Summary: Another day in the life of a teenager. Joan tries to juggle a "suggestion" from God, her friends, and attempts at accepting Iris in Adam's life.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anyone from Joan of Arcadia or any songs that appear in this fic. I wouldn't mind having Christopher Marquette, though. .
Ratings: PG – just in case of swearing
AN: Here we go. Another chapter, and more viewing into the Pageant itself. Hope you all like it so far. Thanks for all the reviews… Keep them coming.
"Once more, Miss Girardi. And this time, with less stumbling." The director sat back in his seat, his sigh audible in the half empty auditorium. He reached up to push his glasses up off his nose to rub his eyes in a weary display of annoyance. He adjusted his spectacles once more on the tip of his nose, looking at the stage where Joan was trying to walk on the high heels that were required for the evening gown segment. She was walking from a point offstage towards the front where there was a marker to indicate where she would stand approximately a minute before turning and joining the girls that were to precede her. Unfortunately, she would get halfway to her destination before stumbling or wobbling on the extremely high heels.
She was growing equally frustrated, wondering why such a torture device was required at a beauty pageant. She stood firm behind the curtain taking a few deep breathes before once more attempting her show of disgrace. This time she made it a foot away from the gray tape before her ankle gave out. She thrust out her arms to catch her balance, wincing at the loud cracking noise that was quickly followed by the heel snapping off her left shoe. She looked up to see Mr. Stefan throw down his clipboard in rising irritation, glaring at her over the tops of his glasses.
"Let's move on to the next contestant… But a word of advice, Miss Girardi… I would work on your form if I was you."
Joan nodded before half-scurrying, half-limping off to the other side of the stage. Amber-Lynne Walters, the girl she had talked to briefly from the other day, gave her a sympathetic look, walking over to where she stood.
"Don't worry about it, Joan. It just takes a lot of practice."
"Thanks. I wonder how many shoes I'll go through before I've figured out how to walk in them without killing myself."
Amber laughed, turning to watch a leggy blonde perfectly execute the walk, pose and then a turn. She began heading towards the side of the stage, giving Joan a look of triumph before hurrying over to her friends. They stood around laughing and discussing who had a chance and who didn't… It was obvious who they thought wouldn't make it when they looked over in Joan's direction with a snicker. Joan just rolled her eyes and went back to looking at the stage at the last contestant.
After they were through with the evening segment, they all came back on stage for the final discussion with Mr. Stefan before they would call it a night. He congratulated some, and advised a few others, and told them what to expect in the coming few days. He stressed that they had a lot to do in such a short time, and that the pageant would be the top priority. He wanted the pageant to go off without a problem as it had in all the year since it was started. With those words ringing in the girls' ears, he dismissed them all and turned to gather his things. The girls filed off stage to where their possessions were located then left for various things they had to do.
Joan sat down in one of the seats next to her bag, and took off the ruined high heels. She looked at them in dismay before shoving them in her bag. She hoped her mom wouldn't notice a pair of her dress shoes missing. She would have to go out and buy her own with her paycheck, otherwise she'd go through her mom's entire collection by the time she was done practicing. She also had to go practice her talent, now that she finally decided on it. She couldn't wait for the week to be over with, and life could go back to normal… As normal as it could get while talking to God, and having her odd assortment of friends.
She heaved herself out of the fold-chair and grabbed her things and then exited out of the now empty auditorium. As she made her way towards the main entrance, she heard people bickering. She didn't want to eavesdrop, but it was kind of hard when she noticed that they were standing right in front of the main doors. All she saw were the backs of a couple both stylishly dressed and who appeared to be arguing with someone who Joan couldn't see.
"Really, dear. You could put forth a bit of an effort in there. You walked like a wooden doll. And I've decided you're going to be packing a lunch instead of getting the food here. Honestly, Amber-Lynne, you've gained 10 pounds." The woman sighed, shaking her head in disapproval.
"Mother, I have not gained anything. You should know… You weighed me this morning before I left home. And I'm sorry that I appeared 'wooden,' but I'm tired. I was up all night practicing for this Saturday and studying for my upcoming exams-"
"We're going to have a discussion with your teachers. I think it is simply atrocious that they would expect a Pageant contestant to think about exams and such at a time like this."
"Quite right, honey. We've donated a lot of our time and money to this school and this pageant, I'm sure that there is something we can do. We'll discuss your duties on the way home, Amber-Lynne. Come along." With those words, the man walked around Amber and out the door, expecting the other two to follow him. His wife scurried after in her heels, her mouth still flapping her outrage at the school's priorities. Amber stood with her hands clenched, watching her parents leave the school. She looked so upset, that Joan took an unconscious step forward. Amber neither noticed nor cared to turn and look as she walked out and got into the backseat of her family's Lincoln.
Joan stood there and watched her leave, wishing there was something she could do. With a heavy heart, Joan left the school and drove home.
"Place on the head with each sides in perfect balance. Hold position for a minute or two then take a few steps forward. If the books begin to wobble, stop and steady until they even out." Joan looked at the sheet on her bed, arching her brow in disbelief. "They actually have written instructions for this? Who knew."
"Joan, honey… Have you seen my silver shoes? The ones with the ankle strap? I can't seem to find them anywhere."
Joan made a face, looking to where the shoes lay half under her bed. How was she going to explain them to her mom? With a hasty kick to get them completely under her bed, she turned and gave her mom a fake smile when she opened her door. Helen Girardi looked distracted, as she scanned the floors in hopes of locating the shoes that went with the black evening gown she was wearing. She had another art seminar thing that she had mentioned to Joan earlier that day, but of course, Joan had completely forgotten about it.
"Um… No, I don't think so. Did you leave them in the downstairs closet?" Joan hoped that her mom wouldn't pick up on her lie, and wasn't disappointed when Helen gave her a vague smile before walking towards the stairs leading down to the first level, still trying to get her left earring through the hole in her lobe. Joan let go of the breathe she didn't know she was holding before picking up the book that she had laying on her bed. With another look at the instructions, she began her practicing.
Kevin looked over to Luke, then back up to the ceiling where they head a loud thump come from the vicinity of Joan's room. He gave a questioning look to his younger brother, but only received a shrug of cluelessness in return. Neither boy could fathom what the noise was or what their sister was doing to cause such a noise. They just chalked it up to another 'Joan quirk.' They went back to their respective tasks – Luke studying early for the next Chemistry test, and Kevin jotting down notes for the next day on the articles he was given.
Meanwhile, Joan was slumped on her bed, glowering at where the book had fallen from her latest attempt at learning to walk steady. How was she going to learn all of this four days? It was hopeless. Sighing, she left her room to head downstairs into the kitchen to see what she could find for a snack. She poked her head into the pantry but couldn't find anything that interested her. Instead, she decided on the cherry pie her mother had brought home with her after work. She sliced a generous portion and plopped it on a plate, then walked over to the kitchen table. As she set down her plate and glass of milk, she heard a knock at the door. She checked the clock in surprise, wondering who would come after 10. Staring mutely when she spotted Grace on her back porch, scrunching as far as she could into her leather jacket in hopes of no one seeing her.
"Grace, what are you doing here?"
"Listen, Girardi… we need to talk."
With those ominous words, Joan held the door open for her friend to come in. 'What could this be about?'