by Betsy Haynes
When Dollins pulled the limousine up beside the mall, Taffy saw to her surprise that one of the second ADs was waiting to escort her to the set. Taffy guessed that Julie was in her early twenties. She had long blond hair and the sort of California look that made Taffy wonder why she worked behind the cameras instead of in front of them. But mainly she was nice, and Taffy liked her a lot.
Julie led her through wide glass doors into the mall. Taffy looked around in amazement. Three stories high, the mall was unlike any other she had ever seen at home. Glass elevators moved between floors, and in the center was a huge ice rink, where brightly dressed skaters moved gracefully over the ice. Julie steered her toward one end of the first floor, where the storefronts had been roped off to keep curious spectators off the set. The cameras had been set up by the entrance to a large department store, and Taffy could see a delicious array of sporty outfits arranged on counters and hanging from racks. One of the mannequins wore a terrific-looking sweatsuit in a gorgeous shade of teal. Maybe there would be time after the shoot to try it on, she thought.
"Hey, are you ready for this?" Julie asked.
"You bet," said Taffy confidently. But as she looked around at the crowd, composed mostly of noisy teenagers pressing close to the ropes and hanging over the railing of the mall's upper level, her confidence started to slip. "What a mob scene. Are they really going to let all those people watch?" she asked nervously.
Julie laughed. "Sure. They'll even hire some of them as extras to walk around on the set like shoppers and make the mall scenes seem real."
"Imagine getting paid to shop," Taffy said, rolling her eyes in ecstasy.
Just then Paige stepped up beside her. "I hope you don't let the crowd scare you into blowing your lines," she said icily. "I've seen it happen lots of times with other amateurs."
Taffy sucked in her breath and glared at Paige. "You just take care of your own lines," she snapped. "I'll take care of mine." Then she spun around and headed for makeup.
When she returned to the set a little while later, Chelsea, Megan, and Tess were there, blocking out the scene with Paige. The director, Jerry Lowenthal, was stomping around, waving his arms as he barked orders around the butt of a cigar. The gaffers were adjusting the lighting, and the grips were making their final checks to see that all of the equipment was in place. Taffy was still seething with anger, but she pasted on her best fake smile and headed toward her mark on the floor in front of the department store. When the scene began, she would wait there for her cue to move toward the others as if they had simply bumped into each other during a shopping trip at the mall. As she stepped onto the set, she tried to ignore all the squealing, giggling girls in the crowd, but just then a group of boys leaning against the ropes began whistling at her and stomping.
"Hey, baby! You can be in my movie anytime!" one of them yelled, which sent the others into fits of laughter.
Taffy felt her face redden. How could she possibly act her part with that going on!
"Quiet on the set!" Jerry yelled, and half a dozen second ADs moved to the ropes like riot policemen to keep order in the crowd.
Taffy could feel Paige's eyes on her, looking her over and sizing up her reaction to the boys' outburst. "Well, I'll show her," Taffy muttered under her breath. She raised her chin with a confident air and took her place.
The rehearsals went without a hitch. Taffy remembered her lines and spoke them perfectly, reminding herself that the secret to acting was to become the character. With Paige for an enemy off the set as well as in the story, that certainly wasn't hard to do.
"Places, everybody!" the director shouted. "Take one!"
The moment the cameras were rolling Taffy forgot that she was Taffy Sinclair. She was Tiffany Stafford, beautiful, misunderstood Tiffany, who was being unjustly persecuted by Jillian Morris and her friends. The scene was going perfectly when Chelsea's tongue suddenly twisted on a word and the director called, "Cut!"
"Sorry, guys," said Chelsea.
Taffy smiled sympathetically, happy that it had been Chelsea who had ruined the take instead of her.
"Take two!" called Jerry, and the slate snapped in front of the camera.
This time it was one of the set crew, tripping over an electrical cable and causing a clatter as he stumbled, who forced the scene to be cut.
Paige tapped her foot impatiently and mumbled something to Megan and Chelsea that Taffy couldn't hear.
Suddenly there was a commotion in the crowd, and a red-haired girl of about fourteen leaned over the second-floor railing and began shouting. "Paige Kramer! I know you! You used to be on Daddy's Little Darling! That was my favorite TV show when I was little. I watched you all the time."
"Oh, my gosh! It's Paige Kramer!" someone else cried out from behind the rope.
"I know her. She's a star!" came a voice from another direction.
Murmurs of "It's Paige Kramer!" and "She's a star!" flowed through the crowd like a giant wave. Paige threw Taffy a look of triumph and then began turning slowly like a music-box ballerina, waving and smiling to her fans. Some of them held out scraps of paper, begging for autographs, and when Paige went over to the rope and actually began signing her name, one little girl of eight or nine held out the tail of her T-shirt for Paige to write on.
Taffy longed to melt into the scenery. She could feel a sour taste gathering in her mouth. Why did this have to happen? Paige would never let her forget that the kids were actually calling her a star. And why didn't Jerry do something about it? They were supposed to be shooting a movie. But when she looked at the director, he was leaning against a camera, smiling as he watched Paige sign autographs and chomping on his cigar.
"Isn't it great to be a star?" sang a tiny voice beside her. Taffy looked down to see Tess standing there.
"Whose side are you on, anyway?" grumbled Taffy.
"You're letting her get to you," warned Tess.
"So?"
"That's exactly what she wants," argued Tess. "You know that as well as I do."
"I don't see what difference it makes," said Taffy. "She's the one getting the star treatment."
"Not for long, she isn't," said Tess in a coy voice.
"What do you mean?" asked Taffy, puzzled.
Tess smiled mysteriously. "Just that I have a friend in the right place." She smiled again. "Actually he's in the crowd, but at the moment that's not just the right place, it's the perfect place."
"What are you talking about?" Taffy demanded. Tess could be so frustrating sometimes, and this was certainly no time to kid around.
"You'll see," said Tess with a wave of her hand as she went skipping across the set like the small child she portrayed in the film.
Suddenly someone in the crowd reached out and touched Taffy's shoulder. She whirled to face a teenage boy with a shock of blond hair falling across his forehead.
"It's you! Taffy Sinclair!" he said in a loud voice, and everyone nearby turned to see whom he was talking about. "Your picture is right here in today's newspaper. This is you, isn't it, with Raven Blaine?" The boy held up a copy of a newspaper and pointed to a picture, which Taffy recognized at once as the one the newspaper photographers had taken of Raven and her in the restaurant.
At the mention of Raven's name, half the girls waiting for Paige's autograph surged toward Taffy.
"It is her!" shouted one of them. "I saw that picture, too!"
"You touched him!" sobbed another. "You touched Raven Blaine! I'd kill to be you!"
Taffy fought hard to suppress a giggle. Leave it to Tess, she thought. The boy who had called out to her must be the friend Tess had told her about. But she didn't have much time to wonder about Tess and her friend. Teenage girls were crawling over the ropes and swarming toward her, pushing Paige aside in their mad rush to meet someone who had actually touched Raven Blaine.
"What's he like?" begged a tall brunette with green eyes. "Is he coming to the set today?"
"Is he a good kisser?" screeched another. "He's so-o-o-o
gorgeous! He just has to be a good kisser!"
"Forget Paige Kramer! I want your autograph!" cried a cute blonde, who thrust a piece of paper toward Taffy.
"Me, too! Me, too!" came shouts from around the set.
Taffy reached for the papers and pens and quickly began signing her name in bold loops and swirls: Taffy Sinclair. It was like a dream come true. She wasn't just a seventh-grader at Wakeman Junior High. She was a celebrity. A star! So what if it had taken a friend of Tess's to get things started. Once the teenagers in the crowd realized that she was the girl in the newspaper picture with Raven Blaine, they had flocked around her, lavishing her with praise and begging her to tell them about Raven.
But the moment wasn't perfect, after all, because out of the corner of her eye she could see trouble waiting for her—trouble by the name of Paige Kramer.
CHAPTER NINE
The director allowed the autographing to go on for a few more minutes. Then he picked up a bullhorn and began shouting orders to the crowd.
"Okay, everybody! Behind the ropes, please! Quiet on the set!"
It took the help of the second ADs and the set crew to get all of the enthusiastic fans corralled behind the ropes again and order restored.
"Taffy! One more autograph—pleeeeeze!"
A thrill fluttered through Taffy, and she looked around quickly to see a wiry girl with long brown hair slithering under the rope on her stomach, clutching a scrap of paper in her outstretched hand.
It was all Taffy could do to keep from running to her and signing one last autograph, but a warning look from Jerry held her in her place, and Julie swiftly shooed the girl back under the rope. Taffy threw her an apologetic smile and crossed her fingers that the girl would stay until after the shoot.
I'll talk to all my fans then, she thought wistfully. And sign autographs until my fingers ache. "Oh," she murmured, "I wish this moment would never end."
"Places, everybody," Jerry barked. "Take three. Cameras up! Rolling!"
This time it was Taffy who flubbed a line. "Rats!" she said under her breath. She didn't dare look at Paige.
Finally, after the fifth take, Jerry yelled out, "Cut and print. That's a wrap for this morning!"
The crowd had broken up and the girl who had begged for an autograph was nowhere to be seen. Taffy shot a quick glance at Paige, who was glaring at her from the other side of the set, and then hurried to find Dollins. The last thing in the world she wanted to do right now was have a big fight with Paige. Nevertheless, she couldn't help muttering under her breath, "Call me an amateur now, Paige Kramer."
When Taffy returned to her hotel, she raced to the front desk to get the room key.
"Room nine seventeen," she said to the man behind the desk.
"Here you go, Miss Sinclair," he said pleasantly. "Here's your key, and it looks as if you have some mail, too."
Taffy nodded her thanks and looked at the two letters he handed her. They were both addressed to her. One had Shawnie's return address in the upper left-hand corner and the other one had Cory's. These were the letters Shawnie had told her about when she called on Tuesday, the ones she and Cory had each mailed on their way to school. Taffy closed her eyes and felt the old guilt creeping up on her again.
Nowhere in the entire week had she been able to squeeze in time to write to either of them. It was the truth, whether they would understand or not. Her days had been filled with filming and schoolwork, and the nights were taken up with memorizing the next day's lines, and naturally, with sleep. But they would think that she had simply gotten carried away with Hollywood and was too conceited even to think about her old friends at home.
She thought back over the events of the week, remembering the important things that had happened, which would fill her letter when she did find time to write. The trailer with the star over her name, her photograph in the newspaper with Raven Blaine, fans clamoring for her autograph. Her guilt deepened. Cory and Shawnie would never believe that she missed them.
When she reached her room, Taffy curled up on one end of the sofa and held a letter in each hand. Which one should I open first? she wondered. But there wasn't really a choice to be made as she ripped open Cory's letter. It was him she was dying to hear from.
Dear Taffy,
Hi. How are you? How is Hollywood? Do you like being a movie star?
There's nothing much new here. Hope I'll hear from you soon.
Cory
Taffy read the letter over three times before she folded it and put it back into the envelope. She had hoped it would be more romantic or that he would have signed it "Love, Cory." But he hadn't. He was probably too embarrassed to write a mushy letter, she thought with a smile.
Shawnie's letter was longer. In it she told Taffy everything that had happened since she left for Hollywood in almost minute-by-minute detail. Doing homework. Watching television. Going to the mall.
She even mentioned Taffy's old enemies, The Fabulous Five.
I was sitting with The Fabulous Five at Bumpers yesterday after school, and Beth Barry told everybody that she's going to try out for the Halloween show. That's certainly no big deal compared to what you're doing. Right?
Right! Taffy thought and smiled to herself. She had forgotten just how boring life really was at Wacko Junior High.
She was even having trouble paying attention to what Shawnie was saying. But the last paragraph of the letter jarred her back to attention.
Cory called last night, and we talked for a long time, mostly about you. I told him how much I missed you and how lonely I was already. He's really nice. He said he missed you, too, and that I could talk to him anytime I was feeling sad. Well, I'd better hit the sack now. Write soon.
Love,
Shawnie
Taffy frowned and read the paragraph again. What did Shawnie mean, he's really nice. He is nice, Taffy argued with herself. He's just being a friend. And if he told Shawnie that she could talk to him when she's sad, he was only trying to make her feel better. Taffy glanced out the window at the hazy mountains pointing sharp fingers toward the sky. There was a terrible ache in her throat, and suddenly Wacko Junior High seemed a million miles away.
"I'll write to both of them this afternoon," she said resolutely.
The sharp ring of the telephone startled her. Taffy raced to answer it.
"Hello," she said softly.
"Hi, Taffy. It's KJ. There's going to be a party at the beach this afternoon. Wanna catch some rays with the rest of the cast?"
"A party? . . . Wow . . . I mean . . ." Taffy fumbled. Her mind was racing. The cast! That meant that Raven would be there. But so would Paige Kramer.
Heat flamed up Taffy's face at the thought of facing Paige so soon after the disaster at the shoot this morning. But it would give her a chance to see Raven again somewhere beside on the set. Maybe they could talk, even stroll on the beach. Maybe she could find out why he flirted with her and acted as if he thought she was special some of the time and practically ignored her at other times.
"Grab your suit and your shades and be downstairs in the lobby in half an hour," KJ instructed before Taffy had time to object.
"Okay, but let me check with my mom first," said Taffy.
Mrs. Sinclair looked up from cutting Taffy and Raven's picture out of a tall stack of newspapers and gave her permission, and Taffy ran around the hotel room in a frenzy, changing into her blue bikini and pulling the matching top over her head. Next, she snatched her sunglasses off the dresser and a towel out of the bathroom, stuffing them into a beach bag, and surveyed the hotel room frantically to see if there was anything she had forgotten. Her gaze fell on the two letters, lying forlornly on the sofa. She caught her breath. She had promised herself that she would answer them this afternoon. But how could she miss the beach party and the chance to see Raven?
The thought made her heart pound against her chest like surf on the rocks, and she closed the door behind her and got on the elevator for the ride down to the lobby.
&nb
sp; CHAPTER TEN
Taffy had forgotten to ask KJ what sort of car to look for, and she had half expected a limousine like her own. Instead, a flame-red IROC-Z full of laughing teenagers screeched to a stop under the hotel portico, and a waving KJ yelled for her to get in. Taffy's pulse raced with excitement. Back home, none of her friends were old enough to drive yet, and a parent or older brother or sister had to take them everywhere they went.
"Come on, Taffy," Tess called from the backseat. "I'll sit on your lap."
Taffy scanned the occupants of the car. Paige, angrily staring straight ahead, sat in the front seat next to KJ. Megan and Chelsea were crowded into the back with Tess. Where was Raven? Taffy smiled to mask her disappointment. Maybe KJ was picking him up next. Maybe he would sit beside her. But how could they talk to each other if Tess was sitting on her lap? What's worse, he might get into the front seat where there was more room and sit beside Paige.
"Come on, Taffy. We don't have all day," teased Megan.
Taffy ducked into the backseat and sank down behind KJ. Tess was true to her word and climbed onto Taffy's lap.
"This is a neat car," Taffy called to KJ.
"You think this is a neat car when you've got a limo with your own chauffeur?" Tess asked in disbelief.
"Hey, not all of us were flown in from the other side of the country to star in this movie," KJ reminded her good-naturedly. "The rest of us live out here and beat our brains out auditioning for minor roles. Hey, but it's a living, right?"
"Right," said Chelsea. "I may not be a star yet, but I've had my college education paid for since I was twelve because of the parts I've played."
"Me, too," said Megan. Then she added with a laugh, "It sure beats baby-sitting or working at McDonald's."