The elevator ride from the twenty-fifth floor to the lobby gave Claire enough time to hate her hair, detest her bloody cuticles, and abhor the dusting of hair on her thighs. What had made her think she could star in a movie? Having the lead in a few school plays back in Florida hardly qualified her as an actress. Massie and Alicia had even less experience, but they were Massie and Alicia. What else did they need?
Claire slid her fingers into the back pocket of her tight cutoffs and wrapped her hand around the miniature Aveda beauty bar. Then, as if wiping away a loose booger, she brushed the soap past her nostril and inhaled deeply. The combination of mint and flowers instantly calmed her nerves.
When the elevator doors opened, Massie lifted her chin and stepped into the bustling lobby.
“Oh, they look so glamorous, don’t they, Kendra?” shrieked Judi.
Everyone turned to see who she was talking about.
“Puh-lease tell your mother to chill.” Massie practically spat the words.
“Girls, go stand by that fountain so I can take a picture.” Judi lifted a disposable camera out of a plastic Le Baccarat bag, normally used for trash, and waved it around. “Your grandparents will be so excited to see—”
“Look, that must be Emma.” Massie grabbed Claire and Alicia and dragged them toward the dimly lit lounge.
Claire glanced back at her mother and flashed an I’d-love-to-stay-but-I’m-being-taken-against-my-will look, hoping it would explain the lost photo op.
Emma was in an oversize wing chair, talking on her cell. Just as she’d said she would be, she was dressed in a white linen pantsuit. “Royt, then, sounds good,” her voice boomed in a thick British accent. “The girls ah he-ah. Gohdda jump.” She dropped the phone into her blazer pocket.
Even though she was from England, Emma reminded Claire of the students at University of Central Florida. She had straight blond hair and wispy bangs. Her hazel eyes were lined with blue kohl and her lipstick was pink. Her B-cups weren’t enhanced, her nose had a small bump, and her handbag didn’t resemble luggage. Claire liked her immediately.
“Sorry ’bout that.” She sighed. “The press has been up me bum all moh-ning. The-hh desperate to find out who will be replacing Hadley.”
“Aren’t we all.” Alicia clutched her stomach.
Claire nodded.
“Look no further.” Massie curtsied.
Emma threw her head back and laughed.
Alicia rolled her eyes.
Claire sighed, letting Alicia know that Massie’s blatant campaigning annoyed her too.
“Emma, I’d like you to meet my manager.” Massie waved her mother over. Judi followed.
“Pleasure to meet you.” Kendra offered her right hand. A landslide of diamond tennis bracelets fell toward her bony wrist.
“And this is my mom.” Claire pulled Judi into the circle.
“We are so excited to be here. Thanks for having us,” Judi gushed, as if Emma had invited them to stay in her house and offered up her bed.
“So, are we ready?” Massie interrupted. “We don’t want to keep Rupert waiting.”
“I like that.” Emma smiled. “A true professional.”
“I try.”
Claire wondered if she should bother auditioning. If she left now, she could be back under her covers IM’ing Cam before dinner.
“So, what do the chaperones do while the girls are auditioning?” Kendra slid her oversize Chanel sunglasses over her eyes.
“Ru-puhht would prefeh it if you stayed back heh. You know, so the guhls can really focus.”
Claire felt a pinch of guilt because her mom had been excited to see Gelding Studios. But mostly she was relieved. When it came to getting crushed by Massie Block and Alicia Rivera, the fewer witnesses, the better.
“Hmmm.” Kendra turned to Judi. “Have you ever been to Rodeo Drive?”
Judi adjusted her yellow visor. “No.”
“You’ll love it. It’s like Fifth Avenue without the fur.” Kendra winked at Massie.
“Ready, then?” Emma signaled her driver, who pulled up to the curb in a white Escalade.
“Ready,” they all said at once.
“Apple-C!”
“Good luck, girls!” Kendra and Judi doled out a round of hugs, then stepped into a taxi by the valet stand. They blew air kisses out the window as they pulled onto Santa Monica Boulevard.
The girls spread out in the back of the spacious Escalade, and Emma sat up front with the driver, making phone calls.
Massie searched the satellite radio for a good pop station, while Alicia and Claire scoured the fridge. “Look at all this.” Alicia snapped pictures of the soda, cookies, and minisandwiches with her Motorola Pebl, then emailed them to Dylan and Kristen.
“What are these?” Claire wiggled a bright red piece of licorice in Alicia’s face, then took a bite.
Massie cranked up a dance-remix version of Christina Aguilera’s old song “Beautiful.”
“They’re called Red Vines,” Alicia shouted over the speedy electronica. “They’re like the California version of Twizzlers.”
“Much chewier, stickier, and more cherryish.” Claire held out the plastic bag. “Want one?”
Alicia turned away in disgust.
“I am beautiful, no matter what they say,” Massie bellowed as she rolled down the windows. A rush of sun-kissed air blew through the SUV. For the first time in months, Claire felt warm.
Iambeautifulnomatterwhattheysay
Wordswon’tbringmedown.…
They sang as fast as they could, laughing as they tried to keep up with the accelerated pace of the remix.
Claire held her mouth open, trying to swallow as much of Los Angeles as she could. The blue ocean was on her left, and straight ahead a ridge of jagged mountains kissed the horizon. Claire thought of Orlando when they passed a row of tall palm trees and thought of Cam when they passed everything else. She reached into her back pocket, pulled out a yellow gummy worm, and gently placed it on her tongue.
Massie jumped to lower the radio and answered her barking phone. “Hey, Kristen. What’s up? I’m putting you on speaker, ’kay?”
A chorus of sobs and sniffles filled the Escalade.
“Is Dylan there too?” Massie asked.
“Yessss,” Dylan bawled.
“Why are you guys crying?” asked Claire. “Did something happen with the board? Do I have to go to ADD? Please don’t say I have to go to ADD.”
“We don’t.” Kristen sniffed.
“Then what is it?” Massie was annoyed.
“Why did Alicia send us those pictures?” Dylan blew her nose.
“I wanted you to see all of the food they have for us.” Alicia grinned. “Isn’t it great?”
“Were you trying to make us feel like LBRs?” Kristen snapped.
“Puh-lease.” Alicia leaned closer to the phone. “I sent them so you could feel like you were here.”
Kristen blew her nose.
“Do you miss us?” Dylan asked.
“Given.” Alicia rolled her eyes.
“Do you think they’ve spoken to the boys yet?” Claire whispered.
“What?” Kristen barked. “Why are you whispering?”
“Sorry.” Claire tugged on her short bangs. “I just wanted to know if you spoke to Cam yet.”
“Or Josh?”
Claire glanced at Massie, expecting her to ask about Derrington, but she didn’t. How did she have the willpower to act like she didn’t care about him? Sometimes Claire wished she could act cool and aloof like Massie, even though it didn’t seem like much fun.
“We’ll see them tonight.” Kristen perked up. “We’re gonna dress up in hats and glasses and sneak into their soccer practice.”
“Tell Cam I’ve been trying to call him but the time difference keeps messing things up.” Claire’s throat tightened when she said his name. She reached for a gummy worm but opted for the soap instead.
“I can’t believe one of you will be in Dial L for Lo
ser,” Dylan whined. “It’s so not fair.”
“Weh hea,” Emma announced while she waited for the driver to open her door.
“Ehmagawd,” Massie gasped. “Gotta jump.” She snapped her Razr shut.
“Who’s ready to be a star?” Emma asked with a wink and a nod.
“Me!” Claire shouted.
But Massie and Alicia shouted louder and drowned her out.
LOS ANGELES
GELDING STUDIOS
Monday, March 16th
12:30 P.M.
The tall gates that separated Gelding Studios from the rest of the world parted as the Escalade rolled on in to what Entertainment Weekly coined “a billion-dollar playground for movie maniacs.” Claire moaned.
“I should have shaved!” She stroked her shin. “It looks like I’m wearing yellow fleece tights.”
“You could always audition for Big Bird’s standin,” Massie offered while finger-combing her extensions.
“Point.” Alicia rubbed a dot of rosy tint on each of her cheeks.
Claire crossed her legs and turned toward the window.
A row of palm trees lined the center of Easy Street, the main roadway that led to different soundstages and sets on the lot. And gigantic movie posters of the studio’s block-busters towered above them like Manhattan skyscrapers.
Emma tapped on her window. “On the right, heh, you’ll see Horr-ah Road. All the scary movies ah shot theh. The house from Blood Bahth is a little ways in, and behind it is the black pond from Snake Lake.”
Claire stuck her camera out the window and took a picture of the narrow wooden house that was surrounded by tombstones and fallen branches. It looked just like the poster in Cam’s bedroom, minus the blood gushing from the windows.
“I slept in my parents’ bed for a week after I saw that movie.”
Massie and Alicia giggled.
“Same,” Emma joked.
A golf cart filled with three astronauts zoomed past them and turned down Milky Way.
Massie gasped. “Ehmagawd, were those—”
“Yup.” Emma nodded. “Those were the stahs of T-Minus 3. They built a huge moon set and, get this, a zero-gravity chamber.” She faced them and lowered her voice. “I heard two of the stahs, Jayne Sauceland and Perry Most, were caught naked in theh last Friday night. The machine was tuhned up too high and instead of floating they weh plast-ehd to the wall and their bottoms were mashed up against the windows.”
The girls burst out laughing.
The Escalade made a left down a nameless street that had a quaint sign that said WELCOME TO LAKEVIEW sticking out of a manicured hill.
“Here we ah,” Emma announced.
Suddenly, as if transported by time machine, they were coasting down a winding neighborhood road. Each house had a landscaped front yard and a driveway with a basketball hoop, a hockey net, or a minivan blocking the garage. It could have easily passed for a normal suburban community if it weren’t for the cranes and lights above every home.
“This is the make-believe town where Dial L is set.” Emma unplugged her phone from the car charger and dropped in it her blazer pocket. “It’s called Lakeview.”
The Escalade turned into a crowded parking lot loaded with golf carts, utility trucks, snack-mobiles, and three long trailers. Straight ahead was a low, windowless football-field-size monstrosity of a building.
“This is Lakeview Middle School,” Emma announced.
The driver turned off the car.
“Ew!” Alicia squealed. “This is even worse than ADD.”
Claire’s stomach clenched.
“The set is inside.” Emma smiled as though she had built it herself. “It’s really quite lovely.”
Pick up your phone.… Pick up your phone.…
Claire pulled her Nokia out of her orange Kipling Fresh clutch. Her hands shook as she checked the display.
“Oh, hey, Layne.” She groaned, unable to hide the fact that she had been hoping for Cam.
“Did you audition yet?”
“Soon.”
“Break a leg!” shouted a bunch of people.
“Thanks.” Claire smiled. “Who’s there?”
“Everyone!” Layne sounded pleased. Claire could picture her narrow green eyes twinkling with delight. Her hair was probably scraggly and tangled. And her outfit was most likely a blinding combination of polyester prints and plaid man-pants. Not that it mattered. Layne Abeley was so much more than the sum of her outfits. She was a true friend, someone who loved to see her BFFs succeed, not fail.
“Who’s everyone?”
“Me, Meena, and Heather.”
Claire giggled. “Thanks, guys.”
Massie and Alicia leaned against the Escalade, their eyes closed and their faces tilted toward the warm sun.
“Now remember one thing when you’re auditioning.” Layne sounded serious. “Don’t think about the character, become the character.”
“Got it.” Claire closed her eyes, sealing the advice in her brain. “Thanks, Layne.”
“Ew!” Alicia opened her eyes and pushed her wraparound Ralph Lauren tortoiseshell sunglasses over her nose. “That’s Layne?”
“We thought you were talking to Cam.” Massie lowered her aviators from the top of her head. “Emma, we can leave.”
“Very well.” She began making her way across the parking lot toward the entrance.
“I better go,” Claire said to Layne.
“Break a leg!” shouted the chorus.
“And call when you’re done,” Layne insisted.
“I will.” Claire hung up the phone, then scurried to catch up to the others.
“Yoh audition is in an hour.” Emma wrapped her hand around the door handle. “Use the time to familiarize yourselves with the script.”
“Exactly what I was thinking.” Massie twirled her charm bracelet.
Script? Claire was overcome by intense thirst. It felt like the inside of her mouth had been blasted with Massie’s fifteen-hundred-watt hair dryer. In fifty-nine minutes they’d be standing in front of Rupert Mann auditioning for his movie. And she couldn’t have felt less prepared.
“Um, can I ask a question?” Claire raised her hand tentatively.
Emma nodded.
“I was wondering if you could tell us about the character. You know, that we’ll be reading for.”
“Bloody ’ell.” Emma’s face flushed. “Did I not tell you?”
Claire shook her head.
“I’m glad one of us is thinking today.”
“It’s funny.” Massie covered her heart with her hand. “I was about to ask the same thing.”
“Me too.” Alicia nodded.
“You’ll be auditioning for Moh-lly Reynolds. An aww-kward but cunning thirteen-year-old los-ah who hires someone to teach her how to be popular.” Emma put her hand on her heart. “That’s wheh yoh acting skills will come in. Because something tells me you three have no idear what it’s like to be Moh-lly.”
Massie and Alicia snickered.
Emma yanked the door open. “Welcome to Lakeview Middle School,” she gushed. “Cool, roi-ght?”
The girls were standing in the middle of a hallway lined with green lockers and glass cases filled with photos and trophies. Hand-painted signs reminding students about the upcoming dance hung from the ceiling, and Xeroxed flyers backing Marc Cooper for class president were scattered across the floor. It even had the same pencil-eraser-meets-tuna-sandwich smell that real schools have. Claire took out her camera and snapped a few shots for Cam while Emma got their VIP passes.
“Follow me.” She handed them each a white-and-gold Gelding Studios sticker with their names on it, perfect to hang on their bedroom doors back home.
They followed Emma down the hall into one of the classrooms. But when they stepped inside, they were no longer at Lakeview Middle School. They were back in Hollywood, surrounded by lights, cameras, and coils of thick black wire.
“This way.” Emma led them into a small pantry. A fre
sh pot of coffee was brewing and a full box of doughnuts had been left beside it. “Help yoh-selves. I’ll be right back with the scripts.”
Claire went straight for the watercooler.
“Ehmagawd,” Massie whisper-screeched. “Look!”
“Ehmagawd,” Alicia echoed.
Claire almost spit up Poland Spring.
Right outside the pantry, with an unlit cigarette dangling from his fifteen-year-old lips, was the teen dream and renowned Hugo Boss underwear model, Conner Foley, typing a text message into his Sidekick. He had black spiked hair, olive-green eyes, and the tiniest hint of stubble on his face. He was just as good-looking in person as he was on the billboards in Times Square.
The hair-dryer thirst returned and Claire lifted the cup of water to her lips.
“Hey, Conner! Over here!” Massie shouted; then she and Alicia ducked behind the door. Conner turned and locked eyes with Claire. The water went down the wrong pipe and Claire started choking.
The actor yanked the unlit cigarette from his mouth, threw it on the studio floor, and crushed it with the heel of his black motorcycle boot.
“Conner’s coming!” He rushed inside the pantry and began slapping Claire on the back. She wanted to tell him to stop but her mouth was full. The next slap did the trick. A stream of warm water shot out and soaked Claire’s pink T-shirt.
Massie and Alicia cackled like witches.
Conner lifted his leather jacket and dabbed Claire’s cheeks. The Mercedes key chain that hung from a belt loop on his customized CF jeans swayed.
Claire wanted to push him away from her and run back to the Escalade. Once he told Rupert what an unglamorous dork she was, Claire would have no shot at the role.
“Are those tears, babygirl?”
“No,” she lied. “It’s from the coughing.”
He dabbed some more. “Poor thing.”
Conner’s face was so perfect, it hurt to look straight at it. Claire had to lower her eyes, as if staring into direct sunlight.
“Ehmagawd, are you okay, sweetie?” Massie put her arm around Claire.
“C’mere, you.” Alicia held out her arms.
Dial L for Loser Page 9