by Zoey Dean
The party had moved from the house to the beach. The girls lounged on cushy orange sun
chairs, lined up in order of ascension: Myla, then Jojo, Talia, Billie, and Fortune and a halfdozen others. Jojo was reaping the rewards from the Three Little Stalkers' behavior: Usually
Talia got to sit next to Myla. But Myla had patted the chair next to hers and told Jojo to sit.
Now Myla's friends were giving Jojo the cold shoulder, trying to pretend they weren't
interested in everything Myla said to her. Out in the waves, the boys were acting the parts of
laid-back alpha males, trying to outsurf one another. Music still poured from Tucker's deck to
the beach, and the bikini-clad waitresses made their way back and forth bearing fresh fruity
drinks. Down the beach, noise from another shindig wafted out to the shore. The BHH girls
kept checking in that direction for revelers to stray from the other party and emerge on the sand.
Rumor had it a Young Hollywood party was being held at the Polaroid House, which had been
built expressly to entertain celebrities and had its own gifting room where swag was handed
out. Some of the Class Angel stars were supposedly there.
"I swear that's Grant," Billie said, as she not-quite-stealthily put her rhinestoned binoculars up
to her face. She bit her lip in concentration as she focused the lenses.
"Give me those," Fortune scolded, yanking the binoculars from Billie's hand. Peering through
the lenses, she shook her head. "That's not him. It's just Robert Pattinson."
Jojo and Myla exchanged a look of disdain. The idea of Grant Isaacson shirtless had pulled
every girl to the beach. They'd all posed, somewhat pathetically, displaying their assets in hopes
of catching Grant's eye.
"Oh, I see someone coming," Fortune squealed, before sighing in disappointment. "Oh, it's
Kady Parker. And Jake."
Jojo turned and saw Kady and Jake approaching, Jake's arm around her. He looked cute in his
long trunks and a pair of aviators. A tinge of regret coasted over her body. She'd helped Jake
get to the costar-dating point, after all. And now he didn't even notice her.
Myla poked Jojo in the arm. "Check out your man," she commanded. As Jojo watched Tucker
through her Versace lens, she saw why Myla had picked him for her. He'd never cure cancer,
but damn if the boy couldn't surf. He was better than every guy out there, even Ash.
Tucker wore just his Hawaiian board shorts, even though the water was freezing--after
September, you had to be crazy to go in without a wet suit--his sculpted chest and abs bare and
tan. He looked like a bronze god as he rode his board.
"I wish Grant surfed," Olivia said, practically shouting from her chair at the end of the line, as
she rubbed Clinique sunblock onto her cheeks. "Tucker is so good, Jojo," she noted, as if Jojo
were responsible.
Jojo raised her eyebrows beneath her shades. After two hours, she was getting complimented
on Tucker's skills? They'd been pretty much strangers as of this morning, but with approval
from Myla, they were now a bona fide couple already. Does it even matter what I want? Jojo
suddenly wondered, thinking of Jake walking hand in hand with Kady.
Tucker rode his wave in to the shore, hefting his board under one arm and striding across the
sand. He made a beeline for Jojo, ignoring the scantily clad females surrounding her. His lips
cocked in a satisfied grin.
"You were watching me," he said mischievously.
Jojo felt her face grow hot. She thought she was supposed to watch him. And he was awfully
nice to look at. Myla wouldn't be embarrassed in this situation, she reminded herself.
"You were watching me too," she said, her voice composed.
"How could I not?" He knelt in the sand near her chair, his cold forearm brushing Jojo's thigh.
She felt the slightest of tingles activate in a wave over her body. He leaned forward, and put his
lips softly against her face, just next to her lips. Another tingle. She turned her head ever so
slightly, and their lips met--hers warm and dry, his cool and salty--and he kissed her. It was a
solid kiss--passionate, with gradually increasing force, almost like he'd practiced. Jojo couldn't
deny that he had skills. And maybe once they got to know each other better, there'd be more
behind their kisses than a mutual physical attraction.
As he broke away, Tucker squeezed Jojo's arm. "I'll see you later, okay?"
"If you're lucky," Jojo teased him with the half-smile again. Over Tucker's shoulder, Jojo
glanced at Myla. Her sister nodded approvingly, even though she never took her eyes off Ash
out in the surf.
Jojo reached out and clasped Myla's arm. "You should talk to him," she whispered, so none of
the other girls could hear.
Myla grinned appreciatively, shadows falling on her face beneath her wide-brimmed sunhat.
"You're right."
Myla hated the idea of trailing Ash as he left the water and headed up to the house, but Jojo
was right. She stayed twenty paces behind him, having excused herself to visit the powder
room.
She clipped through the glass doors, to find the big party room empty, save for Ash, checking
his texts.
"You're getting better at your cutbacks," Myla said, quietly sinking into the custom couch that
was big enough to seat ten comfortably.
Ash looked up from the phone and grinned. "Thanks, but not really. I sort of reversed direction
on that one wave by total accident. But I'll take the compliment." Little specks of sand dotted
his face just above his eyebrow. Out of habit, Myla reached up and brushed them away.
"Sorry," she said, drawing her hand away and rubbing a grain of sand between two fingers. "It
just looked itchy."
"It just looked itchy"? Who tries to have an intimate moment with their ex and uses the word
itchy ? Myla thought. She was nervous. She wanted to ask Ash if he'd kissed anyone yet, but
she was almost scared to know the answer. It would probably hurt, and she'd probably be
jealous. But as crazy as her suggestion that he kiss someone else sounded, the only thing
crazier was their not being together. And if the only way Ash would know her kiss with Lewis
meant nothing was for him to have a meaningless kiss of his own, then so be it. The pain
would be worth it. Right?
"It's okay, My," Ash said, his gentle eyes seeming to ask why she'd followed him in here.
"So," Myla started, taking off her giant hat so he could see her eyes. "Have you... you know...
yet?"
Ash pushed a wet strand of hair, falling adorably in front of his eyes, out of his face. "What's
'you know'?" He grinned, half-amused. Myla cursed herself for being so uncharacteristically
fidgety.
"Kissed anyone," she said, looking at her hands. She couldn't look him in the eye.
Ash sighed, sinking backward into the cushions. "Seriously, this is ridiculous," he said. "Who
am I going to kiss, anyway? I'm not gonna make out with some BHH girl that I have to see
every day."
Myla winced at the idea of Ash kissing Fortune, or Billie, and suddenly she understood how
hard this was for him. But she needed him to understand that all kisses weren't created equal.
She wished he'd stop being so stubborn and get this over with. "Then pick a different girl," she
said, as an idea formed in her head. "Kiss Crazy Daisy. It's perfect. You might even get that nut
job out of your life if she gets mad and your dad finds out."
Ash said nothing, just hefted himself off the couch and sauntered back toward the door.
He looked back at her, chuckling lightly but with affection. "You know, you're a little bit of a
nut job too, My. It's why I fell for you in the first place."
He opened the door, the whoosh of the waves flowing inside. He headed back in the direction
of the beach, pulling up his wet suit as he went.
Myla felt her neck for the gold chain she used to wear Ash's ring on. It wasn't there, she
remembered, as her fingers kneaded against her collarbone.
But maybe she'd be wearing it again soon.
MACHIAVELLI WITH A MACCHIATO
"Oh my God," Kady squealed, running at Jake and jumping into his arms. "You look so hot!"
Amelie rolled her eyes as Kady wrapped her thighs around Jake's waist, her green leggings
wrinkling his Hugo Boss suit. Jake glanced at Amelie, smiling in a semi-embarrassed yet
proud way, as if to say, Sorry for our public displays of affection. But not really. Then he
turned away, kissing Kady deeply as she twirled one of his curls around her finger. To Amelie,
the towering Jake and petite Kady resembled a giraffe with a garden gnome attached.
She pressed her lips closed and paged through her copy of Elle, the ink thoroughly smudged
from multiple trips through the magazine. It wasn't even that great an issue. But it gave her
somewhere else to look. The weekend had passed, and Kake was still going strong.
"Hey, so why weren't you at the Polaroid House thing this weekend?" Jake asked, sliding on
the new pair of aviators Kady had given him at the party Saturday. Amelie didn't get why Jake
was so eager to adapt to every trend Kady told him was cool. The glasses made him look like
the dime-a-dozen wannabe actors who worked as personal trainers and office assistants at
every cheap-rent locale from North Hollywood to Atwater Village. At least he was talking to
her, though.
"I was busy," Amelie said, careful to smile only at Jake and not at Kady. "Had an in-store at
Barnes & Noble in San Diego for the new Fairy Princess book."
"Oh, that sucks," Jake said. She couldn't tell if he was looking at her through his reflective
lenses. "Wish you'd been there."
Kady looked at Amelie like she was a puppy who had just peed the carpet. Almost cute, even
when she disappointed you. "Amelie's always working, Jake," Kady said. "She's a machine.
All work and no play. Maybe we should find you a boyfriend, Am," she said playfully. With
that, she snaked her arms tighter around Jake's chest and rested her tiny face on his arm.
Amelie wanted to roll up her magazine and swat Kady away like a fly. Why the need to make
Amelie sound like the lamest person on earth? "Well, that was just on Saturday," she said.
"Sunday, I hung out with some friends." She was lying, since the only friends she'd spent time
with Sunday were Ben and Jerry.
Kady raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Who?" Her dark eyes twinkled mischievously as if she
saw right through Amelie. Amelie ripped the page she'd been staring at. An article about why
workplace romances fail. Because you chose the wrong costar was not among the reasons.
"Just some people," she said breezily. Suddenly she felt irrationally angry at Hunter for making
her leave Jake and Kady alone together in the first place. "Nobody you know." With that, she
jumped out of her canvas chair and walked away. She didn't have any more scenes today
anyway. Kady and Jake had to film their last scene together--the two of them finally a couple at
a big school dance, after Class Angel cleared Lizzie's name, helped her get into art school, and
won her the Big Man on Campus. After their PG-rated kiss, the movie would cut to Amelie in
her heavenly wonderland, beaming with pride at receiving a promotion from apprentice angel to
associate.
Why had she let Jake slip through her fingers? She stomped toward her trailer as much as a
pair of Ugg boots allowed a person to stomp. She was supposed to be waiting for Gary to
return from a meeting with the producers. But they could call her.
She stopped at the craft service table for a macchiato, Kady and Jake still making out in the
corner of her eye. A few feet away, Grant sat on the edge of the auditorium stage, his legion of
followers now reduced to the three most devoted: Billie, Talia, and Fortune.
The three girls waved, but Amelie pretended not to notice. Much as she would have liked to get
the girls' perspective on her situation, they were clearly occupied with Grant. Besides, hanging
out with them seemed almost pointless now that she knew she wouldn't be attending BHH. She
was headed for a destiny as an abject, loveless loser, surrounded by cats who listened to tales
of her glory days as Fairy Princess. Why rub it in by spending time with girls who would
never really be her friends?
"Grant, we were thinking. It's unfair Lizzie ends up with someone," Fortune said, twirling a
strand of hair in a way that looked painful. "And you don't. What if they rewrote the last scene
so that you get asked to dance by a girl? Or even, like, three?"
Talia and Billie nodded vigorously behind Fortune. "It would be soooo perfect," Talia said,
leaning onto the stage in a way that afforded Grant a view of her La Perla bra.
"I took ballroom dance with Fred Astaire's grand-nephew," Billie bragged.
Grant looked past the trio, at Amelie, his eyes practically flashing, Help! Amelie smirked as if
to say, What can I do?
Grant put on his most charming smile. "Ladies, ladies," he said, shrugging apologetically. "It's
probably too late for a rewrite."
As she made her way to the auditorium doors, a thought occurred to Amelie. In this business, it
was never too late for a rewrite.
Amelie knocked on the door to the production trailer, where Gary was having his meeting. She
was glad to be wearing jeans, a beige V-neck, and her Uggs rather than an angel costume that
made her look like a couture-clad dessert.
A young studio executive swung open the trailer door, his smile displaying a set of oftwhitened teeth. He wore the guy equivalent of Amelie's outfit: blue Pumas, worn-in True
Religion jeans, and a vintage Philadelphia Phillies tee. Amelie recognized him immediately as
Sanjay Bhatt, a VP for Transnational's teen entertainment division.
"Amelie, hello," he said easily, welcoming her in. He gestured for her to sit in a chair across
from Gary and Devin Phillips, Class Angel's executive producer.
Gary squinted at her oddly. "What's going on, Amelie?" He was dressed up, for Gary. No hat,
a button-down shirt that was ironed and tucked, and khakis.
"Sorry for interrupting, but I had this idea over the weekend and wanted to run it by you,"
Amelie said, pushing a wayward curl from her eyes as the men regarded her with interest. "It's
about the ending. Another direction on this movie might really set Transnational apart."
Sanjay looked enthused. He leaned forward, his chin on the steeple of his hands. "I'm
intrigued," he said, casting a glance at Gary and Devin. "Go on."
Amelie cleared her throat, projecting a businesslike voice that echoed her mother's. "It seemed
to me it would be interesting, and surprising, if--in the last scene--Class Angel reveals herself
to Tommy. She explains to him that she's been pulling the strings, tha
t she's in love with him
and that she can stay on earth as a normal girl if he'd just kiss her. Tommy would be entranced
and they'd kiss. Then in flashback we see that all along Angel was really pushing Lizzie toward
Knox. And by giving Angel a reason to stay on earth, we have franchise potential: Angel,
recently turned human, tries to navigate high school." She shrugged nonchalantly, as if it was a
random thought and not the event on which her happiness hinged. If she could just kiss Jake,
just once, she knew he'd feel what she felt. She needed this kiss to show him being with Kady
was all wrong. Jake was a cuddle-on-the-couch-watching-movies kind of guy, not a find-adark-corner-in-a-nightclub kind of guy. And he definitely wasn't a couple-nickname kind of
boyfriend. Kake was ridiculous. Jake needed to see that, and not waste time on Kady the way
Amelie had on Hunter.
"It would involve just a quick rewrite of the final few pages, maybe an endcap of Lizzie getting
together with Knox, so the audience sees how perfect they are for each other. Right now, it just
seems a little... pat," Amelie invented, knowing that executives hated to hear the word pat about
their films, even when it was true.
Sanjay's eyebrows raised, and Devin and Gary exchanged a look.
Devin smoothed the lapels of his bespoke suit. He was the best dressed of the three, which in
this town meant he was the least confident about how he did his job. "And what prompted this
idea?"
Amelie instantly thought of a story she'd scanned in the Hollywood Reporter that morning.
" Frothed Up, the teen comedy set in the magical coffee shop? It only made seven million and
opened fifth this weekend, even though the producers thought Selena Gomez and Nick Jonas
would put it at least second with twenty million," she quoted almost verbatim from the article.
"Audiences said they could see the ending coming ten seconds into the trailer. I mean, of
course Selena and Nick wind up together. We've fought predictability with Class Angel, casting
Jake as Tommy Archer and bringing on Grant. Think of the buzz we'd get if we take the
audience somewhere they're not expecting."
Devin sighed, holding his graying head in his hands. "What are we doing here?" he finally
muttered.
Amelie's heart thudded in her chest. She suddenly realized what she was doing: She was a