Kiss n Tell

by Suzy McCoppin

  I took a deep breath. What harm would it really do to text Austin? At the very least, it would get Stella off my back for the rest of the night. He was his own man. He could decline the invite. Maybe he’d even come and bring Anais along so the two of us could reunite and figure out a way to coexist despite my Shrew Crew status and best frenemy’s rabid crush on her boyfriend. I typed something quick and vague about coming to Chateau to scope out celebrities, leaving Stella and the DTF thing out of it. I inhaled, surveying the beautiful people I now called my friends: Chloe, cupping a perfectly manicured hand over Ava’s ear; Stella, with her dewy face lighting up at the punch line to one of Miller’s stories; and Xander, looking sleepy on the couch, his arm hanging casually over the back. For a second I felt like I was on top of a mountain. But if I had known the chain reaction that would ensue, I would have stayed on the couch with my folks watching the Friday night lineup on ABC.

  26.

  BREAKING NEWS

  Anais

  Just before Christmas, I received the email from the man interested in investing in our site. The next day, he sent his official offer. $25,000 for ten percent of KissnTell.com. He came to the amount based on the number of hits we get per day and on the assumption that we could maintain that level of traffic. He would pay the full $25,000 up front. I accepted his offer (obviously), without consulting Vaughn. I guess I should have thought twice, but these were desperate times and as far as I was concerned, she was out of the business, even though she still technically had webmaster privileges and access to our Paypal account.

  The very same day, I scanned, emailed, and overnighted the signed agreement to the investor’s fancy lawyer at his firm on Avenue of the Stars. I tried to understand the terms since I couldn’t afford my own lawyer but the truth was, I didn’t care if I was signing myself into indentured servitude. I just wanted that money so my mom could get her surgery and everything would be okay. Or at least have a shot at being okay without putting us in massive credit card debt. The Monday after New Year’s, the payment was transferred to the KissnTell Paypal account. Now it had been over a week, and I still hadn’t told my mom that I had enough money to pay for her surgery. I didn’t know how.

  I don’t know what I was afraid of. The woman had cancer, for Christ’s sake. She wasn’t going to get all wrapped up in the details of how I came across the money. She’d just be thrilled to finally schedule her surgery without worrying about what to do when the bill comes. Right? I cracked my bedroom door open and peered down the corridor. I could see her slippered feet bouncing nervously on the coffee table as she soaked in some sitcom. She was obviously trying to distract herself from her sickness and our financial woes, but Two and a Half Men, or whatever the hell she was watching, clearly wasn’t doing the trick. I had to take her out of her misery, even if it meant revealing the truth about myself—that I was a lying hooligan, an underage entrepreneur, and a peddler of inane celebrity gossip. I waited for a commercial and sat down next to her, muting the TV

  She frowned at me. “What’s up, babe?” she asked, her eyes wide.

  I took a breath. “I need to talk to you,” I said.

  She propped herself up on her elbows, sitting up straighter. “Sounds serious,” she said warily.

  I shrugged. “It is, but …” I hesitated, trying to gauge her mood before continuing. She mostly just looked like she was bracing herself for some massive bomb like, “I’m pregnant!” or “I’m expelled!” or something equally shaming.

  “But …?” she urged, her features forming sharp lines on her typically angelic face. “But it’s ultimately a good thing, okay?” I said, raising my eyebrows at her.

  She nodded furiously, encouraging me to get to the point. I swallowed, letting myself sink into the couch. I watched a Crystal Light commercial, its phony, bright slices of cheer danced on the screen, and I inhaled.

  “I have the money for your surgery,” I said finally.

  My mom flinched. She looked like she had been slapped. She shook her head. “What are you talking about?” she asked softly. My heart started to pound. She looked terrified.

  “I started a website,” I began, trying to explain this as simply as possible. “With Vaughn. At first it was just for fun but then advertisers started paying us for space and—”

  “Wait,” my mom interrupted, shaking her head. “You started a website?” she asked, incredulous.

  I nodded.

  “How?” she pressed.

  I shrugged. “I took that HTML class last year, remember?” I said, trying to keep it simple.

  My mom ran her fingers through her hair, flummoxed. “The computer thing?” she asked, squinting at me.

  “Um, yeah, I guess,” I started. “HTML is the language of the web. I learned some basics and then we met Austin and …”

  “Austin?” my mom said, hopeful. She had a bit of a soft spot for him, I could tell. “He’s part of this, too?” she asked.

  I nodded lamely. “I lied to you,” I said. “I didn’t really meet Austin at the Laemlee.” My mom frowned. “He’s a paparazzo,” I continued. “A photographer,” I said more softly, fidgeting with my t-shirt. “He’s been giving us exclusives on his pictures in exchange for a percentage of the profits.”

  “Profits?” my mom murmured. She wasn’t catching on. I sighed, taking her laptop, which she only used for email, from the other end of the sectional. I opened Internet Explorer and went to KissnTell. I turned the screen toward her. She pulled it onto her lap, stunned. She looked at it, then looked at me, then back to it, then back to me.

  “You made this?” she asked, finally.

  I smiled. “Yes,” I said. “And see these adds?” I asked, pointing to them. My mom nodded. “People pay us for those,” I said. She looked at me, amazed. “Not much, but the other day, a man offered us money in exchange for a percentage of the site. And, well, it’s a lot of money,” I said. “Enough for your surgery, anyway.”

  My mom swallowed, obviously processing everything. She shook her head. “So this is what you’ve been up to, all those afternoons with Austin? All those nights out?” she asked. I nodded. “Are you and Austin really dating?” she asked.

  I laughed. “Yes, we’re really dating.”

  “Is he really nineteen?” she asked.

  I laughed again. “Yes, he’s really nineteen. His photographs are paying his college tuition next year,” I explained. She nodded, impressed. I could see she had started to cry.

  “I don’t know what to say,” she said lightly, wiping her nose. I put my arm around her.

  She looked at me, her eyes moist and glistening. “I can’t believe you did this,” she said. “I knew you were smart but …” she shook her head. “I’m so proud of you.”

  I exhaled, relieved she was reacting so well to the news. “I had a lot of help,” I said, thinking of Austin.

  “Everyone does,” my mom replied. I shrugged. “Are you sure you don’t want to use the money for—”

  “Mom,” I said sternly, interrupting her. “No.”

  She smiled. “Thank you,” she said, taking a deep breath. “You’re amazing. You amaze me.”

  She pulled me into a tight hug. Relief rushed through me as she ran her hand over my back. It was going to be okay. I started to cry. Everything would be okay. I sighed, prying myself away from her, wiping my eyes. She smiled at me sadly. She was so pretty with her high cheekbones, heart-shaped face, huge, slanted eyes, and thick auburn hair. She was so pretty it was weird. I gave her a little nudge.

  “Now go schedule that surgery,” I said.

  * * *

  Austin called me on his way over. He was picking me up to go on a date-slash-scouting, either dinner at KOI, where he had heard Miley Cyrus was dining, or bowling at Lucky Strike to stalk the Jonas Brothers. My love life was literally at the whims of the Disney Channel set, but I didn’t care, because I now knew for sure how Austin felt about me. He loved me. He was in love with me. Austin was in love with me, and my mom was going
to be okay.

  “Babe,” he said softly. “I’m on my way, but I thought I should tell you,” he paused. I could hear his turn signal clicking in the background. “I got a strange message from Vaughn,” he said.

  “Vaughn?” I exclaimed, dropping my eyeliner. “My Vaughn?”

  He chuckled. “That’s cute,” he murmured. “Do I know any other Vaughns?”

  “What’d she say?” I asked, picking at the corner of my desk.

  “She wants us to come to the Chateau Marmont. Says she has an in there. She gave me a password.”

  I frowned, picking my eyeliner up off the floor. “Well,” I started, uneasy, “sounds like she only invited you. She would’ve messaged me directly if she wanted me to come,” I said, shifting my weight. “Why would she only invite you?”

  “I dunno, I kinda took it as an olive branch or something …” Austin offered.

  “A what?”

  “You know, like an apology,” he said.

  “I know what an olive branch is, I just don’t think that sounds like Vaughn,” I said. “She’s too stubborn to apologize and even if she was desperate enough to, she’s too impatient to go through unnecessary channels. She would’ve been in touch directly, I know it.” There was a strange sound on the other end of the line. Austin was laughing at me.

  “Interesting hypothesis, Dr. Martel,” he teased.

  “Fuck you, I’m serious!”

  He sighed. “Well, it’s completely up to you, but I think we should go. The Chateau is crawling with famous people every night of the week. I rarely try my luck there because it’s such a bitch to get past security. But if Vaughn can get us in …” He trailed off.

  I bit my thumb, my heart racing. The whole thing was suspicious. It felt like a trap. Like when Xander invited us to his party so the Shrew Crew could drug us. Except it was Vaughn. Best friend, near-sister, shoulder to cry on, partner in crime, and whatever other goofball clichés are out there, Vaughn. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t miss her. And I just couldn’t believe she’d be capable of that kind of evil.

  “Okay,” I said, pulling a hot roller out of my hair. “I hope you’re right. You know, about the olive branch thing.”

  “I know I am,” he said, his voice thick and sexy.

  I smiled. “Now get your ass over here,” I said.

  “Yes m’am.”

  I hung up and turned to my closet. One thing was for sure: getting dressed was a helluva lot easier when Vaughn was around to give me a hand. I brushed my hair out as I scanned the rack for something acceptable. My eyes landed on a black lace American Apparel mini dress Vaughn had peer pressured me into buying months ago. I hadn’t ever worked up the gall to wear it. I pulled it off the plastic hanger, determined, tugging it over my annoyingly ample bosom and hips. I smoothed out my granny panties so they wouldn’t show through. While I had updated my bras, which was more out of necessity than desire, I still clung to the cotton Jockeys and Fruit of the Looms I’d been wearing pretty much since I’d been out of diapers. My mom tried to talk me into some Betsey Johnson thongs, but they were just way too itchy. I turned to the mirror.

  My makeup was smoky. My hair fell in loose waves past my shoulders. The whole look seemed completed with the sultry dress, which bordered on trashy, but I didn’t care. If I was going to face Vaughn and the Shrew Crew, I needed to channel someone ballsy like Ava Gardner or Angelina Jolie. No more pussyfooting around dressed as the girl next door.

  My phone blared. It was Austin, who was waiting outside, keeping the car warm for me. I stepped into some plain, black heels and scampered down the hall. When I passed my mom on the way to the door, her eyes bulged out of her head.

  “Okay, who are you and what have you done with my daughter?” she asked. I laughed nervously, feeling my face flush. “Is it okay?” I asked.

  My mom frowned, picking herself up from the couch. “If you’re gonna wear something like that, you better be confident. Here,” she said, approaching me. She adjusted the top where my Victoria’s Secret pushup was peeking out. “You look great,” she whispered, winking at me. I smiled, heading for the door. “Just don’t do anything stupid,” she called after me sternly. I nodded, closing the door behind me.

  * * *

  I could see the white Chateau looming over Sunset, a red and blue neon sign marking its entrance, and my heart started to pound. There wasn’t a building in the entire country more legendary for debauchery and drama, and even in my sexy little dress, my face all painted, even with my gorgeous boyfriend’s gorgeous brown eyes glinting at me in the traffic lights, I most definitely wasn’t ready for it. I swallowed hard and tried to focus on catching my breath as Austin pulled into the valet. As usual, he tipped the guy handsomely, and we made our way up the stairs and past reception to the shadowy lobby, where only the most privileged people in L.A. seemed to belong.

  A large bouncer in a suit that probably cost more than my mom’s car stood before the second of three vaulted archways, which overlooked a pristine lounge. He glared at me as I craned my neck to see over his shoulder, bracing for familiar faces—famous or not. Then Austin did the strangest thing. He put a hand on my back, smirked at the bouncer and said the words “white rabbit” clearly and confidently. I frowned, suddenly feeling like I’d been sucked into a weird David Lynch movie. But the bouncer just sort of nodded once and stepped aside so we could join the throngs of attractive people inside.

  “Guess Vaughn’s password worked,” Austin whispered as he lead me down a couple of steps and over to a tufted paisley couch flanked by two mahogany-footed armchairs, where Vaughn, Stella Beldon, and her various minions clustered smugly. I had to admit Vaughn looked gorgeous. Her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she was perched on the arm of a chartreuse velvet chair, the skirt of a gray iridescent dress spilling over the side. I instantly wondered where the dress came from and, more importantly, how she paid for it. I tried to smile as we approached her, even though she averted my gaze nervously. Austin steered me straight to her, stopping right in front of her so it was impossible for us to ignore each other.

  “Hey,” Austin said to Vaughn.

  “Hey,” she replied brightly, a fake smile appearing on her lips. I know I was supposed to be genial, but the sight of that smile made me frown. It was a Shrew Crew smile.

  “You remember Anais,” he said, pushing me closer to Vaughn. “You know, your best friend?” Vaughn coughed uncomfortably and nodded. I squeezed Austin’s hand, silently begging him not to leave my side. “Well!” he said sharply. “I better let you two catch up.” He pried my claw from his as discreetly as possible and went to greet the others at the table who, I could see, were sharing bottles of champagne and plates of French fries. I looked to the oriental carpet beneath me, shifting my weight.

  “So,” Vaughn said nervously, taking a sip from her champagne flute and rolling her eyes.

  “So,” I replied.

  This was so weird. I scanned the room. Kate Bosworth and Michael Polish were to our left, clinking glasses, celebrating something or other. At another table, Megan Fox was watching Brian Austin Green eat a steak. “Wow,” I murmured, gesturing to the room. “Don’t stare,” Vaughn seethed. “It’s lame.”

  I frowned, turning to her sharply. “What the hell has happened to you?” I exclaimed. “Are you seriously one of them now?”

  She looked to the ground, crossing her legs. “I don’t know what I am,” she said quietly.

  “Well, that’s obvious,” I snapped.

  I crossed my arms, regarding her, watching her roll her eyes at me. Me! Honestly, now that I was up close, she didn’t look all that great. Underneath that fancy dress and everything else, she just looked lost, which made her look young. She looked like a sad, little girl.

  “Can I just ask you one thing?” I said. Vaughn looked at me carefully, wide-eyed.

  “What did I ever do to you?” I asked.

  She sighed, looking out the enormous French windows to the right, into a European
garden where more stylish people clustered around wrought iron tables and tall heat lamps. For a minute there, I thought she’d never respond. But then she murmured:

  “You remind me of everything I don’t want to be anymore.”

  I took a step back. I couldn’t believe it. Part of me was impressed she admitted it, but another part just wanted to crumble up and die. I stood there, stunned, not knowing what to say or how to react for what felt like a very long time.

  Then I heard a sound. A squeaky, squealy sound. It was horrible. It was Stella, barging into my painful reverie, like a banshee from hell. She pushed past me, giggling wildly, with Austin—my Austin—looking very sheepish in tow. What was going on? What was Stella doing with my boyfriend? Vaughn bit her lip nervously, her ankle jiggling. I narrowed my eyes at her and it suddenly became obvious why she hadn’t messaged me directly. I felt like a fool. She didn’t want me here at all. She wanted Austin here. For Stella. My best friend was trying to facilitate some sort of romance between my boyfriend and Stella Beldon.

  I shuddered, backing away from Vaughn slowly. “You’re a bitch,” I sneered at her. “An evil, evil bitch.”

  She looked wounded for a second before dipping her head to her lap, avoiding me. I fled the room a couple yards behind Austin, who trailed behind Stella lamely. I scampered up the steps, past the bouncer, past reception, and followed them all the way to the mahogany door to the ladies’ room. I sighed, relieved. She’d have to go in without him. Stella slid behind the door while Austin stood outside, befuddled. Her serpentine arm crept from behind the door, grabbing Austin by the collar and tugging him inside. I stopped short. The door clicked shut.

  They were gone, disappeared inside the ladies’ room.

  My heart dropped to my gut. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I steadied myself against the cold, stucco walls, gasping for air. Austin and Stella. Stella and Austin. I closed my eyes.