Page 73 of The Accidental Beauty Queen
“Right.” Oh God. I can flee Orlando on the next plane out of here, but the pageant is still going to be televised. There’s no escaping it. It will be a trending topic on Twitter, and every talk show in America will chime in on it.
And if Ginny wins, this nightmare will live on for the entire year of her reign.
I shake my head. The thought makes me ill. “I’ve got to get back up to the room. You two have fun. Be sure and let me know how it goes.”
“No.” Dad gives his head a firm shake. “Absolutely not. You’re coming with us. No more hiding in your room.”
“But...” I stammer.
But I’m not hiding.
But I can’t be seen in the same room as Ginny.
Even if I could, I can’t watch. I just can’t.
“But nothing. We’re going to go support your sister. All three of us.” He takes me by the elbow and steers me toward the ballroom.
I’m in a panic.
Surely there’s a way to wiggle my way out of this. But if there is, it’s not coming to me. Each step we take fills me with dread. I can’t speak. I can barely breathe. I feel like I’m being dragged to my own execution. Because if my presence in the audience outs Ginny, then it also outs me too.
I’m about to be publicly exposed as the liar that I am. In front of everyone. In front of Lisa and Torrie and all the other pageant girls who’ve been so nice to me.
In front ofGray.
“Ah, here it is,” Susan says as we near the grand double doors leading to the ballroom.
It’s happening. I’m about to be trapped between four walls with forty-nine beauty queens, six judges, and a sizable number of pageant officials who will all want to crucify me before all this is over.
Oh, and my twin.
Ginny will think I did it on purpose. She’ll assume I marched down here of my own volition and showed my face in order to intentionally humiliate her and get her tossed out of the pageant. What else would she think after the horrible things I said to her earlier?
This is going to ruin our relationship. Things will never be the same between us. It will be one of those dire family events that linger... something we can’t get past.
Kind of like the Adam situation, only worse. Much, much worse.
“Dad, I...” I search for some kind of excuse. There’s got to be a ceremony of words that will stop this disaster in the making.
But it’s too late. He’s tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow, and we’ve already entered the room.
I bow my head and glue my gaze to my sneakers swallowing up the plush carpet. Maybe if I don’t make eye contact with anyone, I’ll stay invisible. After all, it’s worked pretty well in the past.
Plus I definitely look different than I have all the other times I’ve been in this room. My face is scrubbed free of the makeup I wore last night. I didn’t bother reapplying it because I’m no longer competing for the crown. I even managed to remove the hair extensions on my own.
If only I had my glasses to hide behind. But I don’t. I’ve gotten so used to doing without them for the sake of vanity that I forgot to put them on after I shed my pageant persona and resumed life as myself.
“This looks like a good place to sit,” I say, steering my dad toward three seats in the second-to-last row. If I leave it up to Susan, we’ll be parked front row, center.
Luckily, Dad doesn’t much care where we sit as long as we’re here to witness Ginny in all her beauty queen glory.
We file in—first me, followed by Dad and finally Susan, situated in the aisle seat. I should have snagged the seat on the end. Then maybe after things got under way, I could have made my escape. But no. The only way I’m getting out of here is if I climb over both my parents.
Since that’s clearly not an option, I sit as still as possible with my head ducked until the lights go dim.
“Welcome to the final day of the preliminary competition for Miss American Treasure!” the emcee booms.
The stage lights up like a Christmas tree, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
