The Real Prom Queens of Westfield High

Chapter Six

The first class we have is the personality adjustment thing, which is pretty much a waste of time. Our teacher is some low-budget motivational speaker named Larry who mentions the title of his book every third sentence or so. He’s teaching us to read body language using Thirty-five Steps to Winning Friends through Nonverbal Communication by Larry Phillips. We’ll also be learning how to manipulate our own body language to make everybody love us.

I’m counting the number of times Larry repeats, “As I say in my book…” and get up to thirteen before a response of some sort is required of me. Looking around, I see everyone looking in my direction, including the cameras. Grasping for a clue to what he’s just asked me, I shrug and say, “Yes?” Larry’s look of annoyance tells me his was not a yes or no question.

“Uh…three?” I guess, which makes Kelly snicker. That gets me going. “Yellow? Timbuktu? Kite? Boll weevil?”

Larry’s face turns red and he mutters to himself, “Stay positive…focus on the prize.”

I’m not sure if it’s my hunger, the power of Blonde or maybe just being on camera for twenty-four hours straight, but Larry seems to be bringing out my snide inner bitch. Camp’s working.

I add, “How about a2 + b2 = c2?”

“Okay. Sense of humor, very nice.” He gives me a creepy grin. “But how about paying attention?” Wider creepy grin. “Okay, sweetie?”

I realize our motivational speaker might need all his positive self-talk just so he doesn’t fulfill his true calling as a serial killer.

“I asked you,” he says calmly, “how would you describe your outlook on life?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” I say. “The answer really is yellow.” That gets Kelly laughing hysterically. Amy looks nervous, and I can’t believe how bold I’m feeling.

“Very funny…Shannon-is-it?” Larry grits his teeth into the widest creepy grin imaginable, and my bold feeling flees. “Would you care to elaborate?”

“I, um…” I what? “I like to think of moods as colors, and well, I’m always trying for a nice sunny yellow.” Take that, Mr. Motivation Man. His raised eyebrows bring some of my boldness back. “Would you like to know how the boll weevil applies?”

“No, that’s fine.” He sounds tired. “Let’s move on. Kelly? Can you please describe your life’s outlook for me?”

“Definitely black!” says Kelly, which makes even Amy give a snicker.

Personality Adjustment Class ends early. I think Larry has to go reread a few chapters of his book to talk himself out of murdering the three of us.

Next, we discover that Physical Boot Camp Conditioning is a very mean thing to do to a girl. Devices of torture include treadmills, stationary cycles, and a stair-climbing-to-hell machine that nearly kills Amy. Her face gets as bright as her hair, and she is forced to lie flat on the floor catching her breath as a cameraman circles her like a vulture. Then there’s mind-centering yoga that nearly kills Kelly. After each pose, she grumbles, “I need a cigarette.” Which runs somewhat contrary to the “free and clear” yoga breathing we’re supposed to be striving for.

Next up for Boot Camp Conditioning is something called Diva Dance Class. I think they may be trying to combine every reality show ever made into one mega cracked-out, jacked-up production.

“Reality television may have just jumped the shark,” I say half to myself as I stand in the ballroom with Kelly and Amy. We’re waiting for some technician guy to finish testing the light levels.

“What’s ‘jump the shark’ mean?” Amy asks.

Kelly says, “It’s the point when a television show takes things one step too far.”