Crazy Hot (Au Pairs)

by Melissa de la Cruz

  Her heart dropped. Was that all? "Oh. Well. I just thought you should know," she said, swallowing the hurt that was building up in her throat. She turned her back and started walking toward the car. She got inside and shut the door, tears starting to well up in her eyes.

  The hot sun poured through the windshield and Mara blinked, trying to see straight. She fumbled in her purse for the keys. Why had she even come over here? What did she think was going to happen?

  There was a rap on the window. She looked up to see Ryan leaning on the car. She pressed the lever and the glass rolled down.

  He exhaled loudly. "Mara. I don't know what you're thinking, showing up here and telling me that. What do you want from me?"

  "I think--I want you" Mara said softly.

  He wrinkled his forehead and shook his head sadly. "That day on the beach--I wanted you to say just that, but you didn't. And

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  honestly . . . every summer we get back together and then you break up with me at the end of it. I mean, what's the point anymore?" His face looked pained, and she couldn't tell if he was more angry or upset.

  She wiped the tears with the back of her hand and nodded vigorously. "Okay." She got it. He wasn't going to wait around for her anymore. Every year it was the same story. Ryan, standing there with his heart wide open, only to have her slam it shut.

  He sighed deeply. "Listen, I need a change. I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I'm going to take a semester, maybe a year, off from Dartmouth and go to London with my family. I want to travel around Europe for a while. I'm not going to be around."

  She blew her nose with a tissue she found in the glove compartment. "I'll see you, Ryan. Take care, okay?" She stuck the keys in the ignition.

  But before she could start the engine, he opened the car door and got into the passenger seat. He turned to look at her, studying her face intently. He let out a long breath. "I'm leaving, but I had this stupid fantasy that maybe you'd want to join me," he said, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.

  Mara blinked. Bum around Europe? All of her unrealized dreams for the summer came back to her in a rush: Gondola rides in Venice. Eating chocolate croissants at sunrise on a bench on the Seine. Touring the winding streets of London in a red double-decker bus. But take a year off from Columbia? She'd always followed the straight and narrow path, had never

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  been the type of girl to derail her long-term plans just because a guy had asked her to.

  She suddenly remembered that poem, the one they made you read at graduation, about the road not taken. This wasn't just any guy, and this wasn't just any offer. Ryan Perry was standing there, giving her another chance. Giving them another chance.

  "I'll do it," she told him.

  "You will?" His face broke into a huge, innocent grin. He looked just as handsome as the day they had met, when he had stepped out of his Aston Martin onto the sidewalk, barefoot. Ryan would always be a free spirit. She would have to learn how to let go a little bit, take his example.

  He leaned across the gearshift and pulled her close. "I love you," she whispered softly.

  "I love you too."

  And then Mara laughed. After a summer's worth of drama, she was finally going to get to see Europe. This time, with the right guy.

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  ANOTHER SUMMER IS GONE, BUT AUTUMN OPENS NEW DOORS. . . .

  "EVERYONE READY?" ELIZA CALLED FROM HER CONVERTIBLE

  that afternoon as she beeped the horn loudly.

  Mara ran out of the front doors, dragging her luggage, Jacqui right behind. The kids gathered around them. Mara gave them all kisses and hugs.

  "Who are you?" Wyatt asked Jacqui.

  Jacqui laughed and ruffled his hair. She'd heard that line before.

  They piled into Elizas convertible. They were all driving back to the city together. Eliza was spending a weekend at home with her mom before heading off to Princeton. Mara had to wrap up a few things at Columbia for her year off before she jetted off to Europe with Ryan, and they were dropping Jacqui off at NYU orientation.

  Eliza took them slowly on the two-lane highway, and they drove through the sleepy hamlets. The sun was shining brightly on the calm ocean, and the surrounding countryside was green and vibrant.

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  "Here," Jacqui said, leaning forward from the backseat and plopping a fat envelope on Mara's lap.

  "What's this?" Mara asked, opening the flap and finding a neat stack of hundred-dollar bills.

  "My share of the au pair salary. It's yours. I didn't earn it--you did."

  "I can't take this!" Mara protested, trying to give it back.

  "Yes, you can." Jacqui nodded fiercely.

  "But what about. . . Don't you need the money?"

  "I did that Japanese commercial, remember? With the payment and residuals, I made enough for tuition," Jacqui said proudly.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Chica, I'm sure. Believe me, the check I got, it's got a lot more zeros than what's in that envelope."

  Mara turned around and gave Jacqui a close hug. "Thank you."

  Jacqui nodded. "I'm not giving up on modeling completely. Christy Turlington graduated from NYU, you know."

  Mara shook her head and smiled.

  The drive back into the city was quick, Eliza speeding around all the other cars with a dainty honk and a giggle. They made it to Washington Square Park by midafternoon, and Eliza parked the car by the curb in front of a building with a big purple NYU flag on the front steps. Jacqui looked out the window and took in the

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  scene, near bursting with happiness. There were so many eager eighteen-year-olds, most with their parents in tow, carrying their purple NYU orientation packets and wearing their NYU Class of ' 11 T-shirts. Sure, they looked a bit like wide-eyed tourists, but she was one of them. And even if her parents couldn't come from Brazil to help her get settled in, she had two people who loved her to see her off, right here in this very car.

  As her eyes scanned the crowd of bobbing heads, she suddenly recognized a very familiar head of blond hair. "Pete!" she yelled excitedly, not stopping to think for a second.

  Mara and Eliza exchanged smirks in the rearview mirror.

  "Is this the famous Pete Rockwood from Indiana?" Mara asked.

  "Pete Rockwood? That sounds familiar. . . . Wait a minute--is this the guy who called the store from his dentist's office?" Eliza pushed her sunglasses up on her head to get a better look at him. "Talk about regulation hottie--this one is off the charts!"

  But Jacqui was getting out of the car so fast she couldn't hear them. She didn't even bother to open the door, instead leaping over the side of the convertible. She ran up to Pete, who was standing under the grand arch in Washington Square Park, surrounded by cardboard boxes and suitcases.

  "What are you doing here?" she said breathlessly as she approached him, not pausing for the usual civilities.

  He put down one of the suitcases he was carrying, looking the slightest bit embarrassed. "I'm a freshman here, actually," he said

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  sheepishly. "Remember when we met? I was in New York because I was wait-listed and had a follow-up interview. I was too embarrassed to admit I hadn't gotten in."

  Jacqui nodded. That sounded familiar. When she was deferred for a year, she'd done the exact same thing.

  "And besides, I didn't want you to think I was just telling you to go to NYU because I would be here." He shrugged. "Although that might have been part of it," he added with a small smile.

  "So it's just fate." Jacqui nodded, smiling.

  "Just fate," Pete agreed. "But what about you? Shouldn't you be in Paris?"

  She shrugged. "Paris will always be there. I'll see it some other time. Isn't that what spring break is for?" She raised an eyebrow and flipped her dark locks over her shoulder.

  Pete grinned at her, his dimples forming irresistibly in either cheek. "So, uh . . . need some help moving into your dorm? If it's not too forward
of me to see your room on our first date," he added quickly. His shy but eager smile said everything, and Jacqui felt that familiar tingle up her spine.

  "You bet." She grinned right back. "But just a second--I've got to say goodbye to my girls."

  Jacqui ran back to the car, her glossy black hair flowing behind her, grinning widely, her face aglow. The three girls hugged one last time.

  "So you're not going to be in New York this year," Eliza said sadly to Mara.

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  "Neither are you," Jacqui reminded Eliza.

  "Princeton isn't too far away," Eliza assured her. "I'll come visit."

  "And I'll write long e-mails, I promise," Mara said. "And you can always read my blog," she added with a grin.

  After one last hug Eliza pulled the car away from the curb. She and Mara waved to Jacqui and Pete until they were mere specks in the distance, two figures standing hopefully beside each other underneath the looming arch of Washington Square Park.

  Eliza steered the car uptown, the late-afternoon light streaming through the windshield. Another summer was over, and they would all be separated once again. But good friends were never too far away in spirit.

  Mara turned on the car radio. They sang along to the Natasha Bedingfield song, the one they knew all the words to, and felt a little better.

  "The rest is still unwritten. ..."

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  www.blogspot/eurogirl1

  Europe is amazing! We got to Italy yesterday, first stop Venice, and everything is even more beautiful than I had imagined. R. and I are having too much fun. This afternoon we went on a gondola ride, where the gondolier was actually wearing a red-and-white-striped shirt and a silly black hat. R. joined in the singing, of course, which was hilarious, if not melodic. I'm currently typing from a Venetian Internet cafe. Did you know they have Internet here now? I had wondered how they'd get the wires through those canals, but apparently my notions are silly and outdated. Italy is just like home, except the pizza is better.

  E. is having a blast at Princeton. She's already in the best eating club and is hard at work on her next collection--preppie basics! Of course. Guess she's taking inspiration from her surroundings. She and J. are going strong and have already booked the church for 2012. Here's hoping she designs the bridesmaids' gowns.

  J. is dating P. at NYU and modeling on the side. They're planning to meet us in Paris for spring break so J. can go to some look-sees (and eat some escargot, obv.). She's been doing a lot of commercial work since the September Vogue came out--but, she assures me, only as much as doesn't interfere with her classes.

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  And in really exciting news, my blog is going to become a book! It sold to a big publishing house that wants to publish next summer. I'm so excited I don't know what to do with myself. My first novel! I even decided on a title yesterday: The Au Pairs. I want the cover to have three girls in bikinis. I know, I know. No sign of the children anywhere. But really--the book is more about the friendships I found there than about the kids or the partying. And, of course, the great guy who made every summer special.

  Till next time,

  Eurogirh

  PS--And no, I still don't have a webcam!

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  Acknowledgments

  The Au Pairs was a great ride, and I'd like to thank everyone who made it a possibility. Writing this book series changed my life, and I am deeply grateful to everyone who made it happen. Emily Meehan and Josh Bank for being the books' godparents. All my fabulous current (and former) editors at Alloy who had a hand in making it wonderful: Sara Shandler, Ben Schrank, Siobhan Vivian, and Joelle Hobeika (thanks especially to Joelle for being so patient with the Crazy Hot drafts!). Thank you to Les Morgenstein for everything. Deep gratitude to Richard Abate and Josie Friedman at ICM who have my back. And Niki Castle, Karen Kenyon, and Colin Graham who help Richard and Josie have my back. Thanks especially to everyone at S&S who were such big cheerleaders for the series: Rick Richter, Elizabeth Law, Jen Bergstrom, Bethany Buck, Carolyn Pohmer and Courtney Bongiolatti. It means so much to me to be part of the S&S family. Thank you to my dear friend Tom Dolby for his steadfast friendship and support. Thanks, Tom, for being so patient with

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  me while I finished this book. We can work on our project now. Thank you to all my friends in New York and Los Angeles. I love you all.

  Thank you to all my dear readers from all over the U.S. and the world (all the way from Sweden, Germany, Poland, and the U.K.) who e-mail, blog and MySpace-friend me. You guys are the best! I love hearing from you, so please keep in touch by writing me at melissa@melissa-delacruz.com .

  Thank you to my amazing family--the DLCs: Mommy, Papa, and Chito. The Greens: Aina, Steve, Nicholas, and Joseph. The Johnstons: Mom J., Dad J., John, Anji, Alex, Tim, Rob, Jenn, Val, and Lily. The Gaisanos: Tita Odette, Isabelle, and Tina. The Torres family: Tita Sony, Tito Badong, Mandy, Stevie, and Miggy. And all the Ongs and de la Cruzes who are too numerous to mention, but especially my nieces Mica Calangi and Bianca Ong, who are big fans of the books!

  Thank you to Nubia Alvarez, who helps me be a working mom.

  And most importantly, thank you to the loves of my life, Mike Johnston and Mattie Johnston. I thought of you every minute I was writing this book.

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  Don't miss this sizzling read by Melissa de la Cruz

  Angels on sunset Boulevard

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  FROM ABOVE THEY LOOKED EXACTLY LIKE A MASS OF

  buzzing locusts, swelling in a faceless, amorphous, intolerable hunger, growing louder and larger every minute. Taj continued to peek out of the curtains of the topmost penthouse of the Chateau Marmont to get a better look. She bit the top of her thumb anxiously. This was totally out of control. They were chanting his name. Screaming it, even.

  "Johnny! Johnny! Johnny!

  "Johnny! Johnny! Johnny!"

  There must have been hundreds of them--maybe even thousands. Taj wasn't sure. Some were holding up

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  signs, johnny silver is my idol!!! we love you johnny!!!

  WILL YOU MARRY ME JOHNNY?? JOHNNY SILVER ROCKS!!!!!

  Waving bouquets of white lilies. (His favorite flower, according to his TAP profile.) Pointing their cell-phone cameras to the sky. Crying into their glitter press-on Johnny Silver T-shirts.

  She noticed that traffic on Sunset Boulevard was backed up in all directions, and there were even policemen on horseback trying to manage the crowd. It was absolute mayhem, madness, total insanity. This was the Beatles landing in New York, this was Michael Jackson dangling Prince Michael III off the balcony in Berlin, this was Gwen Stefani in the middle of Tokyo.

  Taj pulled the curtains firmly shut, and her tiny gesture sent a ripple through the crowd down below--the roar intensified. She raked a hand through her long, blunt-cut bob of shiny black hair. The severe cut could have been disastrous, but it only served to highlight the exquisite proportions of her beautiful face: large, slightly slanted green eyes, an adorable button nose, that sharp, Keira Knightley chin. She was model-slim and stunning in her striped French sailor's top layered underneath a shrunken antique denim jacket, tight cutoff leggings, and incongruous red patent Doc Martens. Taj didn't dress like anyone else in Los

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  Angeles, where the female population tended toward midriff-baring sweats or plunging jersey V-neck tops. Instead she always looked like she'd stepped out of a funky avant-garde European photo shoot. Edie Sedgwick for a new generation.

  She stepped away from the window and took a deep breath. She was not prepared for this. She was not prepared for any of it.

  For a moment Taj wondered if it was all a dream. The lavish penthouse suite, the screaming fans, the Rolling Stone cover shoot that was underway in the next room.

  Tonight Johnny was headlining at the Viper Room, to launch his new album. It was meant to be a small, intimate concert, VIPs and industry insiders on
ly, but demand was so intense, they opened it up to the public. When tickets went at record-breaking levels--two and then four more dates were added. Now his label was talking world tour, even before he had sold one copy. Stadiums in Germany, airfields in France, the Staples Center. They were talking laser light shows, digital projection screens, adding a twenty-piece string orchestra and a gospel choir. It was going to be a production, an event, bigger than Woodstock, bigger than Lollapalooza, bigger than anything the world had ever seen.

  And it had all started on TAP

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  With a simple TAP request.

  JohnnyS11 wants to be your friend. Approve? Deny?

  Taj had checked out his page--noted the moody, black-and-white photo of Johnny bent over a guitar, his white-blond bangs covering half his face. Made a note of his interests: taxidermy, ukelele, the Church of the Sub-Genius. Usually Taj never approved requests from boys she didn't know. So many of them were simply collectors, posting up pictures of half-naked women on their sites like baseball cards. The collectors always wanted to know if she had a webcam (she didn't). Her TAP icon was like a magnet for the crazies and the weirdos. But JohnnyS11's friend list was a normal array of slacker boys and nerdy-chic girls. His quote was the usual Andy Warhol one about fame, except in reverse: "In fifteen minutes, everybody will be famous." Taj was intrigued. She'd clicked Approve.

  A few days later there was an e-mail message.

  Check out my new show. Johnny Silver's Manic Hour.

  It was on a college radio station Taj sometimes listened to late at night. Most of the time it was utter crap--just a bunch of pretentious college kids playing