Star Power by Kelli London Page A

to do.”
    Charly snapped her fingers as if she just had a thought. “Research, right? Well, there’s a mall right there, so there has to be a bookstore in there, right? You said you need to go to the library.”
    Nia exhaled, then drummed her hands on the steering wheel. “No, I said if I had to go anywhere, it’d be the library.”
    Charly laughed. “Same difference. Let’s go. I need to check out some design ideas anyway. I can check out a couple of magazines while you get your books.” She looked at Nia, then pouted. “C’mon, Nia. I never get to hang out with just girls. It’ll be my treat. I get a nice per diem,” she said, teasing and elbowing Nia as if she could really impress her with her daily allowance, as she liked to refer to the daily spending and living money the studio gave her while she was touring with the show. “C’mon. C’mon. C’mon,” she pushed until Nia gave in.

    Teenagers were everywhere. Every single place her eyes could see, another one popped up. Charly shook her head. The town was so small, she couldn’t understand the mathematics. The ratio of teens to adults made no sense. She took Nia’s arm in her hand, and the two of them made their way through the local mall, stopping every so often to look through store windows. Charly grabbed her cell, held it up to a store sign, then took a picture. That’s how she kept up with things now; she snapped shots.
    â€œWell?” Nia asked. “Maybe we should just head straight to the bookstore so you can look at magazines. I doubt if anything else in here will pique your interest.”
    Charly shook her head. “First, let me see if anything pops into my mind. It may be something that triggers my designer side. This is for your dad, remember? Help a sista out, Nia.” She laughed, and was glad to hear Nia join her.
    They walked another hundred feet or so. “Well, anything you can work with yet? There’s not much. It’s just the usual department store and cheesy fashion stores that cater to allowance budgets. I think it’s all atrocious—the shopping. I just don’t get what’s so important about clothes.”
    Charly grunted, then slyly took in Nia’s outfit, wondering how dare the girl call anything atrocious. What she was wearing had died and been buried seasons ago, and she had the nerve to still rock it. Bootcut jeans flared over her outdated sneakers, and a no-name ill-fitted shirt hid her upper torso. Charly did everything she could not to roll her eyes. Nia’s drab ponytail should’ve been covered by a hat or garbage bag. “We’re gonna have to make time to go into Minneapolis.” She swiped her phone screen, then pulled up her e-mail. I had one of the studio girls send an alternative list. She’s a fashionista, so she’s done the homework and knows what I need. Thank God.” She looked at Nia, and saw a tense look cover her face. “It’s not that bad, Nia. Lighten up. I mean, what else do you have to do? Really?” She stopped in front of a sunglasses cart, then picked up a pair and tried them on. She turned to Nia. “What do you think? Kinda hot, huh?” she asked, then turned and looked at herself in the mirror. The glasses were knockoffs, but nice.
    Nia shook her head. “You’re asking the wrong person. I keep telling you that my sister is the shopper.”
    Charly pushed a pair on Nia’s face, then reached up and adjusted the arms over her ears. “Cute! And you only said that once, by the way. And I’m not here with your sister. I’m with you. And these are fab on you.” The sunglasses did look good on Nia, and Nia would have them, she decided. Charly knew Nia came from money—or at least her father had some—but she didn’t care about labels or putting on airs. Three bucks or three thousand didn’t matter to her as long as she