Times Squared by Julia DeVillers Page B

“Wow, I knew you were a Fashlynn wannabe but, whoa. How embarrassing. Don’t you even have any clothes of your own?”
    Yes. Yes, I did. But I wanted to wear my coolest clothes, the ones that would fit in NYC best. Which of course were Ashlynn’s shirt, jeans, and . . .
    Oh no, I realized, this would only get worse. The dress I had brought to wear to the show tonight? Also Ashlynn’s.
    At least when I was Summer Slave I’d gotten clothes for it. But as Stage Slave I would get nothing.
    I needed to do it. I needed stand up for myself, once and for all. I closed my eyes so I couldn’t see her smirking at me. I took a deep breath.
    â€œAshlynn,” I said.
    â€œAshlynn!” a voice also said at the same time. Louder and more forceful than mine, that’s for sure.
    I opened my eyes. I had a quick glimpse of a woman in black sticking her head in the door. But that’s all I saw of her because my attention went elsewhere fast.
    â€œThey are driving me up a wall,” the woman said. “The dog walker didn’t show again. Here they are.”
    â€œThey” were three little poofballs that she popped through the door. One. Two. Three!
    Three little fluffy dogs! All of them were little, white fluffballs.
    â€œOh, how cute,” I said.
    And oh, how . . . spazzy! They were yapping and running right at me. And then three poofballs were jumping all over my legs.
    â€œMother!” Ashlynn yelled.
    â€œI’ll be back after my nail appointment,” the woman said. “Ta-ta.”
    â€œUm, down, girls!” I said. “Or boys.”
    They were jumping all over and licking my jeans. And my sneakers. And . . . I saw a little orange dust on one of the dogs.
    Oh yeah—the cheese-puff explosion! The dogs were going crazy licking the cheese puff crumbs from my clothes.
    And not just licking, chewing. And ouch—biting.
    â€œA little help here?” I said. “Ashlynn? Random dogs are attacking me?”
    â€œThey’re not random,” Ashlynn said, calmly applying lip gloss. “They’re mine.”
    I leaned down to pull one off my shoe. And another one jumped up and latched on to my hair.
    â€œYour dog is attached to my head!” I said. “Can you please call your dogs off?”
    â€œDown, Bebe,” Ashlynn said in a bored voice. “Down, Barbra. Down, LeaMichele.”
    The dogs jumped even crazier. Yeesh. They didn’t listen to her and they didn’t even acknowledge her. But they were all over me. And they were really cute, even though seriously insane.
    Then one of the dogs rolled onto her back and panted at me.
    â€œOh, cute,” I said. “I’ll scritch your belly if you don’t eat my head.”
    I started scritching her belly. Then the other two dropped in front of me also.
    Suddenly I was scritching three dog bellies.
    â€œThey’re totally annoying,” Ashlynn said. “I got them because I saw this Mera Padley bag? And I found out it was a dog carrier. So I got some dogs. But they won’t all fit in the bag, so it was useless.”
    â€œAshlynn, they’re so cute,” I said. “Come here. Scratch a belly.”
    â€œUk, no,” Ashlynn said. “They’re getting fur all over your—my—TC Couture T-shirt.”
    Her cell phone rang.
    â€œYes.” Ashlynn rolled her eyes. “Fine. I said, Fine.”
    Ashlynn hung up and turned to me.
    â€œTime for your grand tour,” Ashlynn said.
    â€œOh!” I said. Cool! A tour! Maybe she was just kidding about me being her Stage Slave, after all. Or at least, whoever was on the phone told her to be nice to me?
    Whatever. I’d take it.
    â€œFollow me,” Ashlynn said.
    Ooh, where were we going? A rehearsal area? The dressing rooms? The costume room?
    I stood up and tried to brush fur/cheese puff dust off of me. The dogs started running around in circles, yapping