Kira Coplin

Pop Tart


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as we entered the dressing room. Brooke, who was pulling a fluffy white robe around her body, looked equally ruffled. With her white-blond locks in disarray, mascara smudged, and skin glistening with a sheen that could have saved us three bottles of baby oil during the ‘Pillow Talk’ debacle, she was certainly up to no good. Lowering herself onto the love seat, she exchanged knowing looks with Hayley, pausing for a moment before leaping into the arms of her oldest friend like a giddy schoolgirl.

      ‘Got you something.’ Hayley smiled. Reaching into the patchwork purse slung loosely across her body, she pulled out what looked like a green rock.

      ‘What…is it?’ Brooke asked, taking it in her hands.

      ‘Chrysoprase,’ Hayley said casually. ‘I picked it up at this trippy store right off Broadway. It protects against negative energy, like a dream catcher except for when you’re not sleeping…and it’s particularly good for working with large groups of people.’ She smiled, glancing down the hallway, where a cluster of dancers had gathered to practice their steps.

      ‘How does it do that?’ Brooke wondered, propping one of her honeyed legs up against the vanity table that was covered with Kabuki brushes, stacks of palettes, and tubes of various sizes and colors. My makeup bag disemboweled.

      ‘Gemstones and crystals house spiritual properties that can balance the energies around us,’ Hayley said, serious for the first time. Dragging a stool across the room to where I was coating Brooke’s face in a light, lavender-tinted base, Hayley continued. ‘But you have to keep it with you or it won’t work…I mean, you can set it down of course, but just make sure you put it someplace close by…where you can still feel its healing vibrations, you know?’

      Flipping the green rock, the Chrysler praise or something, in the palm of her hand, a look of curiosity bordering on fascination spread across her face.

      ‘Jackie!’ Brooke broke away from the rock. Squeezing Hayley’s forearm, she enthusiastically made introductions. ‘This is my BFF Hayley. She’s the sweetest person in the whole, wide world. She goes to school around here so I told her to drop on by. And Hayley, this is Jackie…’

      ‘Oh, Jackie and I go way back,’ Hayley said warmly.

      We playfully exchanged a handshake. ‘Nice to meet you again.’ I smiled at her, while attempting to reapply Brooke’s mascara.

      ‘Hey-y-y-y…’ Robert sighed as he entered the room–I could tell from his tone that he was jolly no more. How could he run so hot and cold? I just didn’t get him. Absorbed by the newfound powers that had been bestowed upon her, Brooke barely flinched as he heaved the large hockey bag full of the Emerson’s rejects from his shoulder onto the floor with a big BOOM! Startled, I glanced up at him, quickly noticing the costumes draped over his arm. The first was a skintight race car jumpsuit offset with a sporty checkered stripe down one side. The second, a sparkly unitard adorned with iridescent flowers, wasn’t much better. I couldn’t understand why her look, Barbie doll meets circus performer, differed so greatly from the Emersons’, who were always dressed so cool.

      Robert had caught my stare. Gleaning my thoughts, he looked back at me, cocking his head in judgment. I scrambled for words, hoping to ease the situation with some kind of compliment. ‘I have the perfect eye shadow for that flowery one!’ I smiled. Wrinkling his nose, he looked around for a place to hang Brooke’s costumes.

      ‘Oooohhh…ain’t those cute?’ a throaty voice bellowed.

      Appearing out of nowhere, Sasha accosted the tiny pieces of clothing Robert was hanging on to. He looked as if he wanted to slap her hands away from the precious garments, but knowing where he stood in the pecking order, turned to her with a feigned smile on his face instead. Abruptly shifting her interest away from the bejeweled bodice in her grip, Sasha began rattling off a list of wardrobe concerns she had for Robert, who stood directly behind me with his arms crossed over his chest. Although they were engaged in a long-winded debate that seemed to be centered on Landon’s new hairstyle, the close proximity of their conversation made me feel as if I, the newbie, were on display. Feeling as if my every move were up for criticism, my palm–wrapped tightly around a makeup brush–felt clammy as I swept midnight blue shadow across Brooke’s lids. To my left, Hayley and Brooke were engrossed in their own tête-à-tête which, from what I could tell by only half-listening, had something to do with ‘negative energies’ and ‘mean people.’ Trying hard to drown out the background noise around me, I focused my attention on Brooke’s pout–disrupting her chatter by dotting a glob of pink gloss on her lips for the finishing touch.

      Standing straight up, I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. With Robert behind me, I angled Brooke’s chair off to the side so I could step back and survey my work. Reversing three paces, I was pleased to see that the way I’d dramatically lined her eyes had successfully transformed her from ingénue to glamour girl. And just as I was about to give myself a big pat on the back–it happened. Something on the floor behind me caused my body to lurch backward. Reaching out my hands, I instinctively tried to regain balance, betrayed by my legs, which were already unsteady in four-inch heels. The ground beneath my feet quickly disappeared. Flipping backwards, I landed on the hard concrete floor–legs up in the air–with a thud. I lay there for a moment wishing I could melt into the ground and disappear. Remembering that I was wearing a skirt, I jolted upward only to find four stunned pairs of eyes watching me in horror, unsure how to react. I narrowed my eyes toward the floor ahead, spotting the culprit: an overstuffed hockey bag of clothes. The increase of blood flowing to my face and ears as I blushed in embarrassment distracted from the throbbing of my tailbone and the rising hatred I felt for Robert. So much for putting my best foot forward–err, backward. Shrugging my shoulders, I flashed a nervous smile signaling that I was okay. Okay, show’s over, people…

      ‘Heh, heh, heh….’ Sasha guffawed, finally breaking the silence. ‘Have a nice trip–see you next fall!’

      Soon the others were in stitches. Wiping tears from her eyes, Sasha chuckled, looking down at me with a goofy grin. ‘You okay, Calamity?’

      ‘Just fine,’ I muttered sheepishly and turned my focus back to Brooke, hoping the others would also reoccupy themselves.

      ‘’Sup, my girl!’ a gruff voice behind me barked just as I began to apply Brooke’s finishing touches.

      ‘T-Rooooc!’ Brooke leapt from the chair, rushing toward the N.F.L. linebacker lookalike now barreling into the room.

      ‘Gimme some love!’ He threw his enormous arms around Brooke’s tiny body.

      Still buried in his chest and beaming, Brooke called out to me, ‘Jackie, this is my most favorite person in the whole wide world–Tariq. But we all call him T-Roc.’

      Erupting in sarcastic laughter, the man retorted, ‘You say e’erbody be your favorite in the whole wide world.’

      Brooke pouted playfully and whined, ‘But you know you’re my favoritest, T-Roc.’ Brow furrowed, he nodded in mock doubt, as if to say keep talking.

      ‘T-Roc’s been working with the boys forever,’ she said waving a hand toward the hallway in the direction of the Emerson Brothers’ dressing rooms. Her legs dangled, making her look like a child in his arms.

      ‘Round the damn clock, kid!’ He released Brooke from what amounted to an extremely long bear hug and stood straight up.

      ‘So…’ she said with a sly smile, ‘you finally get the courage to do it?’

      ‘Do what?’ He lumbered over Brooke, an almost comical pairing.

      Delivering a light punch to his gut, she whined, ‘You k-n-o-w-w-w…’

      T-Roc grabbed his stomach in sarcastic agony and laughed. ‘All right, all right, all right.’ He laughed. ‘Take it easy killah. You will be happy to know that I did ask–even got down on my damn knee.’

      Brooke’s eyes grew wider. ‘And?’

      A sly grin spread across his face. ‘Shit, you think anybody gonna