by Betsy Haynes
"There's going to be a party at my house tonight," the director said around the stub of his cigar. "It's a get-acquainted party for the cast and crew and a few other friends, and Dollins will pick you up at your hotel at six-thirty. You will come, won't you?"
"Of course," Taffy cried before her mother could object. "I can't wait to meet everyone."
Later, as the long limousine pulled through the gates of a large private estate in Beverly Hills, Taffy tingled with anticipation and reminded herself that Raven Blaine wasn't the only one who would be at the party.
She was anxious to meet the other kids in the cast as well. She knew that they would be spending a lot of time together and she hoped they could all be friends.
One thing was nagging at Taffy's brain. She couldn't get over how much the script for Nobody Likes Tiffany Stafford was like her own life in Mark Twain Elementary when Jana Morgan and her friends, the rest of The Fabulous Five, had formed their club and made her life miserable. As she had read over the script, she had felt as if she already knew the characters to be played by the kids she would meet at the party tonight. She would be willing to bet that the three girls ganging up against her in the movie were exact copies of the members of The Fabulous Five, and that Jillian Morris would be a duplicate of Jana Morgan. And now that she thought about it, Raven Blaine's character was a lot like Randy Kirwan, too. Raven was playing Jillian's boyfriend. Both Raven and Randy had dark hair and sparkling eyes and were incredibly handsome, and her character, Tiffany Stafford, had a crush on Raven's character just as she had had a crush on Randy in Mark Twain Elementary.
When the limousine pulled up the circular drive and stopped at the front door of the three-story mansion, a uniformed butler came out and ushered them into the house.
Just inside the door, Mrs. Sinclair pulled Taffy aside and whispered, "Now remember to smile and be polite to everybody. There will be a lot of important people here, and this is a big chance to make a good impression."
She nodded while her mother patted a strand of Taffy's hair into place and brushed away a wrinkle in her blouse.
"Come along, now," her mother ordered. Then she led the way across a marble foyer with a fountain splashing in the center and into an enormous room crowded with people.
On one side of the room, a group of adults talked quietly together, and across from them a dozen or so teenagers were laughing and nibbling on snacks and bobbing around to the distant sound of a rock band. But where was Raven? Taffy wondered when she noticed that he wasn't with the others.
She swallowed hard. Her mother pointed to the teenagers, giving Taffy a tiny push in that direction, and then began making her way toward the adults. Taffy knew she should join the kids, but she was having a sudden attack of stage fright. She couldn't just walk up to them and introduce herself. They might think she was weird.
Just then Jerry Lowenthal stepped out of the crowd and hurried to her. He did not have his cigar this time, and he was grinning broadly. "Taffy! Welcome!" Taking her hand, he led her to the center of the room. "Attention everyone," he boomed. "I want you all to meet the star of our new production, Nobody Likes Tiffany Stafford. This is the beautiful young lady who will play Tiffany Stafford, Miss Taffy Sinclair."
To Taffy's amazement everyone applauded. Even the teenagers were smiling and moving toward her.
"Hi. I'm Paige Kramer," said a stunning red-haired girl. "Did Jerry call you Taffy?"
Taffy nodded. "That's right. Taffy Sinclair. It's nice to meet you, Paige."
"You may not think so for very long," said a boy who looked about seventeen. "Paige is a killer on the set. She upstages everybody and steals scenes like crazy. Besides that, she plays your biggest enemy, Jillian Morris."
Taffy blinked and tried to keep the smile on her face. Could she feel real hostility radiating from Paige, or was it just her imagination?
"Cut it out, KJ," said Paige. Then turning to Taffy, she said, "KJ's the one you have to look out for. He loves to play practical jokes. The last time we worked together, he set off a cherry bomb right in the middle of my big scene. I told him if he ever did that again, I'd kill him."
Paige was smiling, but she was looking at KJ through narrow eyes, and Taffy had the chilling feeling that she wasn't joking.
More kids had gathered around, and Taffy looked hopefully toward two girls who were smiling in her direction.
"Hi, Taffy," one of them said. "I'm Chelsea Oberlin and this is Megan Mills. We're part of the clique that hates Tiffany Stafford in the movie." Chelsea shrugged and laughed as if hating anyone was an absurd idea. "Is this your first film?"
"Yes," Taffy said, relaxing a little. "It's exciting to think of seeing my name in the movie credits."
Before either Chelsea or Megan could respond, Paige moved forward and took over the conversation again.
"Taffy," she muttered, wrinkling her nose. "What kind of name is that? Did you make it up or what?"
Taffy cringed. "No . . ." she stammered. "It's my real name. Honest. My parents . . ."
"Come on, Taffy," said KJ, interrupting Taffy in midsentence. "Let's get something to eat."
Taffy gladly joined him, turning to smile and wave at the others over her shoulder. She shuddered. Everyone was smiling back, including Paige, but there was anger in her eyes. What's her problem? Taffy wondered, but at least for tonight, she didn't want to know the answer.
"So, are you all ready for the big day tomorrow?" KJ asked as he led her through the crowd to the refreshment table.
Taffy's eyes bulged at the sight of the spread. There was everything from shrimp cocktail and caviar to pizza and chips, and waiters were passing through the crowd offering an assortment of beverages.
"I think so," she said, drawing her attention back to KJ after selecting a slice of pepperoni pizza from the table. "I still have to learn my lines, though. I'll probably be up all night doing that. And if you want to know a secret, I'm pretty nervous."
"Hey, don't let it get to you," he said. "You'll be great. Besides, they'll shoot a scene as many times as it takes to get it right."
Just then Taffy looked into the crowd and spotted Raven talking to Jerry Lowenthal. Her heart fluttered as she waited for him to look her way, but instead of turning toward her, he said good-bye to Jerry and disappeared into the maze of people.
Taffy and KJ finished their snacks and then circulated around the room with KJ introducing her to so many people that her head was spinning. He introduced her to important members of the crew such as the AD, who was the first assistant director and in charge of coordinating practically everything, the key grip, who headed the crew that moved around all the equipment, the gaffer, who was the film crew's chief electrician, and the boom operator, who took care of the big microphones on the set.
"Why do they all have such funny-sounding titles?" Taffy whispered to KJ after they finished talking to the gaffer. "Why don't they just call him the electrician?"
KJ looked at her a moment and then shrugged. "You've got me. Tradition, I guess, or maybe they just like the goofy way the names sound. Did you know that the gaffer's assistant is called the best boy? And the guy who runs the camera that moves on tracks is called the dolly grip? Who knows where they come up with these names. It's a wild and crazy business."
They both broke out laughing, but then KJ looked past her and took her arm, steering her in a new direction.
"There's somebody here you'll want to meet," he said mysteriously. "See? Over there, talking to the AD."
Taffy squinted in the direction he was pointing, trying hard to see a familiar face among the crowd of strangers. Suddenly her eyes bulged. "Patrick Swayze?" she whispered. "Is that really him? Or are my eyes playing tricks on me?"
"No tricks, I swear," said KJ, holding up both hands in protest. "He's done two movies for Jerry Lowenthal, so he's always invited to these parties. Do you want to meet him?"
"Of course," she cried, clutching KJ's arm. Her heart was pounding. What would she say to him? Sho
uld she ask for his autograph?
"We'd better be going now, Taffy." Her mother's voice came from over her left shoulder. "You have to study your lines for tomorrow, you know."
Taffy widened her eyes in horror. Not now! she wanted to shout. Not at the very moment when she was about to be introduced to Patrick Swayze! She started to protest, but the look on her mother's face stopped her. Sighing, she tried to hide her disappointment. No one else had left yet. Not only that, she still hadn't gotten a chance to talk to Raven. She had spotted him several times among the other guests, but each time she had looked his way, he hadn't seemed to notice. And besides, she thought angrily, it always seemed that the moment things were going super, her mother always cut them short.
"There'll be lots of other chances to meet Patrick," KJ assured her. "I need to be going pretty soon, too. I have the same early call you do. In fact, we all have," he said, motioning toward Paige and the other teenagers. Then he put a hand over his heart and added dramatically, "I'll see you at dawn's early light."
"Sure, KJ," Taffy answered, smiling again. "Good night."
Taffy and her mother thanked Jerry Lowenthal for the wonderful party and found Dollins for the ride home. So what if she was the first one to leave? she asked herself as she settled into the backseat. She was the luckiest girl in the world. She was going to become a famous movie star instead of being just an ordinary junior high school student. She was going to live the life that most girls only dreamed about, and that included going to parties with famous people like Patrick Swayze. And best of all, in the movie she was about to begin filming, she was going to have Raven Blaine as her costar. And Paige Kramer, a little voice in her head reminded her. Taffy sighed at the thought of Paige. Except for playing the part of my enemy in the movie, what does she have against me already? she wondered.
CHAPTER THREE
When the alarm went off the next morning, Taffy was sure it was the middle of the night. She opened one eye and peered through the pitch blackness at the luminous dial of her clock. Four-thirty. She'd been right. It was the middle of the night. Shutting off the alarm, she propped herself up on an elbow, remembering that she had set it for four-thirty herself. She had a six-o'clock call, which meant she had to be on the set at six this morning, and Dollins was picking her up in an hour.
With a groan, she rolled out of bed. She could hear her mother stirring in the bed next to hers. Why did I want to be a movie star? she thought as she flipped on the blinding light in the bathroom and groped for her toothbrush. It had all seemed so glamorous at the party last night, but now, at four-thirty in the morning, she was having second thoughts.
An hour later, after stumbling around the hotel room in a sleepy fog and bumping into her mother twice, Taffy was dressed and ready, and they went down to the lobby. Dollins was there, looking as alert and impeccable as he had the day before.
"I'm hungry. Can we get something to eat?" Taffy asked.
"I'm afraid the coffee shop isn't open yet," said Dollins, "but there are donuts and milk in the limousine."
Taffy smiled. I should have known, she thought, feeling like a star again. But as they drove to the studio, she remembered with a stab of guilt that she had turned off her light last night without even starting a letter to Cory or Shawnie. She had promised both of them that she would write immediately, and she had really wanted to tell them about everything that had happened so far. The plane ride, Dollins and the wonderful limousine with its refrigerator and snack compartment, the movie set with her own trailer that had a star and her name on the door, the party last night, and of course, Raven.
Taffy took a bite of her chocolate donut and looked out the car window at the darkness. A moment later they rolled up to the studio gate. She was amazed to see that the guard was on duty even though the sun wasn't up yet. But as they proceeded on through the gate, she saw lights everywhere and realized that she was far from the first person to arrive for work. Trucks loaded with camera equipment rolled through the streets, and people bustled back and forth as if it were high noon.
When the limousine arrived at the area of the studio back lot where Nobody Likes Tiffany Stafford was going to be filmed, Taffy saw that she wasn't the first to arrive there either. The camera crew was already busy setting up equipment for an exterior shot of the school where part of the story would be filmed. Taffy looked nervously at the set. She would do the first movie scene of her life on those front steps in just a few hours. Did she know her lines? She had practiced them over and over with her mother last night and had fallen into bed thinking she would surely dream them as well. But now, looking at the set where she would actually say them for the camera, she wasn't so sure, and little fingers of fear played up and down her spine.
Dollins dropped them off at Taffy's trailer, promising to come back for them at the end of the day, and then drove away. Taffy wondered briefly what Dollins did all day as she danced up the steps to her trailer, but she forgot about him instantly when she stepped inside and saw three gorgeous but identical outfits hanging on the back of her closet door.
"Look, Mom! They're beautiful," she cried, pulling down one of the hangers holding a lavender-and-white plaid skirt and layered sweaters in contrasting shades of lavender. "But why are there three of them?"
Just then the assistant director stuck his head in the door. "In case you spill something on one of them," he said with a laugh. "And even in case you spill something on two of them. After that, you're out of luck. Go ahead and get changed and then head on over to the makeup trailer. You're first up this morning for the beauty treatment."
When the door closed and the AD was gone, Taffy ducked into the tiny bathroom and changed into one of the lavender outfits. Then she darted out of her own trailer and headed for the makeup trailer, calling back to her mother that she could find it on her own.
She had just bounded up the high step to the makeup trailer and grabbed the doorknob when she heard a voice behind her.
"How about a hand up?"
Turning, Taffy saw the most adorable little girl she had ever seen smiling up at her. She looked about seven or eight years old, and Taffy could see right away that she would have trouble climbing up the steep trailer steps by herself.
"Sure," Taffy said, reaching down and offering a hand. "Where's your mommy?"
"Asleep in my trailer," she said, and Taffy thought her voice sounded surprisingly mature for a seven- or eight-year-old. Then the little girl brightened and added, "My name's Tessica Taylor, but everybody calls me Tess. You must be Taffy Sinclair, or should I say, dreadful Tiffany Stafford."
"Right," said Taffy. "And you must play Jillian's little sister, Kara."
Tess nodded and hoisted herself up onto the step beside Taffy. "I saw you at Jerry's party last night, but I didn't get a chance to talk to you."
"You were at the party?" Taffy asked in surprise. "Wasn't that way past your bedtime?"
"Humpf," snorted Tess, giving Taffy a disgusted look. "Come on, let's go in and get beautiful."
The two girls were met by a pair of makeup artists, who put them into chairs and began working on their faces.
"Hi, Taffy. I'm Marie. I'm just going to highlight your features. Nothing heavy," she said, and began applying a light eyeliner and a little blush.
Next she was sent to the hair stylist's chair, where a handsome young man named Tony brushed her long blond hair. Tess, who was having her hair set with hot rollers, waved when Taffy left the trailer.
Taffy strolled along, heading for her own trailer, wondering if Raven had arrived on the set yet. He was in this morning's scene, but so far she hadn't seen him anywhere. Maybe he was in makeup right now or talking to the wardrobe mistress. She sighed, remembering how he hadn't even spoken to her at Jerry's party last night. Was there something wrong? Was he avoiding her? But why? she wondered stubbornly. What could she have possibly done to make him angry at her?
She was practicing her lines with her mother a little while later when someone knock
ed on the trailer door and called, "Fifteen minutes, Miss Sinclair."
Her mother's eyes flared. "That's us!" she cried.
Taffy could only nod. It was time. The moment she had been waiting for and dreading all at the same time. Her heart started hammering, and she looked down at the pages of the script, trying to remember what they said. Her mind was blank. She couldn't remember a single word of the speeches for the scene.
"I can't do it," she whispered to herself. "I can't go out there and make a fool of myself. I'll tell them I'm sick or that I have laryngitis."
"Come on, Taffy. Let's get going," her mother urged, opening the door and motioning for Taffy to follow her.
Taffy started to protest, but just then she noticed Raven walking past the trailer. He was dressed in jeans and a bright blue crewneck sweater, and he was glancing around as if he were looking for someone.
Taffy's heart skipped a beat. Was he looking for her? Maybe he wanted to walk to the set with her. She sighed at the instant vision of the two of them arriving at the set together, arms linked and smiling at each other. Forgetting her laryngitis and all her fears, she looked around for her script pages. She had to hurry.
But when she turned to the door again, he was gone.
"Raven?" she called as she stepped out of the trailer. Still, no one was there but her mother. "Did you see Raven Blaine out here?" she asked.
Her mother nodded and shrugged. "He was walking by a moment ago," she said, looking puzzled.
Taffy's heart dropped with a thud. Apparently he hadn't been looking for her after all.
CHAPTER FOUR
"Good morning, Miss Sinclair."
Taffy jumped, startled at the formal greeting. She had been walking along, practicing her lines under her breath and looking nervously toward the set where the grips were moving the equipment around and the gaffers were setting up the lights.