Star Crossed

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Star Crossed Page 3

by Bonnie Hearn Hill


  “People,” I said. “Kids always like reading about other kids.”

  “We’ve got to do better than that.”

  Chili and I exchanged glances.

  “Sol, are you worried?” Chili asked. “Is it because the newspaper won all of those awards when Geneva was editor? Is the pressure on for you to come up with something extra outstanding?”

  Go for it, Air sign. Speak first, think later.

  “Well, sure, that’s part of it. But I’d also like to produce a newspaper that isn’t cookie-cutter high school, you know? Too bad we couldn’t have kept your astrology column, Logan.” He gave me that look again.

  “Snider made it pretty clear that she doesn’t want to reinstate it.”

  “I know that, but maybe we can come up with another column for you. After working with Henry Jaffa, you deserve it.”

  I didn’t want Sol’s column, and I definitely didn’t want to owe him any favors. “I’m going to be pretty busy with CRUSH,” I said.

  “She might get a column there,” Chili said.

  “What kind of column?”

  I shot her a look, but all I got in return was that Gemini little-kid shrug.

  “Well, I’m not really sure exactly.”

  “That’s it.” Chili said. “That’s what she needs to write about, Sol, her internship, all of the famous people she’s going to meet at the magazine, all the parties.” She flashed him a confident smile. “She’s good friends with Henry Jaffa. He calls her at home. And she even knows Arianna Woods, kind of.”

  “You know Arianna?” Sol asked.

  “No, I don’t. I’ve studied her sign a little. That’s all Chili meant. She is going to be on the first CRUSH cover.”

  “What sign is she? And is she really as clueless as she pretends to be?” Great. Now he thought I was the gossip queen of Terra Bella Beach.

  “I have no idea.” As much as I needed to diffuse this conversation, I still wanted him to know that I wasn’t some phony. “She is a Gemini, a Mutable Air sign. Flexible communicator, okay?”

  “What’s her Moon?” Chili chimed in. True to the information-junkie aspect of her sign, she would soon be discussing Arianna’s Mars and Venus.

  “Aries.”

  “What does that mean?” he asked. “My dad’s an Aries. What are you?”

  No mistaking it. Sol was into me. And he was cute and nice. But he was not Jeremy, not even close. I ignored the question.

  “An Aries Sun like your dad’s is different from an Aries Moon,” I told him. “And Arianna already has a Gemini Sun. Either way, it means fire and drive. The combination could make her even more out there than she already is.”

  “What do you think is going to happen to her?” he asked. “Is she totally over?”

  “I might be able to figure it out with the ephemeris.” Okay, I was showing off a little but I couldn’t help myself. “That’s what I’m going to do in order to get the column with CRUSH, try to figure out what issues she might have.”

  “The ephemeris is a way of forecasting,” Chili told Sol before he could ask. “Logan can access it on her computer.” She grinned at me as if to say: Please just like this guy, will you?

  I shook my head. “I said I was going to try to figure it out. I didn’t say I could do it.”

  “Can you forecast anything for Cancer?” he asked.

  “Maybe.” I reached for my phone, took it out, and hid it inside my binder.

  A few taps on the keypad and I was online. A few more, and the ephemeris came up. Chili scrambled into the chair beside me. I held the phone lower and motioned to Sol. “Check it out.”

  He slid his seat even closer to me. “What do all of those numbers and symbols mean?”

  “The symbols at the top are called glyphs. Look, that’s Sun, Moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars. The days are listed on the side.”

  Chili beamed at him. “Didn’t I tell you she was smart?”

  So that was it. Chili had said something to get Sol interested in me. How humiliating.

  He nodded and moved closer to me. I pushed back my chair.

  “What are you doing over here?” Snider’s voice was Capricorn cold. How long had she been watching us?

  “We’re just discussing story ideas.” I pulled the phone closer to me.

  “I warned you, Logan,” she said, looking at my phone. “How could you bring this stuff into my classroom?”

  “I was just explaining something to Sol and Chili,” I said. “I didn’t mean to bring anything in here.”

  “She’s going to work with Arianna Woods,” Sol said. “We were just trying to find out what was going to happen next with her.”

  “On that?” Snider glared at my phone.

  “Yes,” I said, unable to lie about the obvious. “I’m ...”

  “Turn it off.”

  “That’s what I’m doing.” I reached to press the screen into darkness, and then I got a good look at the ephemeris. The prediction for Arianna Woods. The Aries Moon was squaring Scorpio.

  “Why is this taking so long?” Snider demanded. “What are you looking at, Logan?”

  “Nothing,” I said. But still I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. The Aries Moon would square Scorpio in Mercury, another Fixed sign, for two-and-one-half days at the end of October. I tried to remember what I had read in Fearless about Fixed squares. Secrets. In tense conflict. Frequently spells disaster.

  “What is it?” Snider asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. “I’m sorry.” My voice was trembling, because if what I saw was correct, Arianna Woods might actually be in danger.

  NOTES TO SELF

  So, this Aquarius is trying to save the world again, but I can’t help it. I’m a Fixed sign too, which makes me even more determined to find out the truth. Besides, maybe saving Arianna will keep me from obsessing about Jeremy.

  Snider made me stay after class and reminded me—as if I need a reminder—that she could make my internship disappear as easily as she made it happen. Sol, of course, had tried to take the blame, which only made me feel worse. When I confronted Chili later, she denied trying to set me up with him, her lie as blatant as her grin.

  A Snider assignment tonight, make that a punishment. I’m supposed to write a first-person account of how it feels to be back here after Monterey. It’s not even for the paper, just one of those finding-your-voice exercises she likes so much. “Define home,” she said. I’ll try to give her what she wants. But here’s what I really have to do. Find out everything I can about Arianna Woods, and not just to get the column now. I need to try to stop whatever “intense conflict,” maybe even disaster, that is heading her way. And I have to do it fast.

  BEACH TOWN

  By Logan McRae

  Terra Bella Beach is like any other small town, except that it backs up next to the ocean. Somehow its lack of sophistication makes it cooler, more relaxed. Younger. Not that there aren’t a lot of older people here, because there are, but they are different old. Take Manny, the retired dairy farmer, who runs the ice cream shop on the pier. Or Joyce, the seventy-something lady who wears glitter in her dyed red hair. She says she was once on Broadway. Now, as she walks along the beach with her cane, she serenades anyone within hearing distance with her rendition of “Hello, Dolly!” and “What a Wonderful World.” Going to school here means learning the language of the beach. Our favorite words are “hella” and “dude,” and we use them so often that I bet we’ll wear them out before another year passes. The language is part of being in the beach town club, though. It keeps us connected, most of the time, at least. Here’s a quick guide.

  • Freakin‘ “That’s freakin’ disgusting.”

  • Ridiculous “That’s absolutely ridiculous.” Or ri-dic, if the goal is to convey even more sarcasm.

  • Hella “He’s hella hot!” Hella’s an adjective that makes any noun or adjective sound better.

  • Like “It’s like, something we do all the time.” My dad says they used this word in
his day, so maybe it’s one of those terms like “cool,” that like never gets old.

  • Dude “Dude, what the hell is going on!?”

  So much for the language. Except for some personal issues, I’m glad to be back here. The place has a rhythm to it, a sound that is partially the tide crashing in and rolling out, and partially the cries of the gulls. It looks, smells, and sounds like home. I am glad it’s my home.

  How dishonest is this? But at least I didn’t mention anything about astrology.

  4

  IN YOUR EFFORTS TO IMPRESS OR ACHIEVE, REMEMBER

  THAT SOME SIGNS ARE NATURAL SHOW-STEALERS. THE

  FIRE SIGNS OF ARIES, LEO, AND SAGITTARIUS BREAK

  THROUGH ANY DOOR, EACH IN A DIFFERENT WAY.

  EARTH SIGNS, TAURUS, VIRGO, AND CAPRICORN, GET

  THERE IN SURE, MEASURED STEPS. GEMINI, LIBRA,

  AND AQUARIUS, THE AIR SIGNS, TALK THEIR WAY TO

  SUCCESS. EMOTIONAL CANCER, SCORPIO, AND PISCES,

  THE WATER SIGNS, ARE SOMETIMES OVERSHADOWED

  BY MORE ASSERTIVE COMPETITION. THEY WILL REACH

  THEIR GOALS ONCE THEY REALIZE THAT THEY MUST GO

  AFTER THE PRIZE AND NOT WAIT FOR THE PRIZE TO

  COME TO THEM.

  —Fearless Astrology

  Well had certainly tried to talk myway out of Snider’s wrath, but I had been too disturbed by what the ephemeris appeared to be revealing. For the rest of the week, I researched Arianna Woods in every spare moment—early days with the band Mellick, leaving the group, trashy photos of her that had shown up on the Internet, the cancellation of a film role, and her new release—the same song that Chili played nonstop in her car.

  It didn’t take high-tech research to find out that Arianna had briefly dated Cory Scott, and after him, Josh Mellick, the bass man in their band back then. The tabloids had kept track. She had left both guys to pursue the solo career that had at first peaked, and then delivered her to the cover of CRUSH for what, I realized, might be her last chance. How did one earn a last chance at age twenty-one?

  On Friday, I returned to San Francisco. As Stacy had told me, the job wasn’t glamorous, but after the summer workshop with Jaffa, I already knew how to work. I made phone calls, faxed and e-mailed press releases, and even did a coffee run for the editorial meeting that afternoon.

  Stacy looked up from her desk and surveyed the assortment of coffees I presented to her. Today she was dressed entirely in peach with her dark hair still pulled straight back. Her nails matched her lips. Her lips matched the scarf wrapped around her pale shoulders. She had a mean beauty. Not that she was a mean person. I hadn’t figured that out yet. She was just one of those rare women who was even more attractive when she wasn’t smiling. Maybe that’s why she did so little of it.

  If the room were a stage in a theater, she would have been in the center of it, lit by the spotlight. The girl must be a Leo or maybe an Aries. There had to be Fire in her sign.

  “I wanted mine without whip,” she said.

  “The art director’s is the one with whip.” I handed her the other cup. “This is yours.”

  “Thanks.” She stood to let me know it was time for me to leave.

  “Would it be all right if I stayed for the staff meeting?” I asked. “Since I’m here anyway.”

  “Sure, if you want to.” I could almost see her thinking what Henry Jaffa would say if she denied me. “Yes, of course. I should have suggested it. It’s just that ...”

  “What?” I asked.

  “I was a little disappointed about your reaction to Arianna Woods as our first cover model.”

  “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Actually, you didn’t say anything, but you made it clear what you thought.”

  “I like her music,” I kind-of lied. “I really do.”

  “Then why wouldn’t you be thrilled that she’s going to be on our cover?”

  “Have you ever checked out her blog on the YUTalk?” I asked. “All that ride-the-death-train stuff? And the guys?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “See for yourself.” I felt like a total jerk. Here I was treating Arianna like an enemy, and I didn’t even know her.

  Stacy began clicking on her keyboard. “Why didn’t anyone tell me about this?”

  “Maybe it’s okay, but it just seemed ...”

  “It certainly isn’t okay. We have to change it right now.” She picked up her phone. “Danielle, did you check out Arianna’s presence on the Internet? You did? Then why the hell didn’t you tell me about her YUTalk page? What? Well, why don’t you go take a look, and then we can discuss it. I’ve got an e-mail to write.”

  She hung up, without saying good-bye, then hammered on her keyboard. I could only imagine what message Arianna’s team was going to receive, and how she would react.

  “Thanks for alerting me to this.” Stacy gave me a straight-lipped smile. “I’m sorry I misjudged your attitude, and I think Henry was right about our working well together, after all.”

  I loved the working well together part but wasn’t too excited about the after all.

  “I’d like that,” I said.

  “And of course you can stay for the meeting. Our spring issue of CRUSH will feature Beaches We Love. I know you’re from a beach town, so feel free to chime in.”

  What a difference, and just because I had told her what any of her staff members could have. Which made me wonder why they hadn’t. Wasn’t such a simple task something her assistant could handle? How difficult was it to do a Web search on the cover celebrity, especially one as troubled as this one was supposed to be?

  The others entered the room and picked up their coffee cups. It wasn’t a huge meeting, just Mary Elizabeth and Bobby, the fashion and art directors, Stacy’s assistant Danielle, a good-looking guy in charge of sales, and a couple of associate editors.

  Mary Elizabeth dressed like a grown-up version of Paige. Today her blond bob was completely hidden by a bright orange paisley scarf. With that mane, she had to be a Leo, or maybe a fiery Aries or Sadge.

  Bobby, the overweight art director, was wearing a Hawaiian print shirt. In spite of his thick glasses, he had soulful blue eyes, magnified by the lenses, of course. Earth sign was my first guess, and then I thought of Jeremy. Where was my Taurus, and why hadn’t he answered my text?

  We all gathered around Stacy’s office. Through the bay window, I could see a thin tangle of cable car wires and the gray-and-glass wash of the building across the street.

  Bobby balanced his coffee on his Hawaiian-print stomach and settled back in the chair.

  “How many beaches will we be covering?” He seemed eager to disagree with the answer, even before he heard it. I wondered if it was because Stacy was so young. In fact, except for Danielle and me, she was the youngest person in the room.

  “Eight, maybe ten. We’ll use lots of graphics and bullet points about what makes each one different. Maybe some teen stars modeling the suits.”

  “Everyone does that,” he said, and the coffee cup sloshed in his hand. “We need something to make it stand out as more than just another glorified swimsuit ad. My people can do only so much. We need content.”

  “Why not use real teens as models?” My voice sounded high-pitched and uncertain. Everyone turned to stare at me. I reminded myself that Stacy had told me that I could chime in.

  “Too difficult to coordinate,” the art guy said.

  “I’m not so sure about that,” Mary Elizabeth replied. “It’s fresh, and our readers might go for it, especially if we say we’re making it an annual feature.”

  “We could pose one girl from each school with a male celebrity,” Stacy piped up. “Hot guys, real teen girls. What else do we need?”

  As if it was her idea. She glanced at me again as if expecting me to verify that.

  “Large and small schools,” I said. “Terra Bella Beach would be a great place.”

  Danielle, Stacy’s assistant, glared back
at me through her dark-rimmed glasses. She was constantly working, and this was the longest time since I’d arrived that I had seen her sit still. “I don’t think so,” she said. “We need something with more style and class.”

  My Gram Janie had told me more than once that people who used the word, “class,” sorely lacked it.

  “Malibu, Laguna, and San Diego have been done hundreds of times,” I said. “Terra Beach isn’t what the tourists see, but it’s the essence of what living on the California coast is really like. At least take a look at it.”

  “You are so right.” Stacy actually smiled at me, a real smile this time with teeth and everything. “As I’ve been saying all along, no one thinks of those cute little towns when they think of California. Let’s use Terra Bella Beach as one of our locations.”

  For the first time since she had chosen me for this internship, I believed she might be starting to see me as more than Henry Jaffa’s pet.

  “It might work.” Bobby absently wiped at a coffee stain on his shirt. “We could have some fun with it.”

  “Little-known beaches.” Danielle tossed back her blond hair. “It has great potential, Stace. It really does.”

  So the world of publishing wasn’t all that different from the world of high school, I realized. Everyone debated, and then, when the person on top expressed an opinion, the rest of the crew pretended that they had felt that way all along.

  As everyone at the meeting continued to congratulate Stacy for coming up with my idea, I crept out of the room. If anyone asked, I would just say I had taken an early lunch. At the elevator, I took a deep breath. Just get a grip, as my Gram would say. So Stacy had stolen my idea. No big deal. If she liked it enough to claim it as her own, maybe she would like me enough to give me the columnist job.

  The doors opened, and a blond train wreck stepped out. Her black sparkly top ended at her midriff. The white low-cut jeans were trying hard to show off her assets, but they couldn’t make up for the feeling of weary apathy that seemed as much a part of her as the trademark navy-blue eyes. Those eyes stared right through me, that unblinking paparazzi hate expression I’d seen in so many shots of her.

 

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