31. Violet
VIOLET
“Oh my gosh. She’s here!” Dahlia bursts through the front door and launches her backpack on the couch next to me.
“Who?” Jane and Daisy ask at the same time.
We’re all home during our lunch break between classes. It’s the big day. The rep for Penelope Hart is going to pick an outfit that she will wear during her world tour.
“Penelope is here.”
I sit forward. “What?!”
Jane looks over the magazine in her hands. “How do you know?”
“I saw her.” Dahlia sits down. Her blue eyes are bright with excitement, and she waves her hands around.
“I was at University Hall and these two big guys in all black walked in. They caught my attention because they looked so out of place, and they sort of just stood there, scanning the room. I was a little creeped out at first, but then Penelope walked in, flanked by two more big dudes.”
“What did she look like?” Daisy asks.
“What was she wearing?” I follow up before Dahlia has time to answer.
“Why would she come here?” Jane’s brows pinch together.
Dahlia lets us attack her with questions before telling us every detail she remembers.
“I still don’t understand why she would come. She has assistants that have assistants.” Jane is the only one of us that isn’t giddy over the news. I guess when you grow up in LA, celebrity sightings are just part of a typical day.
Dahlia and I jump up and down, clasping hands.
“We’re going to meet her,” I squeal. “This is so cool.”
“I’m so jealous.” Daisy sticks out her bottom lip. “Do you think your professor would notice if I tagged along?”
“I could tell her you’re my model,” I say after I catch my breath.
“We should go,” Dahlia says.
My nerves ramp up. I’m going to meet Penelope Hart, and she’s going to see the design I created just for her.
Dahlia, Daisy, and I grab our backpacks. Jane takes her magazine to the stairs.
“I think I’m going to skip my afternoon classes today,” she says. “I have a headache that won’t quit.”
“Are you sure?” Dahlia asks her. “Maybe we’ll bump into her on the way.”
“I’m sure. Promise to tell me everything when you get back though?”
Dahlia nods.
“Good luck.” Jane beams. “I hope she picks one of your designs.”
Dahlia and I squeal some more.
The three of us walk to campus, chattering about Penelope. Jordan meets up with Daisy in front of the library.
“Penelope Hart is here,” Daisy tells her boyfriend.
“Oh yeah? That’s awesome.”
“Want to skip class to hang outside of their classroom and catch a peek of her?” she asks him.
He chuckles. “I would love to, but we have a quiz today.”
“Oh yeah.” Her shoulders sag. “One of you needs to get picked, become best friends, and get us tickets.”
“We’ll see what we can do,” I tell my cousin before she heads off with Jordan.
Dahlia and I link arms as we hurry to the art building. At the end of the hall, we pause and take a deep breath.
“I see what you mean about the big, creepy dudes standing guard,” I whisper. Two giant forms fill the doorway.
They don’t say anything to us as we pass by. Once inside, we see Penelope standing with Professor Richards and another woman, who I assume is her assistant or one of the many other people who work for her.
Dahlia and I share barely contained smiles as we take our seats. I can’t believe it. Penelope Hart is here. At Valley. Standing in our design classroom like she’s just a normal person. Well, a normal person with two guards at the door and two more hovering in the back of the classroom.
Her signature lilac hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail and she’s wearing a baggy Fleetwood Mac T-shirt. Even casual, she’d be impossible to mistake. She has that look, that intangible thing, that makes people look twice.
The class is buzzing with quiet chatter. A few people are taking pictures with their cell phones, but no one approaches her. I think we all might be a little in awe of her. Or a lot. A whole lot.
At the top of the hour, Professor Richards steps to the front of the room. “I’m sure you’ve all noticed that we have a special guest today. Penelope is here to help pick the outfit she’s going to wear on tour.”
She pauses and the room is filled with applause. Penelope waves as she walks up and joins Professor Richard. “Hey. Hi, everyone. I’m Penelope. I’m so glad to be here. Fashion is my second love, so I can’t wait to see what you’ve made.”
My pulse ticks faster. Holy crap. This is really happening.
Professor Richards gives us time to set up, and then she and Penelope start around the room.
It’s torture waiting. Dahlia and I watch as they talk to each student. Penelope smiles and listens as they talk through the design. She appears nothing but gracious, but I can’t tell anything about how she feels about the outfits.
“I think I might throw up,” Dahlia says when Penelope gets closer to us.
“You’ll be fine.”
“What if I freeze or blurt out something weird like, ‘Your hair is so pretty?’”
“Breathe,” I say, taking her hand and squeezing. “She’s our age and she hasn’t been super famous for that long. Talk to her like you’d talk to me or Jane or Daisy.”
“She dated the Prince of Luxembourg. She is not just like us.”
I stifle a laugh. “Fair point.”
Penelope steps toward Dahlia’s table. I squeeze her hand once more. “Focus on the design. You’ve got this.”
While she looks over Dahlia’s jumper, I scan my dress and pick at imaginary lint. This is it. How many opportunities like this come around? Peaking at twenty feels melodramatic, but what if this is it?
Before my life can flash before my eyes in swatches and lace, Penelope and Professor Richards are walking toward me.
“This is Violet Johnson.” Professor Richards stops at the side of the table to let Penelope move closer to the dress.
“This is stunning,” she says as she bypasses me and runs a hand over the skirt of the dress. “Sorry. That was incredibly rude. I was distracted by this gorgeous dress.” She smiles at me. A smile I’ve seen on red carpets and magazine shoots. “It’s nice to meet you, Violet.”
“Nice to meet you too.”
“Why don’t you tell Penelope a little about the concept and inspiration behind your design,” Professor Richards encourages.
“Well, my passion is dresses. I’m inspired by historical pieces.
The layering and careful construction. I took those elements but made it more modern with the fabric choice and the shorter skirt in the front.
I spent a lot of time listening to your music and looking through pieces you’ve worn before.
I wanted to create something that could be photographed on the red carpet but that would be comfortable and fun enough for the stage.
I know that it’s not as wearable as some of the other options, but I had my roommate test it, and she was able to sing and move around in it. ”
“Your roommate is a singer?”
“Music major.”
Her gaze stays on the dress as if she’s taking in every detail. “It’s costume meets red carpet. Gorgeous. I love it.”
“Thanks.” I finally take a breath.
“Why black?” she asks.
“You’ve done a lot of color. People won’t necessarily expect it.”
She finally pulls her attention from the dress to me. “I love it. I love the thought that you put into creating it.”
“Thank you, Penelope.” I get a little thrill saying her name out loud. I’m talking to freaking Penelope Hart.
She looks to Professor Richards. Weeks of effort and it’s over just like that.
They go back to the front of the room after finishing talking with each of us.
Professor Richards looks at the clock on the wall. “You can clean your areas while we talk things over, but leave your designs out, in case we need a second look. Don’t stress. We’ll have an answer for you soon.”
Don’t stress? Ha!
Dahlia comes over to stand with me while we wait. “How’d it go?”
“Good. I think?” My heart is still beating rapidly in my chest. “How’d yours go?”
“She smiled a lot, but she smiled at everyone. At least I didn’t say anything humiliating.”
It feels like an eternity, waiting for Penelope to make a decision. They confer up front and then make another lap to get a second look. They pause a little longer in front of a few of ours, mine and Dahlia’s included, but I still can’t read anything on Penelope’s face.
“I want to thank Penelope for being here in person today.” Professor Richards angles her body, clapping, and we all join in.
“It was my absolute pleasure. I can’t thank you all enough for the time and effort that you put into this challenge. It was not easy to choose, but one in particular caught my eye, and I think it would be perfect to close out my setlist on tour.”
Collectively, the class holds our breath.
Penelope tips her head to the left of me. “Dahlia, I would be honored to wear that jumper. It’s exactly what I was looking for, but somehow, even better.”
My friend goes still next to me. Her eyes are wide, and she looks like she might pass out as our classmates stare at her with jealousy and admiration.
Disappointment washes over me, but I can’t dwell on it for long.
I want Dahlia to know how much I support her.
If it wasn’t me, then of course, I wanted it to be her.
“You did it.” I nudge her with my elbow. “She picked your design.”