In the light of day, the Hideaway is nothing more than peeling paint and sticky floors.
Beside me Hannah teeters back and forth in three-inch heels. “I’m not wearing these in this pageant.”
Lee Wei has us all lined up on the stage in high heels while Dale, the bouncer/owner, sits at the bar sipping on a tall boy. The email I sent to him was as transparent as I’d been in a long time. I told him about finding the old registration form in Lucy’s dresser and about Millie, Amanda, and Hannah. I’ve gotten myself in too deep, I told him. And not only am I going to make a fool of myself, but I’m taking these girls down with me. We need help. The kind you can’t find in Clover City.
Because, the truth is, we have no idea what we’re doing. We don’t know how to walk or pose or present ourselves. I don’t want to go up there and be the fat girl who fell on her ass and fumbled her way through some magic tricks. I’m not na?ve. I know I won’t win. I don’t even want to. But I want to go up there and prove that there’s no reason I can’t do this or shouldn’t be able to.
On my other side, Millie is surprisingly silent with her knees locked in place.
“Are you okay?” I whisper.
She concentrates on the dark spotlight above her. “I’m trying to concentrate on not falling.”
“Bend your knees!” calls Lee.
Hannah yanks a thumb in Amanda’s direction. “I don’t get why she doesn’t have to wear these spiked torture devices.”
Amanda grins innocently.
“Hannah,” says Millie. “You know—”
Lee interrupts with a no-nonsense tone. “Because life is not a river and we’re not all headin’ in the same direction.”
Hannah rolls her eyes.
“And, sweetheart,” Lee adds. “Your attitude needs a makeunder.”
I asked Lee and Dale to sacrifice their Friday afternoon, and here we are, moaning. “Come on, y’all.”
“Let’s get this over with,” says Hannah.
Lee clears her throat. “The first thing you’ve gotta nail down is your walk. Your walk makes you a queen. Because, ladies, it ain’t anything that comes out of your mouth that counts as your first impression. It’s all”—she swings her hips to the right and then the left—“about the motion in the ocean.”
From the corner of my eye, I spot Millie chewing relentlessly on her nails.
Lee instructs us to sit down while she shows us exactly what she means, and all of us sigh as soon as our asses hit the chairs. She struts up and down the stage, her heels making a distinct thwacking noise with each step. “You see how I’m walking with one foot in front of the other. Pretend you’re taking a sobriety test—”
“They’re in high school,” grunts Dale.
“Then they should know exactly what I’m talking about, right, girls?” The only one of us who nods her head is Hannah. “So you act like you’re walking down a yellow line. And none of those baby steps. Your stride should be as long as your forearm, at least.” She takes another lap. The way she moves in her silk robe and endlessly tall heels transforms her from some short chubby guy dressed as a woman into a glamazon. Maybe I’m seeing what I want to see, but it’s hard to think she’s anything less.
“You can’t hold all your weight on your heel. It’s not fair to make those poor little spikes hold you up all on their own. Distribute the work to the rest of your foot. Now, one of y’all try.”
I raise my hand. I can do this. I can so do this.
Dale whistles.
Carefully, I take the steps.