10
Lucy
Once upon a time, it may have been possible to hide from your mistakes. The past could stay there, along with regrets and bad ideas. There was time to let the wound heal, for it to scab over and scar. But not now. Now they hover just below the surface, always festering, fresh and bloody.
That’s how I feel about learning about The Next Big Model: Redemption.
I should be thankful Finley gave me a heads-up before Fiona took the news to the media. I did thank her when she asked me to meet her for coffee down near the Pier before my shift starts.
As I walk up, Finley eyes the stocking cap pulled over my ears and the big glasses covering my eyes.
“You like them?” I ask, pulling off the glasses. “I got them at the end of season sale at the Beaded Peacock.”
“I can’t tell if you’re trying to stay low profile or have everyone look at you.” She steps up to the counter and orders from the barista. “I mean, on anyone else, that’s a lot to take in. On you? It’s perfect, as always.”
Finley is a great friend. Direct, and totally saved me when I needed somewhere to live, but she’s a fashion nightmare. At the moment, she’s wearing an Ocean Grove Academy hoodie and track pants. I’m definitely not trusting her opinion on anything.
“Iced coffee,” I say. “Black.”
The barista nods, her bangs falling into her eyes. I feel her watch me for a minute too long and slip my glasses back on and face my friend.
“One of the best things about private school is these random breaks we get,” Finley says. “Makes it easier to meet up.”
“How’s everything going at The Academy?”
She shrugs. “Okay. Same old. SATs, homecoming, grades.”
I force myself to ignore a twist of jealousy hearing all that. “How’s Chase?”
“Busy with college. It’s hard balancing soccer and academics, but you know he’s a pro at multi-tasking.”
“Balancing you, too.” I nudge her and she blushes.
“Yeah, he’s worked hard for his success,” she says, ignoring my comment. “I think it’s important for him to make his name on his own, you know? Something not connected to his mother.”
“Yeah,” I agree, unable to imagine what it’s like to have family connections like that. Roots, even. “Speaking of…did you talk to Fiona?”
“I did, but I haven’t told her where you are or how to get in touch with you.”
“And Chase won’t say anything?”
Our coffees are pushed across the counter. We thank her and move to table outside. “Chase isn’t fond of his mother using him to reach out to his friends. You know how he feels about all of this.”
Chase grew up in the shadow of his supermodel mother. It’s always been a sore spot and they’ve only recently reconnected. His mother hosting the show and my aspirations to be on it are a strange twist of fate. “Tell him I appreciate it.”
“I will,” Finley says. “But you know this is happening with or without you, right?”
“Yeah, I figured. I’m not the only model to flame out of that show.”
Finley glares at me. “You didn’t flame out. They put you in a really difficult position and you held your ground.”
“After having a total meltdown.”
She takes a well-timed sip of her drink. There’s no getting past that one. “Look, Luce, you can obviously do what you want, but if you want my opinion—”
“I don’t.”
“But if you did, I would suggest you do it.”
“Why? So I can embarrass myself all over again? No thanks, Finley.”
She leans forward, her long brown hair blowing in the cool ocean breeze. A pair of gulls dive into the ocean, fighting over the same fish. “No, so you can get past all this. Face your fears. Show the world that you’re not just a spoiled, entitled brat that’s completely focused on her looks.”
“Ouch, F.” I place my cup on the table, feeling nauseous. “What if I am that person? What if I can’t get past it? What if there’s nothing else for me out there?”
“Then I guess that’s it. You go down in TV history as the girl who had a meltdown over a stupid haircut, work at the Pie Whole, and forget your dreams.”
She and I both know that’s not all I lost. Friends, family, a home…the list is endless. How do I even begin to recover all those things? “Doing the show again won’t bring back everything I risked the first time.”
She sighs. “You’re right. It won’t, but there’s one thing I’d like to have back.”
“What’s that?” Two people walk by, looking at us, and I push up my glasses.
“My confident, assured, amazing friend.” She reaches for me, tugging the cap off my head. Wind rushes through my shaggy hair and I feel bald all over again. “I miss your smile, Lucy.”
I snatch the hat back and pull it back over my head, way down to my ears. I smile at my friend, both of us knowing it’s fake, but for the first time in a long while I want the same thing she does: to have the old Lucy back.
We spend the rest of our coffee time talking about Academy gossip and staying away from my career.
“How’s the pizza place?” she asks.
“It’s okay. My co-workers are fun to work with. Other than the toddlers and this one guy that keeps coming in, the customers are nice enough.”
“What’s wrong with the guy?” Finley asks.
“Ugh.” I roll my eyes. “He recognized me from the show and has been back with his friends a few times. He’s an actor or a wannabe actor or something. All abs and chiseled jaw. Perfect for that show he’s on, Avondale.”
She grips my arm. “He’s on Avondale?”
Her voice rises two octaves.
I give her a weird look. “Well, mostly extra work from what I can tell, but Jennifer says he keeps getting better opportunities.”
“I. Love. Avondale,” Finley says in a breathless voice. “Like, it’s totally my guilty pleasure. It’s so crazy and cracked-out that it makes everything in my life seem sane.” She grabs my phone off the table and thrusts it to me. “Show me his picture.”
“What?” I’ve never seen her so excited. “Where?”
“Google him. Whatever.” Tired of waiting for me, she picks up her own phone. “What’s his name?”
“Dean Turner.”
She nods. “Oh right, he was in the arts program at Ocean Grove High when I went there. Not that we crossed paths.” Finley is a basketball star. She was definitely not in the arts program. Her fingers move quickly over the screen and her eyes light up. “Is this him?”
She turns the photo and it’s a gossip site congratulating him on his expanded role on Avondale. Of course, his career is moving forward while mine is stalled. “Yep, that’s him.”
“Yeah, he’s hot. The fangroups are always talking about him.’
“You visit the fangroups?”
“I told you. Guilty pleasure.” She shrugs and looks at his photo again. “I’m not surprised they’re giving him a bigger role.”
“He’s very persistent,” I say.
She laughs. “Sounds like Chase. It’s not a bad quality in a guy.”
“It is in this guy,” I grumble, not sure why he’s so under my skin. “He thinks everything is so easy. He’s like some kind of Tony Robbins, motivational guy.” I deepen my voice and mock, “Just keep trying, brushing off rejection and failure like it’s no big deal.”
She watches me carefully. “Lucy…have you been talking to Dean Turner?”
“Not on purpose. Like I said, he’s persistent.”
“Maybe he’s the kind of person you should talk to more. He does understand what it’s like to deal with the industry and rejection.”
“No, thanks. I want to model, not get involved with self-absorbed actors.”
Her phone buzzes, she looks down and grimaces.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Do you really want to see it?”
I take the phone fro
m her. It’s a photo from our friend Lauren and it’s a picture of me from the show. The headline in bold: Will Lucy Show Her Face on TNBM Redemption?
A quick scroll through the comments says no, no one thinks I will.
“Don’t read those,” Finley says, reaching for the phone. “You know the comment section is the cesspool of the internet.”
I keep reading though, looking at all the nasty things people have to say. I’m ugly. I’m vain. I’m an idiot for not listening to Fiona. That obviously I’m too self-righteous to show my face on the new season.
A different feeling rolls though me. Not sadness. Not upset. But anger. How dare they assume all that stuff about me?
I wait for Finley to try to pep me up again, but she doesn’t, checking the time instead. “I’ve got conditioning this afternoon, so I should probably go. See you soon?”
“Definitely,” I say, although I can’t stop thinking about those comments. “About Fiona…”
“I won’t tell her anything until you make up your mind, okay? I mean, I think she already knows it’s a long shot. Getting you back on the stage would take an act of God at this point.”
“Thanks.” I’m about to tell her to go ahead and let Fiona know there’s no way I’m doing the redemption show, but something keeps me from doing it.
Something that I look at once Finley is gone and I’m heading back to my car.
I open my phone and pull up the photo of Dean Tuner again. Even in a quick photo, his confidence is hard to miss, and slowly an idea blooms in my mind. Maybe I’ve been going about this all wrong? Maybe my friends are right?
If, and it’s a big if, I’m going to consider going back on The Next Big Model, I’m going to need some help.
And I think I know who to ask.
11
Dean
The final bell rings and I step out of the school and into the parking lot. Amanda Peterson, my co-lead from the last school play, follows me, trying to talk me into auditioning for the show this fall; the drama teacher announced that we’re doing Hairspray.
“You’d make an amazing Link Larkin.”
“I’d love to, but I don’t think I’ll have time with my other obligations.” The Avondale stuff is picking up steam and between that, keeping up with school work, and my gym workouts, there’s only so much time in the day.
She pouts like she she’s disappointed, but I can tell she’s not surprised.
“It’s awesome you’re working more,” she says. “I mean, it’s kind of the dream, but I hate that it keeps you so busy. We had a lot of fun running lines last year together.”
Amanda is a pretty girl. Long blonde hair. Amazing figure. Last year, we spent a lot of time together and I know she wanted me to ask her out. The problem is, I just don’t have time for dating. I meant what I’d just told her. I do love working on the school shows, and spending more time with Amanda wouldn’t be a chore at all.
“I’m excited. I’m going in two days next week, but that only means I’ll have a ton of catch-up work at school.”
“Yeah, but you’ll get to work with actual actors and get paid.” She smiles warmly and touches my arm. “This is the real deal.”
I glance down at her hand, not hating it. Maybe Tommy was right. Maybe I am missing out on some of the good stuff. I’m considering this when I glance toward the parking lot and do a double-take.
Amanda looks, too. “Who’s that?”
It’s a girl wearing a dark stocking cap pulled down to her ears, leggings, and a crop top covered by a long cardigan. From where I stand, I can see her fine cheekbones and bright blue eyes. What is she doing here? “That’s uh…someone I know.” I give Amanda a smile. “Talk to you soon, okay?”
“Sure.” The smile she gives me is Oscar-worthy. I feel the annoyance she has for me leaving her to talk to another girl.
I don’t really care. Curiosity has definitely got the best of me.
“You’re definitely not who I expected to see today,” I say, walking up to Lucy. She’s standing by a brick wall separating the parking lot from the sidewalk.
“Hey,” she says, pushing her hands in her cardigan pockets.
“What are you doing here?” Not convinced it’s to see me.
Her jaw tenses as though she’s forcing herself to talk to me. “I was looking for you, actually. I had no idea how else to find you.”
“You could have sent me a DM on ChattySnap.”
“I don’t use social media,” she says. “Well, not anymore.”
Yeah, I’d stalked her. Her once very active, very popular account had been deactivated. I lean against the wall. “Well, you found me. What’s up?”
Students pass us by and there’s no doubt many are checking us out. I’m a well-known student, popular, and Lucy? Well, no matter how hard she tries to hide it, she’s incredibly beautiful.
She glances nervously around, like a scared mouse, obviously aware of the attention. I get the feeling she could bolt at any moment.
“Is there anywhere more private we can talk?”
“Yeah,” I say, thinking about it quickly. “I’m meeting my agent this afternoon, but I’ve got a few minutes. Follow me.”
I lead her around the side of the school, going away from the students. There’s a back entry to the theater and a loading dock. We come out here during rehearsals to take a break. There’s no one back here at the moment.
I hop up on the loading dock and pat the surface next to me. She makes no effort to move next to me, instead standing with her arms crossed over her chest.
“Okay, what gives? What’s this about?”
She rocks on her heels and tucks a short piece of hair behind her ear. “Look, I screwed up,” she blurts suddenly, “like, majorly screwed up my life with that Next Big Model thing. I can admit it.”
“Okay…” I frown. “I mean, I don’t think this is exactly new information.”
“I told you, they want me back on the show and as much as I hate the idea, I actually think I want to do it.” She stops and shakes her head. “No, I don’t want to do it. I have to do it. For myself.” Her beautiful eyes are rimmed in red. “Fiona has pushed the theme into the media, which means everyone is already talking about me. There’s no escaping this, and I think that if I don’t show up, it only confirms what everyone thinks about me. That I’m shallow and vain.”
“I don’t think everyone thinks that,” I say, but there’s some truth there. Critics are harsh.
“I lost myself out there, Dean, and I want to find my way back.”
The way she says my name feels like a string tugging at my chest. I’m not one to get caught up in the emotions of this business, that’s how you struggle. But this girl, she’s like a bundle of raw nerves and it’s hard not to feel it.
“I can respect your thought process on this.” I hop off the platform. “But why are you telling me?”
She swallows and wipes a tear off her face. “Because if I’m going to go back on that show and face Fiona and the world, I’m going to need help, and I think you may be the one person that can give it to me.”
That comes as a surprise. “How exactly can I help you?”
“You get this business. You’re tough. You told me that you’ve had to deal with rejection, learn from it, roll on. I need to know how to do that.”
Like with Amanda, I’m going to have to let her down. “I appreciate you asking, but I’m swamped with my own life right now, I don’t think I have the time to help you get back on track.”
She looks up, a little offended. “You don’t have time for me? You were the one following me around!”
“Yeah, and you rejected me.” I cross my arms over my chest and smile. “See? I learned from that rejection; don’t get involved with Lucy Harrington.”
Her fists ball and her shoulders shrug upward, and up close I can see the strip of skin under her crop top. It’s not inappropriate, or even trashy looking. It’s hot. It’s perfect. That strip of revealed skin is part of the l
ingering confidence that attracted me to her in the first place. This girl may think she’s out of the game, but even low-key like this, there’s something about her that’s different from other girls.
And that’s the girl I want to spend time with, not the one freaking out in front of me.
“So you really won’t help me?”
“I don’t think you understand how busy I am and how well-managed my life is. I’m finally seeing some real success and it didn’t come from…” I sweep my eyes over her, “wasting my time on lost causes.”
Her jaw drops. “You know what? Never mind. I knew you were too egotistical to actually mean any of that stuff you were saying.”
“Oh, I mean it. I just don’t think you’re ready for it.”
She stands before me, face pinched, jaw working but no words coming out. Her cheeks are red, turning a shade that matches her plump lips, and there’s a fire sparking in her eyes and man, it’s like a different person. That’s the girl that takes over the world.
“Whatever,” she says, turning and storming off. “I was an idiot for thinking you’d help me anyway.”
I don’t stop her when she goes, but I do watch her storm away, thinking I most likely just dodged a bullet. With the trajectory of my career, the last thing I need is a liability like Lucy Harrington bringing me down.
I manage to get to my appointment early and take a seat in the waiting room. I’m glad there’s a few minutes before I have to go in, because I’m still annoyed by my encounter with Lucy at the school. No wonder she’s such a mess. There’s no room for emotion in this business—I learned that a long time ago.
Truth be told, I wasn’t one of those people that always knew what I wanted to do. I’d been into sports as a kid—swimming and surfing, mostly. That’s actually where I was discovered. Marissa needed a kid for a surf school commercial and she saw me out on the water with my dad. She walked up, asked if I wanted to make three-hundred dollars, and we made a deal.
Lucy and The Love Pact: Young Adult Fake Romance (Love in Ocean Grove Book 2) Page 4