by Dahlia Adler
“I know. I’m sorry. I wish I could help.”
“I wish you could too,” I said with a little laugh. “Oh well. I’ll figure it out. How’s Berlin?”
“Couldn’t tell you; I’ve barely seen any of it. I’m in a car on my way to the hotel now, but I’m pretty much just dropping my stuff and changing for a meet ’n greet thing. Then tomorrow I film the commercial, and then I have to meet some director, and the next day I’m doing a photo op at some…something. I don’t even know.” He yawned and I laughed.
“You sound very excited by it all,” I teased.
“I would fucking run home to you on the autobahn right now if I could.”
I started to respond, but then Liam said, “one second,” and I heard him talking to someone for a minute before he returned. “I’m here,” he said apologetically, “and I really gotta go. I’m sorry, Al. I’ll call you tomorrow if I can.”
The thought of letting him go so soon made me ache, especially in the stark loneliness of the hospital, but I knew I didn’t have a choice. “Okay,” I said softly. “Thanks for checking in.”
“Of course. I miss you.”
“I miss you too. And hey, Liam?”
“Yeah?”
“Make sure someone teaches you how to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ in German. You don’t want to sound like a d-bag.”
His laughter flowed rich and warm into my ear, closing the 10,000-mile gap between us, if only for a moment. “I really miss you, Al. No, wait. Tu me manques vraiment.”
Good thing I was already in the hospital; I was in serious danger of my heart melting right out of my body. “Tu me manques vraiment aussi. Je ne peux pas attendre de te voir lundi.”
“Too much, Al.”
I grinned. “I can’t wait to see you on Monday.”
“Same here. Auf Wiedersehen.”
“Auf Wiedersehen.” I hung up, but instead of putting my phone away, I kept staring at it, tracing the screen with a green-polished fingertip. That had been our first taste of a long-distance relationship, and although it had been a sweet phone call, I couldn’t help wondering if that would be enough when I no longer had my dad to go back to afterward.
* * * * *
I’d thought the rest of break would drag, but between my dad coming home, Van putting me through the wringer with errands, and studying like a machine, Monday arrived in a flash. The good news was, that meant seeing Liam. The bad news—I had to sit through everyone talking about their awesome spring break trips first.
“I can’t believe you missed it,” Dana gushed as we set our trays down at their usual table in the cafeteria. “It was soooo fun.”
“Soooo fun,” Leni echoed, picking slices of tomato off her veggie burger.
“We got drunk and hooked up with hot guys, like, every night. Oh my gosh, Len, remember Barry?”
“Barry!” Leni cracked up and Dana joined in, and I sat there, sipping at my Coke and waiting for an explanation that never came. Barry must’ve been a real riot.
“Barry was so funny,” said Dana, as if reading my mind. “Like, we had this waiter, and we thought he didn’t speak English, but then it turned out he just had an accent and he was speaking English the whole time, and then Barry was all, ‘Oh my God, that was English! Whaaat?’ It was hilarious.”
“Mmhmm,” I murmured around my straw.
“Maybe you had to be there,” Leni said generously.
“Sounds like it.” I definitely had to spend thousands of dollars to go to Jamaica to do exactly what we could’ve done at one of Macy Easton’s parties any weekend. Definitely. “Glad you guys had a great time.”
“How was here?” Dana asked with a sniff.
I shrugged. “Good. Hung out with Vanessa. Spent time with my dad.”
“Fun,” Leni offered, and I could tell she wanted to mean it.
“Not with Nate?” Dana asked coolly.
I froze. Had she seen me with him at the Lunchbox? She couldn’t have. “Why would I hang out with Nate?”
“I saw you on CelebriTeens.com with Liam and Vanessa, at some restaurant. Apparently he’s your boyfriend now?”
Oh God. “It is so not what you think,” I assured Dana, racking my brain for how I could explain it. “He was just…helping me deal with that whole paparazzi mess, to make it clear there’s nothing going on between me and Liam.” There—that was close enough to the truth, if a little pathetic-sounding.
“If you say so.”
“I say so. There is definitely nothing going on between me and Nate, I assure you.” At least not from my end.
“Well, he’s right over there,” said Leni. “I’m sure he can settle this.” She always had a way of developing thoughts at the worst times. “Hey, Nate!”
Nate had been heading toward his usual table, but he stopped in his tracks at the sound of Leni’s voice and turned to us. His expression quickly flitted from surprised at being summoned by Leni to something considerably less readable when he saw I was sitting with her. “Hi, ladies.”
“Come sit with us,” Dana offered, her voice syrupy sweet as she indicated the empty chair next to me.
His eyebrows rose, but after a quick look at his friends, he slid his tray onto the table and sat. “How was your break?” he asked Dana and Leni, avoiding eye contact with me completely.
“Good.” Dana drew out the word, in full flirtation mode now. “Lots of sun, tequila, and bikini time. What more could a girl ask for?”
“Male company?” Nate suggested with a slow smile. If I wasn’t mistaken, he was flirting right back. “Sorry I missed it. The bikini time, at least.”
Dana’s cheeks flushed a little at Nate’s response, and I mentally threw up in my mouth. “Maybe next time. What’d you do over break?”
He didn’t so much as glance at me, not that I wanted him to. “Just hung out,” he said dismissively. “Nothing special.”
I could feel Dana’s smirk, even with my eyes still on my salad. “What about your ‘date’ with Ally? I saw it online.”
Nate laughed. “First rule of Hollywood—never believe anything you see. Or hear. Right, Duncan?” He elbowed me in the ribs.
I was tempted to elbow him back elsewhere, harder, but I refrained.
“Needless to say, I missed having real girls around,” said Nate, playing with the stupid black, yellow, and green bracelet Dana must’ve picked up in Negril. “Glad to have you ladies back.”
This was pathetic. Nate had no interest in Dana, and I knew it. Did he think he was making me jealous? Why was he even trying?
“I always wondered when you’d drop that fantasy,” said Dana, watching his fingers, Leni and I obviously fading into the background.
Nate laughed. “Vanessa’s hot, that’s it. Being famous doesn’t automatically make you fun. If anything, it seems to make you pretty weird.”
“Hey, fuck you,” I broke in without even thinking.
All three of them turned to stare at me, and Nate’s mouth twisted into an amused smile. “Come on, Ally. You have to admit that ‘date’ was lame.” He turned back to Dana. “Celebrities are lame. And trust me, anyone who even tries to date one should be committed.”
I knew if I sat there for a second longer, I was going to call Nate out on all his stupid bullshit, so I jumped up and started gathering my things. There was no way I was subjecting myself to this absurd conversation.
“Where are you going?” asked Leni, all stupid innocence again.
“Quiz next period,” I lied apologetically.
“Shopping after school?” Dana asked, though her eyes were still on Nate.
“Can’t. Work.”
“Oh, good,” I heard Nate say to Dana as I threw the last of my trash on my tray. “Then you’re free tonight.”
If I rolled my eyes any harder, they were going to fall out of my skull. I never thought I’d say this, but if I didn’t get out of my real life and onto a TV set soon, I was going to lose my mind.
* * * * *
&nbs
p; I skipped French that afternoon, partly because I really didn’t feel like seeing Nate again and partly because sometime during Calc I’d started imagining giving Liam a very warm welcome back to the U.S. and now I couldn’t stop. Even with my car radio blasting on the way over to the lot, the ride seemed to take forever. And of course I misplaced my pass, and of course I chipped my nail polish on the steering wheel, and of course I tripped and nearly fell on my butt on my way in.
But when I saw Liam across the room, wearing a tight blue T-shirt I knew probably did great things for his eyes and I could see did great things for the rest of him, I melted into a huge pile of no-other-crap-matters. He hadn’t seen me yet—he was in the middle of a scene with Jamal—so I just stood patiently on the side and looked my fill.
At least until a hand gripped my arm and yanked me away. “Hey!” Vanessa said, her voice strangely loud. “You’re finally here.” She shoved her cell phone in my hand. “I need you to pull off my messages and then call that guy at the radio station and see if you can bump my interview an hour. Then cancel my morning krav maga; I’m having brunch with Liam at the Beverly Wilshire. I have Bikram Yoga in the afternoon anyway. And then Liam and I have that party tomorrow night. Bryn has some dress on hold for me; ask her about it, and then I need you to pick it up.”
I was still trying to process the “brunch with Liam” part when she started tapping her foot. “Would you mind? I really need this stuff done.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I bit out, wondering why Vanessa was suddenly being so bossy. Then I activated her screen and immediately saw a note she’d obviously intended for me to see ASAP: Reporter is here.
Great. So much for even talking to Liam. If a reporter was watching, that meant Liam and Vanessa would have to be in full couple mode, and all of us would be trying extra-hard to prove I was nothing but hired help.
I got to work making the calls, then dealt with all the interview requests and texts from Jade’s assistant, Bryn, coming through to my phone. It was a good half hour before I got to look up from all the screens, and that was only to confirm to Vanessa that she could pull off the hot-pink top they’d decided to put her in to reshoot a scene.
I was just responding to a text from Bryn informing me exactly which bag by which designer I needed to pick up ASAP in order for Van to get photographed with it when another text popped up on Vanessa’s screen. From Liam. Hi, beautiful.
My stomach clenched at the sight of his message to Vanessa. Holy shit. They really were fooling around behind my back. I looked up to shoot daggers at Liam and saw him grinning at me and waggling his own cell. Oh. Whoops. Overreact much, Ally? This was actually sort of brilliant. I finished my response to Bryn and switched over to Vanessa’s phone. Hi yourself, handsome. Missed you while you were gone.
I missed you too. Never thought I’d be so happy to come to work.
I let the butterflies happily flit around for a few seconds before refocusing on the rest of the messages, then moved closer to set with the phone to try to get some good action shots to tweet. I snuck in a couple of shots of Liam, then boldly tweeted one: Check out the cutie on set w/me today!! <3
The responses flew in immediately, and I couldn’t help the little swell of pride at how many admirers my boyfriend had. Sure, it usually freaked me out more than anything, but today, sneaking glances at him across the set, the feeling that I was just really, really lucky kicked everything else’s butt.
At least until I heard, rather than saw, someone take the seat next to me, followed by an unfamiliar voice saying, “Ally, right?”
The reporter. Crap. Thankfully, Vanessa’s phone was already in my hand, and I could easily tuck it under my thigh. “Right,” I said in the best “I’m too busy for you” tone I could muster. Because Bryn’s texts on what brand of flip-flops Van should be wearing for her beach photo-op that weekend were obviously of the utmost importance.
“I’m Gavin. Nice to meet you.” He extended a hand, and I reluctantly shook it. It took no time at all to see he was the kind of guy who was used to getting his way with a charming smile, and admittedly, he was pretty hot. But Liam was hotter, and if this asshole thought his dimples were going to get him anywhere, he had no idea who he was dealing with.
And then I realized that was the point. Just like with the reporters on our disastrous double date, the story was whichever one we decided to tell.
“Really nice to meet you,” I replied, feigning disappointment at the loss of contact when I took my hand back. “So, you’re here to do a story on Vanessa and Liam?”
“I’m here to write about the show,” he lied through his teeth as he put his recorder down on the table between us. Reporters never came to pilot shoots to write about the show. Until Daylight Falls got picked up, Vanessa and Liam were the only story that mattered, and we both knew it. “It’s certainly getting a lot of interest for a pilot.”
“It’s a great show with great actors. I’m glad it’s getting the recognition it deserves.”
“Really great actors,” Gavin said with a nod, though I was sure he was exactly the type who thought all teen actors were bullshit. “So were you surprised when Vanessa got the part of Bailey?”
“Not really,” I lied, knowing exactly where this was going. “I mean, I know it had been written for a white girl, as pretty much everything in Hollywood seems to be, but Van’s perfect for the part, as I’m glad you’re getting to see today. Anyone who thinks she got the part for any reason other than her skill is going to feel like an idiot when they see the pilot. And I know her performances are going to encourage other writers and casting directors to write parts for actors of color, or at least be open to blind casting.”
If Gavin was surprised by my vehemence, he didn’t let on. I could feel him scrutinizing my face, though, and I hoped it meant he was intrigued enough by the topic to focus on what the real story should be. Instead, without missing a beat, he said, “And she’s obviously got great chemistry with Liam Holloway, both on and off the set.”
“That she does,” I said automatically, waggling my eyebrows like we were both in on the joke that the two of them couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Because of course he couldn’t want to talk about anything important for five seconds. How could racism in Hollywood possibly trump two pretty stars kissing for the cameras? “They’re so supportive of each other’s careers. It’s really nice to see. So refreshing.”
“Has Vanessa had past boyfriends who weren’t?”
Ugh, crapweasel. “Of course not, but it’s a vibe I get being around a lot of celebrities. There’s always a feeling of competition. And for good reason—it’s a competitive industry, and there’s a lot of talent out there.”
“There is, there is,” Gavin said in a tone I’d come to think of as “Hollywood thoughtful.” My phone was lighting up with a barrage of texts and e-mails, but I forced myself to ignore it, even though Gavin could plainly see I didn’t have time for this stupid crap right now. I knew full well the second I turned him away, the story would turn into something ugly. “Anyone in particular come to mind?”
Zoe. “Nope. I mean, when I think of talent, sure.” I laughed, the false sound unsettling to both of us, I was sure. “But at least on the Daylight Falls set, everyone has been awesome. Both to one another and to me.”
“Even Zoe Knight?” Gavin asked conspiratorially, as if my answer would be a secret just between us. Because, sure, I’m probably just that stupid. Once, maybe. Not again. “I’ve heard a lot of rumors…”
“People get jealous,” I said with a shrug, my nails digging into my thigh to force out the words I knew were necessary. “Zoe’s really sweet, and she was thrilled for Vanessa when she got the part. Plus, she’s so great as Grace. Like, right here, watch this scene where the two of them are talking about seducing Mr. Vasquez.”
“But—”
“No, watch it. You’ll see what I mean.” My phone lit up again, and I took that as my perfect cue, even though it was probably just another t
ext from Bryn. “I gotta take this. Thanks so much for talking with me!”
I hopped off my chair and headed toward craft services for a little peace and decaf. It wasn’t a text from Bryn at all, though; it was a call from my mom. My blood turned to ice. “Is everything okay?” I asked as soon as I picked up.
“Everything’s fine,” she assured me. “I was just hoping you might come home for dinner tonight. Your father and I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“I’m at work,” I said, keeping my voice low. Immediately, I felt like a bitch. Vanessa would’ve let me go; it was me who didn’t want to. I wanted to wait around until the stupid reporter and everyone else left, and then spend some time with Liam. But apparently I should’ve paid more attention to the universe’s sign that that wasn’t going to happen today.
“Can we eat at, like, seven?” I added quickly. “I have to pick up a bunch of stuff for Vanessa on my way home, then bring it by her place later.”
“Sure, honey. I’ll see you then.”
“Everything’s okay, right?” I couldn’t help asking again.
She laughed. “Yes, I promise.”
“Okay. I’m trusting you. And I’ll see you at seven.”
“Bye, honey.”
I said goodbye and hung up, slipped my phone in my pocket, and pulled out Vanessa’s so I could look at Liam’s last text. Then I wrote out my own, to give him a heads-up I’d be ducking out but allow us to at least say goodbye. Ally has to leave on the early side, so if you need her to pick anything up for you from Kitson, let her know. Then I went back to set. Vanessa was finally on a break.
“I have to leave at six,” I told her, glancing around to make sure Gavin was otherwise occupied before slipping her phone back to her. “Thanks for that,” I murmured before going back to my regular tone to say, “I’ll pick up your dress and everything else and drop them off at your house tonight.” “Perfect,” Vanessa said with a smile. “I’ll see you back here Wednesday? I need to put in some more SAT time so my parents can stop moaning about how I’d better keep my looks or I’m going to end up working at a gas station.”