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

paper. I took out the little black metal file box I always carry in my bag. Thebox is part of my method for organizing all the modeling appointments I have. There are sections of index cards inside for all my modeling stuffЧ
bookings, go-sees, tests, fittings, meetings with Jill Murray or Eileen Ford, whatever.
I removed an index card from the box and wrote the date, along with Scott Jones's name and a short description of the job on the top lines. I added Audreys, Susan's, and Jim's
names and a line about each of them and what they'd done. Then I walked over to where Scott and Jim were rolling up the white seamless.
"Excuse me, Scott?" I said.
"Yes, Naira?" he answered, looking up.
"I was just wondering," I said. "Do you by any chance have an extra one of those Polaroids you took? I'd kind of like to keep one for my files."
"Sure," he said. He walked over to a table that was covered with photographs, rolls of film, and cameras. "Here you go."
"Thanks," I said, looking down at the picture. I took out the tiny stapler I always carry with me and attached the photo to the index card. If Ford ever booked me to work with Scott Jones again, I'd know exactly when he had shot me before and for what. I filed the card in the box behind the divider that was labeled BOOKINGS.
"Wow," said Scott. "You certainly are organized."
"Yeah," I said, grinning. "That's what everyone always says."
"You must be a pretty good student," said Scott. "Where do you go to school?"
"Actually, I'm starting at HSPS tomorrow," I told him.
He nodded. "A lot of the models go there, right?"
I nodded. "They have a flexible schedule, so you can work during the day if you need to."
"Well, I'm sure you'll do very well," said Scott. "I've heard it's a pretty good school."
"I hope so," I said.
"Good luck on your first day," he called as I headed toward the door.
"Thanks," I called back.
I walked out the door and down the stairs. I was looking forward to starting school again. Of course, I knew everything would be different from my school in Chicago. But I was ready for it!
"We've got a beautiful day out there already! It's sixty-five degrees at six forty-five sharp on this beautiful September morningЧ"
I opened my eyes and turned off the clock
radio.
"Mmmmm, good idea," mumbled Kerri.
She rolled over in her bed across the room. "Put it on snooze."
"I don't think this clock has one," I told her
as I sat up.
And even if it did, I didn't know where it was. I'm not a "snooze alarm" kind of person. When I wake up, I start thinking about whatever I have to do that day. And once I've done that, there's no way I can go back to sleep.
And this morning I had even more on my mind than usual. The first day at a new schoolЧI couldn't understand how Kerri
could just lie there like that. But I guess it's just as my mother used to say: "People are like snowflakesЧeach one of them is unique." It's hard to remember that though. Sometimes I think that if everyone did things my way they'd all get a lot more done, and they'd all be a lot happier.
Kerri and I are really different in a bunch of ways. To start with, Kerri's totally laid back and relaxed. Don't get me wrongЧit's not like she doesn't get excited about things. Actually she's a really cheerful and enthusiastic person, especially when it comes to her two loves, modeling and physical fitness. In some ways this is great, and it does make her easy to share a room with. Someone else might have had her own ideas about how to keep our clothes stored, but Kerri pretty much agreed to use my system of closet organizers right away.
I got up quietly and went over to the chair at the foot of my bed. There were the clothes that I'd picked out the night beforeЧtan linen overalls, a white T-shirt, and my tan clogs. Then I realized that everyone else would be up soon too. If I didn't hurry I would be in for a long wait for the bathroom.
I quickly pulled on my purple bathrobe and stepped out into the hallway.
But someone else had beaten me to it. The bathroom door was closed, and I could hear water running. 1 stood there for a moment, trying to decide what to do. There was a second bathroom by Pia and Katerina's room in the back, but it had only a bathtub and no shower. I know some people love baths, but I think that they take too long. I also think it's disgusting to soak in your own dirt.
But it turned out that I didn't have to use the other bathroom after all. The door opened, and Paige stepped out into the hallway. She was wearing a pink terry cloth robe and fuzzy pink slippers. Her long, curly red hair was tied into a thick knot on top of her head. I think Paige is really nice, and she's pretty smart, too. Sometimes she seems kind of young, though. Maybe it's just because she's always so worried about what people think of her.
"Oh, hi," Paige said. "Were you waiting? I'm sorry. I thought everyone was still asleep."
"It's okay," I told her. "I just got here."
"Hey," said Paige. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure," I answered. "Shoot."
"Are you nervous?" she asked.
"Nervous?" I repeated. "Oh, you mean about school today?"
"Yeah," said Paige, looking a little embarrassed.
"I guess I'm a little nervous," I told her. "But mostly I'm excited. Why? Are you worried about it?"
Paige nodded. "I couldn't sleep," she confided. She wrinkled her nose unhappily. "It's just, I don't know, back in Nebraska I went to school with kids I'd known all my life. I guess I feel weird about meeting new people."
"But that's practically all you've been doing since you got to New York," I pointed out. "I mean, think about it. As a model you meet new people all the timeЧphotographers, makeup and hair people, other models. Besides, you already know me, Kerri, and Cassandra, right? So it's almost like starting out with three ready-made friends."
"Yeah," said Paige, smiling. "Well, I hope you're right. Thanks, Naira."
"Sure " I said. I shook my head as I headed into the bathroom. Paige was probably trying
to figure out what to say to make the teachers like her. My mother always used to tell me, "Do your best, be yourself, and if someone's not happy, then it's his problem." That made sense to me.
Fifteen minutes later, I'd showered and brushed my teeth. When I stepped out of the bathroom, I saw Pia standing in the hall. She was wearing a white granny gown, and her short dark hair was pulled off her face with a headband.
"It's all yours," I said, waving toward the open bathroom door.