It means estimating something as worthless. “It’s the longest real word in the English language. I fingered the tiny red print running along the middle of my navy T-shirt. Although we might have time for an emergency makeover. “Are we playing the question game here?” She twisted back toward me, her heels clicking on the tile. Although, if I was drowning, how was I standing up? If I had drowned (or maybe I was in the process of drowning and this was an inbetween-being-alive-and-dead hallucination?), at least my parents wouldn’t have to fish me out of the tub naked. I took that as my cue to throw on my shirt and tug my jeans onto my still-wet legs. “Darling, there’s no need for modesty.” Still, she kicked my clothes across the room and turned around. Who was this woman, and how had she floated in that bubble like Glinda from The Wizard of Oz? Most important, why was she here, with me? Had I drowned? “Why…why are you in my bathroom?” I clutched the towel even closer to my dripping skin. It took me a few moments to find my voice post-scream. Her hair was a shocking shade of chartreuse green. She looked like she’d arrived straight from a fashion runway, except for one thing.

Everything about her was sophisticated, from her creamy brown skin to her perfectly plucked eyebrows and sharp features. The only thing stronger than her citrusy perfume was her air of importance. The short woman, dressed in a black pinstriped business suit and open-toed heels, placed her hand on her hip. “If we’re going to work together, your manners will need serious help.” And jaws were not meant to drop that low.” The woman standing in front of me shut my gaping mouth with one long finger. “Human eardrums were not meant for sounds that loud. I fumbled for a hand towel, wiped off the suds, and screamed. Soap splattered the walls, and foam covered my face. It grew until there wasn’t any room left.

I wrapped myself in my towel and backed away from the soapy apparition. I wondered if my dad would count insanity as an excuse for me to quit.

Obviously, the groundhog costume fumes caused hallucinations. I jumped out of the tub as the bubble neared the size of a yoga ball. The bubble was now the size of a watermelon, and blooming by the second. I rubbed my eyes, thinking the bath soap had blurred my vision. One bubble rose out of the bath toward the ceiling. When I sat up, head swimming, the bubbles floated around me. I slid under the bubbles, holding my breath until I couldn’t take it anymore. “Hey, Meredith! Take this!” The newspaper fluttered as it sailed across the room. Why would they use such expensive ink and not even leave a number or last name? The ad didn’t even have a contact number! All it said was “Please call Meredith.”

Princess for Hire by Lindsey Leavitt