anybody could do that with their belly button.”
“Too bad she
“You’re one of the house leaders, right?” she asks rhetorically, her eyes darting around at the other students coming out of the building.
“Yes,” I say proudly.
“We knew she would get elected,” Aphro chimes in. “True talent always rises above the din of the sales bin!”
I keep the Silly Putty smile plastered on my face despite the fact that Aphro sounds like one of the shady fabric merchants on Orchard Street—desperate to move bolts of raw silk that will unravel as soon as you get them home.
Caterina smiles faintly, then cuts right to
her
yardage requirements. “I’d like to get you on camera.”
I freeze, but luckily my lips move. “Abso—um, yeah … of course,” I say, fussing with my headband again.
“Not now,” Caterina clarifies, excusing herself; then she whispers to Jay and a tall guy crouched next to metal cases of camera equipment. After she finishes, the tall one comes over. “By the way, I’m Boom,” he says, extending his hand. I wonder what they’re up to, but the way Boom cracks a smile puts me at ease.
“I’d like to schedule some time with you—I’m interviewing all the house leaders,” Caterina says firmly.
“Um, okay. We can do it tomorrow, whenever you want. We can meet in Studio One downstairs—right next to the Hall of Fame?” I offer.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to see you in your natural habitat first. This is the more candid up-close-and-personal take before we get into the nuts and bolts—of fabric—of the competition,” Caterina continues. I can tell she’s trying to make a joke because she senses my hesitation.
“Nuts is right,” I joke back, then get embarrassed that Caterina might get the wrong impression of me.
“Look, it’s just establishing shots,” Caterina continues, using production lingo. “I already have an appointment with Shalimar Jackson. We’re going over to her apartment to tape her at seven o’clock while she holds a meeting for her social club.”
Now my apprehension is bona fried. Shalimar is going to be shot in her Limoges-laden penthouse with the members of a
bourgie
-woogie organization, all of whom go to private schools like Huxley, Baumgiddy and Tense. That makes the fur on the back of my neck stand at attention.
“Um, okay. Lemme check with my mother first,” I say, stalling. “I know she usually has her bridge club on Wednesday nights. I’ll call you on the cell as soon as I clear the schedule?”
Caterina hands me her card, and I scribble my cell number on a page and tear it out of my Kitty notebook. “I look forward to it,” she says.
After they leave, Aphro says, “You are so shady.”
“What was I supposed to say—Spades?” I quip. Spades is a card game that my mother plays with gusto, but Hector, her quasi boyfriend, hasn’t been around lately for her to even do that. Aphro and I played with them once, since it requires four players.
“What’s the name of Shalimar’s social club again—Hansel and Gretel?” I ask sarcastically.
“Jack and Jill,” answers Aphro. “You got elected house leader for a reason. You don’t have to front for anybody.”
“Yeah, but you gotta come over.”
“Let her come over Thursday. I mean, you did invite Ice Très,” Aphro points out.
“Now, that’s a plan.” Why not have the Teen Style Network shoot us while we’re having our first prestrategy meeting? “I mean, we gotta get the Catwalk flyer together to post on Friday.”
Now that the Catwalk house leaders have been chosen, I have to begin interviewing and snagging some more fierce members for our house.
“You’re definitely gonna help me with some cat-worthy choreography?” I ask Aphro, getting ten poses ahead of myself.
“I got you,” Aphro says as she reflects on the bold moves from the pose-off. “Did you see Elgamela? I didn’t know anybody could do that with their belly button.”
“Too bad she
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