Am I Pretty Yet?

Chapter Eighteen

*This chapter was edited 01/02/17*

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Mr. Klein reached over and slipped the mic out of my mother's hands before announcing the winner himself. He looked down at the card in my mother's frozen hands.

"Nina Gregory!" he yelled, then looked up out of shock. The audience burst into applause, and I found myself stepping forward, my feet holding a mind of their own. A pink sash was graced around my neck, and the girls around me politely clapped on.

If I looked into the crowd, I could spot Faith and the rest of the volleyball team whooping the loudest, causing the people nearby them to shoot incredulous glances. But I wasn't looking at them. I wasn't even looking at the contestants around me, or at the pink sash now around my body, crossing my chest in a diagonal line.

My eyes couldn't take themselves off my mother, who stood center stage, right beside me. The fury in her eyes was blazing by the minute.

"Alright," Mr. Klein slowly said, trying to put the audience back at ease. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly before continuing. "Miss Gregory will now give a speech. It's a tradition that we have in our yearly pageants."

Mom and I both reached for the microphone, then drew our hands back slowly only to have them fall back down at our sides. The back of my neck was burning up, and my palms felt clammy. She was still giving me the side eye, and I could only imagine the questions flying through her head. Mr. Klein cleared his throat before handing me the microphone. I had to force myself to calm down in order to keep my hand from shaking as I took the mic from him, bringing it up to my mouth. I blinked, looking out at the audience. I was completely lost for words.

"Nina," Jane said. All eyes moved to her, including mine. She smiled encouragingly at me, her own microphone still held up to her lips. "We're all curious: what was it like to be a part of this first pageant round and how has it influenced your life?"

My mother's eyes were burning a hole into my dress. Mr. Klein was merely perplexed by the sudden turn of events. My tongue seemed to still inside my mouth, but I knew I had to answer the question. People were pondering about my pageant experience. I had to start from scratch.

"I used to think that 'pretty' was my mother." At this the audience flew into a rush of murmurs. In my peripheral vision, my mother's hardened expression softened. It gave me the courage to go on. "I also used to think pretty meant being a flowery pink girl and having the attention of everybody in a room. But it's so much more than that."

Jane nodded, motioning her fingers as if to say give-them-more. So I did.

"It's so much more than this dress or this sash or this stage. Pretty holds a definition that's beyond reach. For a long time, though, I didn't know this. I let the validation of others affect how I saw myself." I looked around at everyone, then turned around to cast the other mesmerized contestants behind me a grateful smile before facing the audience once more. "I may never grow taller or be thinner, but this is who I am. I am pretty because I think I'm pretty and because I feel pretty. And that's what this pageant has taught me."

Unsure of what else to say, I added, "Thank you."

The reaction that followed astounded me: very slowly, Faith stood up and began clapping. Then Coach Tracy stood up, then Michelle, then the volleyball team, and then every single individual in Melway Hall stood up from their chairs to clap until the entire room rung with thunderous applause. The grin on my face and the feeling of joy were priceless. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined myself standing up on a stage telling this to complete strangers.