"Supermodels 3 - Having It All - Calhoun, B.B." - читать интересную книгу автора (Calhoun B.B)

"The showcase?" I echoed.
"Yes," she said. "The performance I was talking about, the one the Dance Club is putting on at the end of the semester."
"Oh, wow," said Sara, looking excited. "That's a great idea. Don't you think so, Naira?"
"Yeah," I said. I was totally flattered that Ms. Peters thought I was good enough to be in a piece with Sara. "Sounds like fun."
"Okay, then, it's settled," said Ms. Peters happily. "How about working on it today?"
"Today?" I said. "But the Dance Club doesn't meet until tomorrow."
"I know, but I'm going to need extra rehearsals with you two if we're going to do this," explained Ms. Peters.
Sara looked at me, her eyes shining and braces flashing. "You can make it, can't you, Naira?"
I thought a moment. The final shoot for
the Sauce article had been scheduled for later that evening. I had planned on going home right after school so I could work some more on my history paper. I also had a book to read by next week for English class, and I wanted to get started on it. And I was going to try to get another postcard off to Kyra and the boys. Not to mention, I was also dying to get a little rest! But looking at Sara and Ms, Peters, I could see that it was important to both of them that I be there.
"Okay," I said, nodding. "No problem. See you after school."
At the end of the lunch period I sat in the cafeteria, spooning the last of the banana yogurt into my mouth. I was going over my file card system for modeling assignments. I'd been so busy that I hadn't kept up with it. As I finished my lunch, I entered information on file cards for my go-see with Diana Evans and the two Sauce shoots with Will Nichols.
As I was filing the cards away in the box, Chris sat down across from me. I looked around, wondering where Sabrina was, but she didn't seem to be anywhere in sight.
"Hey," said Chris, looking at my tray. "Don't tell me you're not having any of the HSPS cafeteria's world-famous goulash!"
I grimaced, thinking of the steaming pile of grayish mush I had seen in the serving area.
"That's okay. I think I'll pass this time," I said.
He shook his head. "You know, you're not really initiated as an official HSPS student until you take the goulash test, Naira."
"The goulash test?" I said.
"Yeah," he cracked. "You take a big bite, and if you're still alive five minutes later, you're in."
"If that's what it takes, J think I'd rather stay out" I said.
"Wise choice," said Chris, grinning. He looked down at my file box on the table. "What's this, more shopping lists for the food drive?"
I shook my head. "It's a system for keeping track of my appointments."
"Oh," said Chris, nodding. "Speaking of the food drive, we should probably start making those posters soon. After all, Friday's
the day people are supposed to bring in their cans and stuff."
"Oh, my gosh, that's right," I said. I couldn't believe it. The food drive was only four days away now, and the dinner at the church was the day after that. Somehow, time was flying by.
"What do you say we get together after school today and work on them?" suggested Chris.
"OkayЧ" I started to say. But then I remembered that I had promised Ms. Peters and Sara that I would meet with them after school. "Actually, I can't," I told Chris. "I have a dance rehearsal."
"Are you a dancer?" asked Chris, looking confused. "I thought you said you were a model."
"I am. I mean, no, I'm not a dancer," I said. "I like to dance, though, and Ms. Peters asked me to join Dance Club. First she said she was looking for new people, since a lot of the dancers graduated last year, and now she wants to put me in a special piece with another girl. I don't know exactly how I'm going to find the time to practice, but I'm
really flattered that she asked. I've just got to do it." I was starting to feel a little panicky.
"Chill out, Naira, you'll be okay," said Chris. "Let's see. How about I go around with a couple of the other kids from REACH and try to get pledges from some stores and restaurants while you have your rehearsal. I'll pick up a pizza for us too. Afterward, you can meet us in the art studio and we'll do the posters. Now how does that sound?"
I thought a moment. Wasn't there something else I was supposed to do later? Why couldn't I seem to remember what it was?
"Hang on a minute. Let me just check something," I said to Chris.
I reached into my bag for my appointment book, and flipped it open. Of course, that was itЧthe Sauce shoot was scheduled for seven thirty at the Empire State Building. I couldn't believe I'd forgotten it.
Actually, I realized, I would probably have just enough time to meet with Ms. Peters and Sara and paint posters with Chris before the shoot. Just the thought of all these commitments made me feel exhausted, but I'd agreed to go to the dance rehearsal. I also felt
that I couldn't really say no to Chris, either, especially because the food drive had been my idea. Besides, if Chris was going to pick up a pizza for us, I wouldn't have to stop home for dinner. I'd just have to call Mrs. Hill and let her know that I was working late at school.
"Okay," I said to Chris. "No problemЧI'll be there."
Later, as Chris and I were painting posters in the art studio, I suddenly felt this strange ache in the back of my neck.
"Ugh," I said, sitting back from the poster I had been working on. I put down my paintbrush and rolled my head around a little, the way Ms. Peters had shown us in jazz warm-up.
Chris looked at me from across the table.
"You okay, Naira?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said, sighing. But the ache was still there. "I guess I might have pulled something this afternoon at rehearsal."
"Maybe we should take a break and eat that pizza now," said Chris. He put down his paintbrush and picked up the poster he'd been working on. "What d'you think?"
I looked at the poster. Big orange letters
across the top said: HERE IT ISЧA CHANCE FOR YOU TO BE A GOOD PERSON! Underneath, in smaller green letters, were the details of the food drive.
"Nice," I said, trying to smile. But as I spoke I could feel the ache in my neck creeping up the back of my head and down the back of my spine.
"Wow, you do need a slice of pizza" said Chris. He walked over to a flat cardboard box on a nearby table and flipped it open. "Mmmm, still pretty hot. Plain cheese, or pepperoni?"
"Um, pepperoni, I guess," I said.
"Excellent choice," said Chris, smiling. "Actually, if I'd known you like it, I would have gotten the whole pizza with pepperoni."
He handed me a slice of pizza and a bottle of cranberry sparkling water.