Will the Real Abi Sanders Please Stand Up?

by Sara Hantz

  “Thanks,” I reply, feeling about ten feet tall.

  “You should think about making a career of it. You’re a natural.”

  Only a few weeks ago I had no idea what to do with my life, and now it’s like everything is falling into place. Doing the movie has given me a goal for my future. It’s something I’m doing on my own without Mom and Dad or Liv and Matt interfering. Even if they do it with the best of intentions, it’s good to know that I might be able to make it on my own.

  “Thanks. That would be so cool.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “No. I won’t.”

  Tilly sounds really angry; I wonder who she’s going after this time. I didn’t realize she knew about my hideaway in the woods. I often come here to get away from everything or to do some stretching between shooting. Maybe Jon mentioned it because I told him.

  So, should I stay here behind the tree and listen, or go back? The trouble is that they might hear me if I move and think I’m spying on them. Which I am now, even if it is unintentional.

  “You will do as I say, my girl, or you know the consequences.”

  What the…? No one in their right mind talks to Tilly like that.

  “Whatever. Look Mom, you don’t rule my life. Not anymore.”

  “Ohhhhhh,” I say out loud, then quickly slam my hand over my mouth to stop them from hearing me. It’s her mom. I’ve read in the magazines that she’s the driving force behind Tilly’s career and has been since Tilly was five.

  “Do you want the media to find out about your latest exploits, like I made sure they did the last time?” her mom snaps. “If you don’t, then you won’t question my decisions. They are for your own good.”

  Nooooo. She’s one of those moms. The kind who sell their kids out to the media. It’s just wrong. Moms should protect you, not spill everything to the newspapers. How can she live with herself after doing something like that to her daughter? There’s no way my mom would do anything like that to me. Ever.

  “For the good of your pocket, you mean,” Tilly growls.

  “Watch your mouth. You will sign the contracts, and that’s the end of it.”

  Man, I’m glad she’s not my mother. How come Tilly lets her call the shots? She’s over eighteen, plus with her money and lifestyle she can do whatever she wants. It doesn’t make sense. Maybe her mom has got something on her. Something that could wreck her career. But it can’t be that. No mom, even Tilly’s, would use something against their own daughter. Maybe, deep down, it’s because Tilly wants to please her mom like I want to please mine—most of the time. Although, in Tilly’s case, it doesn’t sound like it’ll ever happen.

  “Mom, three movies in a year is crazy. Not to mention all the publicity they get me to do. I need some time off.”

  “You’ll have plenty of time off when the next bright young thing arrives on the scene. In the meantime, you work and work hard. If you need anything from my physician contacts to help keep you on top, you know I can arrange it.”

  Physician contacts? Does she mean drugs? I don’t care how famous Tilly is. It’s not right. Anyway, I can’t stay and listen to this. I’m heading back. I turn and put one foot in front of the other as lightly as possible so they can’t hear me.

  After a few minutes, I see Vince heading in my direction. Another person who knows my secret place, which clearly isn’t secret at all. I just thought it was because I’ve never seen anyone there before.

  “Hey, Vince, don’t go that way,” I say, pointing toward the woods.

  “Why not?”

  “Tilly’s there, having a shouting match with her mom.”

  “Ah, I was wondering when the infamous Renee would turn up.” He grimaces.

  “You know her then?”

  “Everyone knows her. She makes periodic visits to the set, when globe-trotting allows, creates as much stink as possible, then disappears.” He shrugs. “I guess we’ll all suffer once Renee goes, because Tilly’s not going to be happy.”

  I feel sorry for Tilly. It can’t be easy for her to have a mom like that. No wonder she acts like she does sometimes. It’s not like she has a good role model.

  Yikes, I’m sounding like Mom. Then again, that proves my point.

  “Well, it must be hard for her. Moms aren’t supposed to be like that.”

  “Oh, Abi. You’re so sweet.” He ruffles my hair, and I pull away. Unnecessarily messed-up hair doesn’t go down too well with Mel. “Not everyone has a regular mom like yours.”

  “How do you know what my mom’s like?”

  “Because I hear you on the phone with her, and I’ve seen you together when she’s picked you up from the set instead of Matt. We all have. Don’t knock it. I bet Tilly would kill to have a mom like yours.”

  She would? Really? But if she had my mom, she wouldn’t have been in the movies. She’d have had a normal life instead, and Tilly doesn’t do normal. Why would she want to when she is worshipped wherever she goes?

  Then again, maybe Vince has got a point. I don’t know how I’d have coped without Mom being with me when things got tough. I’m not saying she isn’t annoying sometimes, because there are times when she tries to tell me what to do and she seems to forget that I’m actually an adult. But I can talk to her about stuff and know that she’ll support me. Not like Tilly’s mom. According to the tabloids—and based off what I heard this afternoon—her agenda is all about the dollar, and if it means screwing over her daughter, well, then so what.

  “Maybe.” I see Tilly walking near a row of motorcycles, looking strangely withdrawn, the usual Tilly sparkle uncharacteristically subdued. I gesture in her direction. “I’m going to see if she’s okay.” I leave Vince and run over to her.

  “Hi,” I say.

  “What do you want?” Tilly narrows her eyes and glares at me.

  “I. I. h-h-heard you with your mom. And-and wondered if you were okay.” Now that the words are out, they make me sound really lame.

  She flinches, just a little, when I mention her mom. “Of course I’m okay. What’s it to you?”

  “N-n-nothing. I thought you might want to talk about it.”

  “Well, you thought wrong.” Tilly storms off.

  As I watch her retreat, it hits me, the reason why she’s mean all the time. It’s a defense mechanism. She’s in pain and doesn’t want anyone to find out. So she keeps people at a distance, being nasty to them so they don’t even try to get close to her. It doesn’t stop what she says to me from hurting, though. And it’s still not right.

  …

  By the time Zac’s finally happy with today’s shoot, I realize it’s way too late for me to go to Liv’s house before the party. I texted a while ago to tell her we were way behind, and the response was terse, to say the least.

  But it’s not like I didn’t warn her.

  Anyway, I need to get home ASAP to shower and change. If I hurry I’ll just make the nine-fifteen bus. I’d ask Matt to pick me up, but can’t because I asked him to go early to the party since I couldn’t. And I can’t call Mom because she’s busy tonight. Maybe I should get a cab, except it will cost about fifty dollars. I’m going to borrow Mom’s car once I make it home to get to Liv’s aunt’s place. Liv said we can sleep over in their guestroom.

  “Hey, Abi. You coming?” Jon’s voice startles me. I didn’t know he was on set, so unlike me not to notice him.

  “Where?”

  “The Tavern. Everyone’s going. I figure they need it after today. Zac certainly got his money’s worth out of you all.”

  “Sorry, going to a party,” I say, wanting to scream in frustration. How unlucky can a girl be? Typical that they’re going out tonight of all nights. The Tavern is an amazing place, not that I’ve ever been there before. Way out of my league, but if I were with everyone from here, it would be okay.

  “Go later. Parties never warm up ’til the early hours.” He gives one his knee-wobbling smiles, and my stomach goes all fluttery. I can’t believe he really wants me to go wi
th them. It’s so tempting, and he’s right about parties taking a while to get going.

  I could just go for a little while and then head for the party. Hopefully, Liv will understand. It would just be so nice to spend some time with Jon. Anyway, he might want for me to go with them now, but once Tilly’s around, he’ll be with her and he won’t be able to talk to me. So I probably won’t even be that late.

  “I’d love to, but I’m not sure. Even if I could go, I don’t have anything to wear, I can hardly go like this.” I glance down at my dress, which I love, but it’s so not club gear.

  “Borrow something else from wardrobe. Ask Fran.”

  He’s making this so hard for me.

  “It takes forever to get my make-up off. You’ll be long gone by the time I’m ready.”

  ”I’ll wait for you.” He grins, and my heart skips a beat.

  “Won’t Tilly mind?” I ask.

  “Didn’t I say? I thought I did. Tilly’s not going. She’s not feeling well. She’s going back to the hotel, so you could stand in for her and be my partner. I promise to get you to the party later. I’ll come with you, if you’d like.”

  If I like? Of course I freakin’ well like. This is beyond anything I’ve ever imagined. How can I say no? Liv’s got to understand, I’ll text her and say I’m definitely coming, just a bit later than I thought. Actually, no I won’t. If I just turn up, she might not realize how late it really is. Especially if Jon’s with me—and some of the other actors too, with a bit of luck.

  “Okay, you’ve persuaded me. You’ll wait for me to get changed, won’t you?”

  “I already said I would. Off you go, and I’ll go find the others and call a cab. Meet us in the parking lot.”

  He leans forward and gives me a kiss on the cheek. I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. I give a huge, dozy smile and run off, hoping he doesn’t notice I’ve gone bright red.

  …

  “Dance?” Jon whispers in my ear, sending shivers shooting up and down my spine.

  “Sure.” I take a long slurp of my drink through the straw and get up. Then promptly fall back down again. “Ooops.” I giggle.

  Jon takes my hand and guides me up from my chair. “Allow me,” he says.

  He keeps hold of my hand as we head towards the dance floor, and it’s so exciting because, as we walk, the crowds of people part to let us through. They know we’re part of the movie crowd.

  This club is insane. And I got in without being carded. There are low round tables with stools around them, and there’s actually a waterfall beside the bar. Liv will be so jealous when I tell her. The owner of the club has been sending over cocktails for us all night—free. I think he’s angling for a visit to the set so he can meet Tilly. He certainly keeps talking about her enough, asking where she is and if she’ll be coming by later. Jon’s being all noncommittal, saying that he’s not sure, but she could be. I guess he doesn’t want to stop the drinks from coming.

  “Hey,” calls a voice next to me. “Want to come home with me tonight?”

  “Sorry,” drawls Jon. “She’s with me.”

  My heart pounds in my chest. It’s like I’m in the best fantasy ever.

  “No problem,” says the guy who, judging by his appearance, wouldn’t look twice at me under normal circumstances. “What about an autograph instead?”

  The people he’s with laugh, and so does Jon. I’m in too much of a daze to do anything other than grin inanely.

  “Later,” Jon says.

  We float to the dance floor. Okay, I’m the one doing the floating, but what do you expect? I just hope this doesn’t turn out to be a dream.

  Someone’s looking out for me tonight, because after we’ve been dancing for a very short while they play a slow song, and Jon wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me close. The smell of his cologne invades my senses. I don’t know what it is, but I’ll remember the smell for as long as I live.

  “Having fun?” Jon asks.

  What a question. How could I not be?

  “Mmmm,” I say.

  “Better than some boring party?”

  Oh, no. The party. I haven’t been paying attention to the time since… What time is it? My arms are linked around Jon’s neck, but I manage to press the light on my watch so I can see. Crap. It can’t be.

  It’s past one.

  Guilt shoots through me. I have to go. But Jon’s the first guy I’ve really liked who’s liked me back. Not counting relegated-to-the-Friend-Zone Matt, so I’m not thinking about him. Everything is so magical that I can’t spoil it. But I have to. It’s Liv’s party, and I can’t let her down.

  “I have to go,” I say softly, and he pulls his head back a little and gazes into my eyes.

  Whoa. He’s going to kiss me. I know he’s going to kiss me—I’ve seen that look before. Only this time he’ll be kissing me intentionally and not by mistake. What if he thinks I’m the most awful kisser he’s ever known? I close my eyes and prepare myself for a memorable experience.

  Suddenly, an elbow in my back makes me stumble, and I fall forward. Jon’s grip tightens, keeping me from losing my balance.

  I jerk my head around and a flash of light blinds me. My hands instinctively shield my eyes. What the…

  “Get out of here,” Jon growls. He pushes the guy with the camera aside, pulls me by the arm, and marches off the dance floor. I wish he wouldn’t squeeze my arm so hard. It’s really hurting.

  We get back to our table, and Jon sort of gently pushes me down on the seat. I slide along to make room for him to sit, but he just stands there a frown on his face.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “Nothing. I’m just going to talk to someone, I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “But the party. I have to…”

  “I won’t be long,” he says, interrupting me and leaning down and resting his arm on my shoulder. “I’ll stop at the bar and ask them to send over another cocktail for you. Okay?” He walks away before I have time to answer.

  I lean back and close my eyes, but quickly open them again since having them closed makes me feel sick. What’s so important that he has to leave me on my own? I wonder where Vince is. I haven’t seen him, or the others, for a long time. We all sat together at first, but one by one they all disappeared. He might be with the girl from craft services. They always seem to be together these days. She’s really nice. I hope something happens between them.

  “Hey, Abi. You okay?”

  Well, how spooky is that? I think about Vince, and he appears. “Sure. Seat?” I pat the bench beside me.

  Just as he’s sitting the bartender arrives with my cocktail, which he places in front of me. I pick it up and take a long drink.

  “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Vince asks.

  Excuse me. Who does he think he is, my mother? “I can handle my liquor, you know.” I glare at him.

  “You could have fooled me. I saw you staggering all over the dance floor.”

  “That’s not true. Some photographer guy blinded me with his flash, and I lost my balance.”

  “Yeah, right. Come on, Abi. Don’t do anything you’ll regret in the morning.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “With Jon. You might be Tilly on the set, but you’re not her. Remember that.”

  “Look, if all you’re going to do is lecture me, then go away, thank you very much.” I pointedly pick up my glass and drink the rest of it straight down.

  Ooops. I don’t think that was such a good idea. I can feel it bubbling in the pit of my stomach. Oh, God, please don’t let me vomit. Not here, it would spoil everything.

  I draw in a long deep breath, which stems the feeling a little.

  “I’m not trying to be your mother. But I do care about you. You’re a good kid, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  Kid. He’s calling me a kid. Is that what they all think of me? Is that how Jon sees me?

  I’m not a kid. I’m eighteen. I’m not much
younger than Tilly. How come they don’t think of her as a kid? You’d think it would have been harder for her to be taken seriously as an adult since she grew up in the entertainment industry. Maybe that’s why she’s so prickly all of the time. Right now, I can hardly blame her.

  “I won’t get hurt, and I’m not naïve either. I know things.” I cross my arms and scowl at him.

  “Yes, I can see that.” Vince shakes his head. “Come on, why don’t I get you home?”

  “Move it, Vince.” Jon’s voice makes me start. “I want to sit next to Abi.”

  “Abi and I were just leaving. She’s ready to go.”

  I am? I didn’t say that. And I wouldn’t. Why would I spoil such an awesome night by going home? Ridiculous.

  Jon looks from Vince to me. “You are?”

  Sorry, Vince, but opportunities like this don’t come along very often. If at all. “Of course not. The evening’s barely begun.” I fix my eyes firmly on Jon, not daring to look at Vince.

  “But…” says Vince.

  “Don’t worry about me, Vince. I’ll be fine. You go.” I give a dismissive wave.

  “What about your friend’s party?” He arches an eyebrow.

  “First you want me to go home. Now you want to go to the party. What is it with you?” I’m getting fed up of him interfering. I can look after myself.

  “Forget it.” Vince holds up both his hands. “Do what you want, I’m off. See you Monday.” He gets up and walks away without even looking back.

  Now I feel like crap. But I’ll get over it now that Jon’s back, and we can be together.

  “Was that your phone?” Jon says interrupting my thoughts.

  “What? I don’t know. I didn’t hear anything. I’ll check.” I reach into my purse and pull it out. It’s a text from Liv: How could you? I hope it’s worth it. DON’T reply. EVER.

  Chapter Fourteen

  My head really hurts. As in, there’s-a-herd-of-elephants-charging-through-my-brain really hurts. If I never see a pink cocktail again, it will be way too soon.

  I pull the pillow over my face to shield myself from the light shining through the gap at the bottom of the drapes, which is making me feel even worse. If that’s possible.