Diary of an Ugly Duckling by Langhorne, Karyn (general ebook reader .txt) 📕

not opti-

mistic.”

“Why not? What she did was out-and-out fraud.”

Audra shook her head. “I don’t think so. And be-

sides, we all signed the releases. That allows them to

use what we said to each other pretty much any way

they want.”

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Edith frowned. “I’m not buying that until every

lawyer in Manhattan says it,” she declared. “And

you’re certainly not going back out there.”

“I may have to,” Audra muttered, staring at her

perfect caramel arms, one folded against the other

on her chest. Although she had stopped using the

cream months ago, the color remained smooth and

even, since she’d taken Dr. Jamison’s advice and re-

mained vigilant about the sun. “Just like I’m going

to have to do these interviews—”

“But Audra, why? They just going to make a fool

of you again!” Edith said. “These TV people. All

they care about is themselves and their ratings and

making money. They don’t care who they hurt or

what happens to them after the cameras stop

rolling. It’s all about the—what was the word that

girl used? The concept. It’s all about the concept.”

Audra frowned, the beginnings of an idea tick-

ling the back of her brain. Her mother stopped

short, peering closely at Audra’s face.

“Why do you look like that all of the sudden?” she

asked. “What—”

“Ma, do you think you can get this hair weave out?”

“I’m sure I can!” Edith sounded indignant. “You

think that Ishti’s that much better than me? It’s just a

matter of what the clientele can afford—”

But Audra wasn’t listening, she was too busy dig-

ging into the pantry.

“What are you—”

“The Yellow Pages,” Audra said quickly. “Here

they are. I need to find out where the nearest tan-

ning booth is—” She looked up quickly. “Art, I need

you to do something for me.”

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“Anything.”

“Oreos, please . . . and some soda—”

“But Audra, your diet!” Penny interrupted.

“You’ll wreck it!”

“Exactly,” Audra said, grinning into their puzzled

faces. “Exactly.”

It took a while . . . but little by little, understand-

ing dawned on each of their faces. Art’s booming

laughter filled the kitchen.

“You’re a piece of work, Audra Marks . . . a piece

of work!”

“Well . . .” Audra said slyly. “I was just thinking . . .

This whole concept thing . . . it could cut both ways.

And as long as they get their ratings, I can’t see what

difference it should make to the Ugly Duckling peo-

ple. And I’m in the mood to fight fire with fire. But”—

she cautioned them with a finger—“we’ll have to be

careful. It can’t be obvious what I’m doing. And we

don’t want it to be. Not until the Reveal.”

Edith blinked at her, then a slow grin spread

across her lined face. “Oh, I like the sound of this!

You’re gonna undo it, aren’t you! That’s a great

idea.”

Audra shook her head. “No, Ma. I can’t undo it. I

can’t undo the surgery . . . and I can’t get my old col-

oring back. My skin . . . it might be pretty messed

up. In fact, I may even look worse than I did before.

But I’d rather be that than a slave to someone else’s

vision.”

“You—you’re gonna go back? You’re going to go

out in front of millions of people looking worse than

you used to look?” Penny asked, staring at Audra,

her mouth slack with surprise.

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Audra fixed the girl with a calm stare. “That’s

right.” She stretched her hand toward the girl. “But I

hope we’ll still be friends, Penny. I’d like to think

you could like me . . . even if I’m not pretty any-

more.”

Penny stared at Audra, her brow crinkled as she

weighed the question. Then a slow smile spread

across her face. “You’re brave, Audra. You’re the

bravest woman I know. I think I know why Dad

likes you so much.” She crossed the room and

hugged Audra tightly. “And I hope I’m just like you

when I’m old.”

Audra laughed. “Thanks, I think.”

“How long do we have?” Art asked.

“About three weeks. The live show is November

thirteenth—”

“Sweeps,” Penny muttered like some old-hand in-

dustry rep. “Shows that get the most viewers during

sweeps ratings period can command higher adver-

tising fees,” she explained at Audra’s questioning

look.

“So it’s really just about the money,” Art offered.

“That explains why they’ve scheduled all this media

attention. To keep the controversy alive.”

“But are you sure you want to go out there like

that?” Edith asked. “I can pull out that weave, but

you’ve barely got any hair under that. And depend-

ing on what happens with your skin”—she shook

her head—“Penny’s right. Are you sure you want to

do that in front of the whole world?”

Audra considered their concerned faces for a long

moment, and then smiled.

“In the words of Norma Desmond, from that

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great Hollywood classic, Sunset Boulevard . . .” She

struck a dramatic film star pose of batted eyelashes

and pouty lips. “Mr. DeMille, I’m ready for my

closeup.”

Chapter 29

November 13

Dear Petra,

It hasn’t gone exactly as I planned . . . but then I

knew that. The good news is, the live Duckling starts

in a few hours. It’s been really hard, but it’s almost

over. There’s probably going to be some media—and

some backlash—but unless I win, the lawyer we hired

says I’m a “private citizen” again right after the show

ends.

I hope like crazy I don’t win.

I’ve decided to resign from the prison. I might go

back, I don’t know. But for now, it’s not where I want to

be. I have too much to learn about myself. Too much

to figure out. Laine invited me to join her in the Islands

for Thanksgiving—to meet the other side of my

family—and I’m going. I’ll meet my father’s brothers

and sister and their families. I’m also going to meet my

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grandmother. My grandmother! Laine says she’s going

to love me. I hope she’s right.

Art has asked me to move in with him and Penny.