Vanessa's Fashion Face-Off by Jo Whittemore Page B

me a few years,” I told my friends. “When my designs make it out into the world, I will be charging for my time.”
    Ever the dreamer.
    When school ended for the day, I rushed to the auditorium but lingered at the entrance, pokingmy head inside. The place was empty, and the drama club wouldn’t show up for at least ten minutes.
    I had the place all to myself.
    Dropping my bags in the front row, I climbed onto the stage.
    â€œHello,” I said to the empty chairs. My back was hunched, as if I was ready to curl into a ball at the first sign of predators. I straightened and then put my hands on my hips. “Hey!” I tried in a cheerier voice. “Hi! I’m Vanessa—”
    The side door opened, and I quickly leaped down, landing on all fours.
    â€œVanny?” Katie tilted her head to one side.
    â€œKatie?” I sat back on my heels. “What are you doing here?”
    â€œI’m helping with costumes,” she said, holding up a sewing box.
    â€œWhat?” There wasn’t an ounce of happinessin my voice, but Katie smiled all the same.
    â€œIsn’t this great? We get to make the costumes together!”
    â€œBut I’ve already started,” I said. “And there isn’t enough work for two people.”
    Katie settled on the carpet beside me. “Don’t be silly! There are two costume changes, and five actors. You’re really going to sew ten costumes by yourself? No, no, no. I have come to save the day.” She made muscles with both her arms. “Now what are you doing on the floor?”
    â€œUh . . . yoga,” I said. “I really like the peace and quiet of being alone.”
    I could not have emphasized the word alone stronger, except maybe with a bullhorn. But Katie smiled again and snapped her fingers.
    â€œYou were doing Cat-Cow? I’ll join you!” She got on her hands and knees.
    â€œOh! Uh . . .” I imitated her.
    â€œAre you on Cat or Cow?” she asked.
    â€œWell . . .” I didn’t know any yoga except the breathing Heather had shown me, but cats seemed more glamorous than cows. “Cat.”
    Katie bowed her head and curved her spine upward like a hissing cat. I copied her.
    â€œHow long do you hold your poses?” she asked.
    â€œUntil I feel ridiculous, which is now,” I said.
    Katie raised her head and dropped her spine so that her back curved into a U . I guessed this was the cow.
    The auditorium door opened again, and several people walked in. I started to get up, but Katie grabbed my arm. “Let’s have them join us!” she said.
    â€œWhat?” Again, no joy. I wasn’t sure how Katie maintained such a constant state of obliviousness.
    â€œGuys! Vanessa is leading us in yoga!” she called.
    â€œNo! I—”
    â€œYoga? Great idea!” said Phoebe. “We need to loosen up our muscles. Everyone onstage!”
    The actors and actresses, along with Katie, put away their schoolbags and did as Phoebe instructed.
    â€œCome on, Vanny!” Katie offered me a hand up.
    â€œOh, I think I should stay down here where you can . . . um . . . all see me better.” I laughed nervously as everyone faced me.
    After several seconds of awkward staring, I realized they were waiting for me to start.
    â€œSo . . . uh . . . our first pose is . . .” I didn’t actually name it, but I stretched my right hand high into the sky and wiggled my fingers.
    Everyone mirrored me except one girl who frowned. “I’m not familiar with this pose. Is it amodified version of the Gate pose?”
    Why wasn’t this girl in charge?
    â€œUh . . . no. This is a different type of yoga from my . . . my ancestors.” I clasped my hands together solemnly. “That first pose is actually called . . . Teacher, Teacher.” I lifted my left arm and wiggled my fingers. “And now we do it on the other side.”
    Everyone shifted along with me. Yoga was