Secrets of My Hollywood Life: Family Affairs

by Jen Calonita

  I’m not worrying about the Alexis problem now. Today is about Austin and how I can make his birthday spectacular. Even the sight of Austin’s ex, Lori, hanging her bony arm on Austin can’t crush my mood. I get to play dedicated girl-friend for once without a box of hot-off-the-presses Hollywood Nation issues falling on my head.

  After the Homecoming football game (which Clark loses 17-5), Rodney and I hop into our undercover car — we use Nadine’s beat-up Nissan — and drive to Austin’s house without being followed. YES! For once, things couldn’t go smoother.

  “Boo,” I whisper, walking up behind Austin, who is alone and sneaking a lick of frosting from his birthday cake. The Meyerses’ kitchen smells like vanilla and raw cookie dough and looks like a country catalog. Their farmhouse table and restored icebox freezer are a faded green and the wallpaper is a dizzying pattern of apples and roosters. I start singing the “Happy Birthday” song and my oxygen supply is cut off with a long kiss.

  “Guys,” Rodney whines. “You know I hate when you do that in front of me.”

  “Sorry, Rod.” Grinning, Austin gently pulls the curly mop off my head and removes my sunglasses. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work, Burke?” He frowns slightly. “I don’t want you getting in any trouble on account of me.”

  “I’m not in trouble.” I was a little panicked that my lie to Austin was going to be reality. I thought we were going to have to work because of the delay in filming all last week, but Tom was so backed up in postproduction that he gave us the time off anyway. Not that he was happy about it.

  I wipe a smudge of chocolate frosting off the side of Austin’s mouth. “I lied about working today,” I admit with a grin, “so that you couldn’t give Rod and me a hard time about checking out the game.”

  “You were there?” Austin asks, his blue eyes wide. “But . . . how? The paparazzi were crawling all over the place. Larry the Liar even tried to get on the field! Principal P. made an announcement about how you weren’t there, hoping they’d all leave.”

  I tell Austin about Rodney’s security plan and how everything went smoothly. “Which means that since no one saw me at the game, and Principal P. announced I wasn’t coming, and you and Lizzie told everyone at Clark I was working, the coast is clear for me to go to Homecoming with you and see you crowned as part of the court,” I ramble. Austin opens his mouth to protest and I take a spoonful of the leftover icing from the bowl on the counter and stick it in his mouth. “Laney and my parents know where I am and they’re okay with it too,” I promise, reading his thoughts. “And I agreed Rodney could shadow me so I won’t be caught off-guard if Larry or any of the other persistent stalkers show up. I promise we’ll leave at the first sign of trouble, not that I think there will be any,” I cut him off and babble quickly. “One last thing — the dress I got for tonight is not to be missed. I wouldn’t be surprised if it caused you heart palpitations. So what do you say, birthday boy? Aren’t you going to ask me to the dance?” I bat my eyes.

  “Kates,” Rodney whines again.

  “Sorry, Rod.” I take a spoon and scoop up some frosting myself. Wow, is that fudge?

  “You really want to go with me to some lame dance?” Austin asks, grinning.

  “Yes,” I say. “Homecoming doesn’t sound lame to me. It sounds like more fun than I’ve had in months.”

  “You won’t be saying that after you see what we have planned for your birthday.” Austin winks. Then his bright smile fades. “Wait. We can’t. I only have one ticket for me and you can’t get any at the door.”

  I pull a shiny orange ticket from my J Brand jeans pocket. “Not a problem. Liz bought me one weeks ago.”

  Austin kisses me again and Rodney coughs. “You’re amazing,” he says.

  “I’m glad someone thinks so.” I look deep into Austin’s blue eyes. “But don’t thank me too much. I still don’t have a replacement birthday gift for you.” After what went down in Sin City, Laney and Mom vetoed a return flight anytime soon, nixing all plans I had for Austin’s NASCAR experience. How could I argue? I’m not proud of what happened in Vegas. Especially since it didn’t stay there.

  Austin squeezes my waist tighter, and my body feels warm. “Vegas is overrated anyway, and I told you that gift was too elaborate. It makes me uncomfortable when you spend so much.” He nuzzles my chin. “Besides, figuring out a way to go to Homecoming with me, even after I claimed I didn’t care about going, is the best birthday present you could give me.” He kisses me softly on the lips again. I hear footsteps, but I’m enjoying the moment too much to pull away.

  “I didn’t know you two were back,” Austin’s mother says. She grabs the bowl of leftover frosting from the kitchen counter. “How was the game?”

  “You knew Kaitlin was going?” Austin asks.

  She laughs. “Why do you think I set two extra places at the table? For Kaitlin and Rodney! We’ve got to eat dinner and have cake early so you two can get to the dance,” she adds. Her blond hair is pulled back in a ponytail and she’s wearing a navy blue velour warm-up suit. If Mom were here, she’d probably convince Mrs. Meyers to change, claiming velour is “too mainstream now.”

  “Rodney, you’ll be staying for dinner, won’t you? I made lasagna and there’s plenty of cake,” Mrs. Meyers adds.

  “Thank you. It all smells amazing,” Rodney says happily. “Tell me, is that homemade fudge frosting? I couldn’t help tasting a spoonful.”

  Dinner moves quickly and the phone doesn’t ring for me even once! Mom and Laney haven’t called to ask me about another damage control interview, fittings for my next Fever cosmetics commercial, or whether I’m free for dinner next Thursday to meet a producer about a potential project. I think even Team Burke knows I need a day off after how stressful work has been.

  The post-Vegas fiasco vibe on set has been colder than a Vanilla Ice Blended. No one under the age of seventeen is talking AT ALL, except when they go to the principal’s office — aka Tom’s, with whom everyone is setting up private meetings to discuss the tense situation and all the rumors about one of us being canned. The only bright spot is that Alexis is busy trying to do damage control with Ava and Hallie and it’s not working. The pair of them have been so turned off by Alexis’s betrayal that they’ve told anyone who will listen the true version of Vegas events.

  I’m clinging to the hope that my meeting with Tom goes well so I can tell him what happened too. But Tom’s assistant hasn’t given me a date or time for mine yet. I know Sky doesn’t have one either. That can’t be a good sign.

  Things at FA are messier than they’ve ever been, and that includes the season Melli fought with our director every week over lighting. Speaking of Melli, she and the older players, like Spencer, are so disappointed by the Vegas thing that they aren’t talking to us either. It’s killing me not to have Melli to talk to. Throw in the crew, who is bitter about having to work weekends, and you’ve got tension thicker than a smoggy Los Angeles morning. I’m fixated on what Tom is going to do. How does the network not realize Alexis is the root of all evil? The Darth Maul of actors? The Voldemort of TV?

  Whenever I’ve thought of leaving FA (being wooed away to star in a blockbuster trilogy . . . taking a break and attending school fulltime . . .) the one scenario I didn’t think of was being fired. Tom’s always praised me for being a professional and now here I am, along with everyone else, in the middle of a major feud. I want my FA run to end when I say so, not because of some stupid costar.

  “Are you okay, Burke?” Austin asks. He gives my hand a squeeze and shakes me loose from my dark thoughts as Rodney drives us to Clark High School a little while later in Nadine’s Nissan. “Do you want to back out? We can turn this car around, you know. I wouldn’t blame you after what happened at the Spring Fling.” He looks worried.

  My other worst nightmare come to life reenters my mind. I can see Sky outing me when I went undercover as “Rachel Rogers,” in front of a gym packed with my classmates and camera crews. I think of the media scruti
ny of my life that followed and I stare at Austin intently to calm my nerves. His hair smells of coconut shampoo and is gelled. He’s wearing his Armani suit, the one he was gifted when he was supposed to be my date to the Teen Titan awards. Well, before I canceled on him and we broke up for a few weeks. I ran after him hours before the show started to apologize, and we got back together again. I’m exhausted just thinking about our crazy courtship. I quickly push the stalkerazzi images away. “I’m going.” I’m firm. “Tonight is your night and I’m not missing it.”

  “This is not going to be a repeat of the Spring Fling,” Rodney tells us. “I’ve done a thorough study of the gym this time. I know all the exits, how many paces it will take to get to Nadine’s car, how to handle any undercover paparazzi who might show. Nothing is going to go wrong.”

  I smile at Rod, who has changed out of his football duds and into a tailor-made gray suit.

  “Rodney, your bodyguard skills rock,” Austin says. I freeze, moving only my eyes to look at Rodney’s. OOPS!

  HOLLYWOOD SECRET NUMBER ELEVEN: If you’re a celebrity, you never refer to the person you’ve hired to protect you as your bodyguard. Rod, and all the guys he knows in the biz, seem to think the word bodyguard sounds like a mindless thug, while the term personal security has a more intelligent ring. They’ve certainly earned the right to be called whatever they want. Rod is responsible for protecting me 24/7, drops everything in his life to fit my schedule, has to worry about getting sued over altercations, and is stuck following me everywhere, even when I do something as unguyish as get a pedicure. No wonder we pay him almost $200,000 a year.

  “Thanks,” Rodney mumbles as we pull into the familiar parking lot. I’m sure he’ll forgive Austin for the slipup.

  There are no camera vans in sight and I breathe a sigh of relief. Still, Rodney gets out of the car first and moves us swiftly to the back entrance of the boys’ locker room. He raps on the metal door three times and I give myself a once-over while I wait. I chose a Dolce & Gabbana pale pink satin dress for tonight. The lingerie-style gown clings to my every curve, ends at my knees, and is held up by spaghetti straps. My hair is pulled back in a smooth low bun.

  The door slowly opens and Principal Pearson peeks out.

  “Right on time,” she squeals with a clap of her hands. “I’m so happy to see you!” We hug.

  “Principal P. was in on this too?” Austin sounds incredulous. We both nod.

  “Everything okay on the inside?” Rodney asks her.

  Principal P. nods. “Not a camera in sight, well, if you ignore the disposable ones the students are using. I can’t do anything about those, but I did ban camera phones. I’m sure that was slightly suspicious of me, but I had them confiscated at the door.”

  “You’re incredible,” I tell Principal P. as she guides us out of the dark locker room, which smells faintly like old gym socks. We head down the long corridor to the gym. “Thanks for helping me so I could be here.”

  Principal P. pauses. Her round face crinkles slightly and she pushes her short salt-and-pepper hair out of her eyes. Tonight she’s put away her eclectic dresses and chosen a floral purple pantsuit. “While I have you, Kaitlin, I was hoping you could tell me a bit about . . .”

  Oh no. I forgot Principal P. is a Family fanatic. Please don’t say Alexis or Vegas. Laney made me swear on any future Oscar nominations that I wouldn’t let the words Alexis or Vegas cross my lips tonight.

  “. . . Alexis Holden.”

  UGH. “What about her?” I ask, trying not to sound nervous.

  “I hate her,” Principal P. says without hesitating. “She’s a dreadful actress. What does the show see in her?”

  “Principal P., I love you!” I gush, letting go of Austin’s hand and throwing myself around her large frame. She laughs. “Ask me anything about the show. Anything! If I have the answer, I’ll tell you.”

  See? I didn’t say Alexis’s name.

  Rodney chuckles. “You have no idea how happy you’ve made her.”

  Moments later, we’re standing at the open gym doors. The Clark High School gymnasium had been transformed into a fall festival. There are bales of hay stacked up along the walls that are topped with pumpkins and mums in plum, orange, and yellow. Scarecrows stand guard at the punch stand where orange-iced cupcakes are arranged in a cake tower. So far I’ve spotted candy and caramel apples and even a cotton candy machine. Yum. The only bad move, it seems, is that someone decided to partially cover the floor in hay, which is proving to be a dance hazard. Organza-clad girls are sliding around in their open-toe sandals.

  “You made it!” Liz shrieks. She pulls Austin and me into a group hug. When she lets go, I see she’s wearing the sparkly blue Jenni Kanye dress we bought at The Grove. Her curly hair is down. It bounces as she bops to the beat of the music.

  “I can’t believe you were all in on this and no one told me!” Austin laughs.

  Someone covers my eyes and whispers, “Guess who?”

  “Beth!” I turn around to hug her petite frame. There’s no hiding Allison’s tall ballerina body standing right behind her. “Ali! I’ve missed you guys!” The pair of them, plus Lizzie and Austin, were the only people nice enough to befriend me when I masqueraded as Rachel at Clark. I haven’t seen either girl since they visited me this summer on the set of PYA a few months ago.

  “The best part about you being here is watching our favorite Homecoming court princess’s reaction.” Allison tosses her brown hair over her shoulder and I see Austin’s ex-girlfriend, Lori, standing ten feet away with her righthand minion, Jessie. Both girls are staring at us with their mouths wide open.

  “She so doesn’t deserve to rule,” Beth laments and pushes her tortoiseshell glasses back onto her nose. Beth is wearing an ankle-length strapless olive green dress that contrasts nicely with her brown skin. “She’s evil! What any guy sees in her, I have no idea. No offense, Austin.” Beth blushes.

  “None taken.” Austin smiles easily and turns his attention to his pal Rob Murray, who is Beth’s boyfriend. Austin seems oblivious to the crowd of people whispering about us. Larry the Liar, however, is still nowhere in sight. All is good.

  With Austin not paying attention, Allison whispers, “I hate the idea of Austin and Lori having to dance together when the court is introduced.” Her black cocktail tank dress shimmers in the low-lit disco lights.

  “Maybe we should cause a scene and spill cider on her dress,” Liz suggests.

  “Lizzie,” I warn. “The last thing I need is more drama.

  Don’t worry about it. The dance is tradition. I can deal. Tonight is all about Austin.” I don’t say it out loud, but I also want to enjoy a night off from any cattiness or girl fights.

  “Just look at her smiling and staring at your boyfriend,” Beth complains anyway. “It’s not fair. Girls like Lori always get what they want. And you want to know why? Because they don’t care what anyone thinks of them. They do whatever they have to do to stay on top and squash anyone who tries to stop them.” I can’t help but think of Alexis and then just as quickly I push her out of my mind. Across the room, I see Lori and her friends staring at us. I look away.

  “Liz is right,” Allison says, squinting her eyes at Lori. “Let’s dump cider on her!”

  “Everything okay?” Austin asks as he rejoins the conversation. We all jump.

  “Uh-huh,” we say at the same time, making us sound quite suspicious.

  “Good.” Austin grins. “Mind if I steal my girl away for a dance?” He takes me by the hand and swings me onto the dance floor. It’s a fast song so I try not to be self-conscious about all the people staring as I sway to the beat. I don’t worry long because soon Allison and her date, Tim Corder, Beth and Rob, and Liz and Josh have formed a small circle with us. The eight of us stay on the dance floor, in that very spot near the DJ booth, without anyone bothering us the entire night. It helps that Rodney is continually circling our group with his “I’m a big, bad personal security dude” face on. Not that h
e needs it — aside from people using their disposable cameras to take poorly lit pictures, there’s not a photographer in sight.

  “It’s time to introduce our Homecoming court and pick our Homecoming king and queen,” Principal P. finally announces into the microphone. The room roars with approval. “Would all of the court and the nominees please join me at the DJ booth?”

  Austin winks at me before walking over to Principal P. I see Lori push aside her fellow court members so she can stand on the other side of Austin. Ugh.

  Lori’s blond hair is long and curly. She’s wearing a dress I own in my closet — a slinky nude Marc Bouwer number that if it didn’t glitter would make her look like she’s naked. It would look fabulous if she could wipe that smug look off her face. Lori sees me staring and smirks confidently as she gives her lips a quick pucker. I do my best True You face and repeat to myself quietly, “I don’t care about Lori. It’s only one dance. Three minutes of my life.” But I’m having trouble believing myself when Lori tucks a stray blond hair behind her ear and grips Austin’s arm. Liz grabs my hands in support and Beth and Allison put their hands on my shoulders. I hold my breath.

  Principal P. begins announcing the court. We clap politely for the freshman and sophomore members and pretend to be talking to one another when Lori’s name is called. Out of the corner of my eye I can see her waving and bowing to her fans like a complete cheeseball. The group of us can’t help but giggle. Finally it’s Austin’s turn. He blushes violently as we all hoot and holler.

  After the king and queen are announced and share a ceremonial dance, I hear the words I’ve been dreading. “And now our court will take the floor for a spotlight dance,” Principal P. announces.

  We move back to make room for them and I watch somewhat anxiously as Austin leads Lori onto the dance floor. Lori smirks at me as she holds Austin’s hand and I dig my own into Liz’s. I smile politely even though it’s killing me. I am not going to let her get to me. Instead, I focus on Austin. When he sees me, he smiles brightly. Then he turns to Lori and whispers something in her ear. While Austin talks, Lori’s smile begins to fade. She turns and glares at me before stomping off.