"America!" May called. "What is it?" "Schreave Cosmetics has partnered with Monarchy Modelling and they're looking for a regular girl to be the face of their brand!" That was the day I, America Singer, had my life changed forever.
Thirty five girls...
"Ohmigosh! Ohmigosh ohmigosh Oh. My. Gosh." May's excited voice startled me out of the piece I was practicing on the piano. As I made my way over to her, I covered my ears just in time for one of my little sister's incredibly loud squeals.
"What is it?" I curled my toes under my feet to protect them from the cold of the crappy sub-flooring in our small house. I really hoped it wasn't about a boy band, because as much as I loved May she could be a little frivolous at times.
"Ames, this is the best thing that's ever happened. Ever! Look!" She pointed towards the TV, turned to the entertainment news channel. "Schreave Cosmetics has partnered with Monarchy Modelling and they're looking for a regular girl to be the face of their brand! It's going to be a competition for every girl from sixteen to twenty, and they're picking a girl from every province. All you have to do is fill out an application form and you could get in. Please, Ames, you can't pass up this chance. I would do it, but I'm only fourteen. It's not just so I can say my sister is a model. I'm not young and naive; I know as much as you do that we need the money.''
"Come on, America." Great, my mother had heard the news. I was never going to get out now. "Do this for your family. How can you be so selfish? You know we're hurting for money."
That was true. Our family was mostly artists and musicians, neither of whom could do very well or support themselves that well. We weren't flat broke like my boyfriend Aspen's family, but we lived near the bad side of town.
"I'll think about it." Damn you May and your pleading eyes!
"Not you, too Aspen." I groaned three hours later while meeting up with my boyfriend in the tree house.
"Why don't you do it? I know you, and you don't think you'll get picked. There thirty-four other girls." Sighing, I buried my head in his shoulder. It was nice that he knew me so well, but at the same time: didn't he have any faith in me?
"I don't want to be a model. I don't like fame. Don't play the money card on me, Aspen. My mom and May already tried tha-"
Aspen started kissing my neck, and I lost my train of thought and ability to get mad at him.
"Don't you dare try to kiss me into agreeing with you- Oh, whatever." I sighed again and gave in, kissing him back.
By the end of the night, I had almost forgotten about the competition until Aspen brought it up again.
As I filled out the application form, I joked to my Dad. "Does sleeping in till ten count as a talent?"
"Yes, and your ability to eat a meal in ten seconds flat," He laughed, and my mother heard from where she was washing dishes in the kitchen.
"Oh, why don't you just write that you're an absolute heathen?" She snapped, scrubbing a pan with a little too much force before rushing out of the room.
"Why does she have to take it so seriously, Dad? It's not like I'm going to get picked anyways." I wanted to be left alone.
"This is important to her. Don't laugh,"
"And it's not important to you?"
"I love you, and I will support you in whatever you want. If you want to do this, then I will support you. If you don't, that's fine too."
