Chapter 3

I saw the show's script later. They had the whole thing planned out.

First, I was supposed to play the spoiled city kid who turned up her nose at a simple country meal and refused to eat. Then I was supposed to get so hungry that I broke down crying and begged to go home.

By the end, country life was supposed to teach me a lesson, and I'd tearfully promise never to be picky again.

Mr. Dawson, the director, was so sure that was how things would go that he set up five cameras, ready to catch every tear.

Then they served the first meal, and everyone froze.

It was nothing fancy. There were mashed potatoes, roast chicken, green beans, and gravy.

Every camera turned toward me, waiting for me to make a face.

I did frown, just not for the reason they thought. The mashed potatoes smelled way too good to trust.

After six years of eating at home, I knew better than to trust food that smelled that nice. There had to be something wrong with it. My mouth watered, but I still didn't dare take a bite.

Mr. Dawson crouched down beside me. "Maisie, you don't like it?"

"I'm scared I won't be able to chew it," I said quietly.

For one whole second, nobody said a word.

Ms. Latimer, the older lady I was staying with, blinked and pushed my plate a little closer. "Honey, the mashed potatoes are soft."

Soft? Mashed potatoes could actually be soft?

I didn't believe her. I'd never had mashed potatoes that weren't hard.

But the other kids were already digging in, eating as fast as they could. They cleaned their plates in no time, and not one of them broke a tooth.

Then my stomach let out a huge growl.

Everyone heard it. The comments immediately started flooding in.

"LOL! Looks like the Picky Princess is finally going to eat!"

I finally took a tiny bite of mashed potatoes, half expecting to bite down on a nail. The second they hit my tongue, I froze.

They were actually soft!

They didn't hurt my teeth. They weren't hard, they didn't taste burnt, and there wasn't a nail hiding inside.

I tried a green bean next. It was a little sweet and crisp. Even the color looked normal.

Then I tried the roast chicken and gravy. The chicken tasted like chicken, and the gravy tasted like gravy.

That was when I burst into tears.

Mr. Dawson panicked. He thought I was crying because I hated the food.

He called out, "Cut! Cut! You don't like it?"

Still crying, I pulled my plate closer and started shoveling food into my mouth.

"It's good! It's so good!" I cried through a mouthful.

I ate three huge helpings. Tears kept falling onto my plate, but I didn't even stop to wipe them away.

Then I looked up at Ms. Latimer hopefully. "Is there more?"

The viewers immediately started reacting.

"And she's supposed to be picky??"

"The whole Picky Princess thing fell apart on day one. That has to be a record."

"She's crying while she eats like she hasn't had a decent meal in forever."

"Seriously, what were they feeding this kid at home?"

Mom and Dad were watching from home, and they looked more horrified by the second.

Mr. Dawson seemed to realize something was going on.

"Maisie, why don't you eat at home?" he asked.

I clutched my plate and sniffled.

I didn't know what to say at first. Grandpa had told me not to tell people about stuff from home. But the food tasted so good that I forgot all about his warning.

"Dad's soup has green bubbles, and Mom's mashed potatoes are so hard they're like nails. I'm scared to eat their food."

Ms. Latimer looked doubtful. "Maybe she just doesn't like the food at home. Or maybe she's making it sound worse than it is?"

The crew seemed skeptical too. They thought I might be exaggerating.

Right then, I reached into my backpack and pulled out the lunch Mom had packed for me. She'd made it for me to eat on the way there, but I hadn't dared touch it.

"Mom made this. You guys can try it."

Ms. Latimer was the first to take a bite of the mashed potatoes. She chewed three times, then froze.

"These are mashed potatoes? At my age, I almost lost a tooth."

One of the younger cameramen didn't believe her, so he tried a bite of the vegetables. Three seconds later, he went pale, then green. He covered his mouth and ran straight out of the room.

Another crew member took a bite but didn't even dare chew. He quietly walked over to a corner, turned his back to the camera, and spat it out onto the floor.

When he came back, he looked at me with a whole new respect.

The viewers lost it.

"So the Picky Princess isn't picky. She's just trying to stay alive!"

Mom and Dad were watching from home, and their faces went green when they saw that comment.