To be Somebody
Chapter One
There were times when Dana wondered if life wouldn’t have been easier
if God had made her a little less geeky and a little more jockish. At least my standings would be better, she sighed, and Ill bet my backhand would be stronger too. She clenched a fist, trying to pop a few veins. Her agent liked that

Of course, Id probably be starving to death because everybody would
KNOW I was ***** and I probably wouldn’t have the few endorsements I
actually have. Another sigh, as she walked back over to the closet
for the dozenth time in the last hour, trying to pick out something to
wear on her date with Lara. Can’t be too girly, she thought, can’t look
too *****.
She pulled out a nice pale blue sundress but heard Alice’s voice go off
in her head like an alarm clock: uh-uh, especially not with those shoes. Her shoulders drooped.

All right, how about this, Alice? She held up a pair of tapered
khaki side-tabbed pants and a nice drop-collared blouse with
three-quarters length cuffed sleeves. Fine. Just don’t wear high-heeled sandals with it.

I don’t HAVE any high-heeled sandals. Dana rolled her eyes.

Oh, jeez, I can’t even just talk to myself, she said out loud. I have to have imaginary conversations with my worst critic.

Dana, you are SO annoying.

And so *****. Don’t forget that, Alice.

I’m not the one trying to forget it.

Step off, *****! This is my–

Dana sat down on the bed, elbows on knees, and propped her chin in her hands. *****.

It was always like this when she met somebody she liked.

On the rare occasions that it happened.

When someone else initiated it.

An hour and a half just to dress and get out of the house.

And holding her breath all night, just praying not to make an idiot of herself.

I’m such a dork. – x – Lara Perkins stripped off her chef’s
jacket, holding it gingerly between her thumb and forefinger. It reeked
of grease and looked as though she had butchered an entire crate of
tomatoes. Even the wife beater she wore beneath the jacket was showing
signs of having been privy to a massacre. Wrinkling her nose, Lara
removed the rest of her offending garments, tossing them into the
separate hamper she used for her country club uniforms. She sighed,
flopping backward on her bed. Tonight was her date with Dana. Lara had
barely been able to think since Dana had appeared in the kitchen, all
nervous and serious, to ask her out. She’d almost cut off one of her
fingers just today and had to resolve not to think about the evening in
order to survive her job. A large knot settled in Lara’s stomach and
she had to sit up and draw her knees to her chest in order to ease her
sudden, unexpected nervousness. It occurred to her that she had no idea
what to wear. I’ll bet she’s gonna wear some expensive knockout dress. Lara groaned. Why didn’t I suggest Burger Chef or someplace else real casual?