Making It, #2

by Christina Ross

  “We do,” Pepper said. “It’s because it makes them feel important to be friends with a celebrity.”

  “I think I hate that the most,” Lexi said.

  “You should,” Pepper said. “But what I can tell you from my own experience is that for the most part, your oldest friends will always love you for you. Yes, jealousy will touch some of them, and that sucks. But if you’re lucky, a handful of them won’t care about your fame—and those are the people you need to keep very close to you because those are the people who truly love you for you. But when it comes to finding new friends after fame strikes? That’s what you need to be most worried about, Lexi, because that’s where you are going to find your greatest disappointments. Unfortunately, from what you’ve told me, you’ve already experienced that.”

  “I have,” Lexi said. “And you’re right, Pepper, it isn’t easy. In fact, if anything, after the first season of the show alone, I have felt more hurt, frustration, and disappointment in my life than I ever had before.”

  “Well, look at us, Lexi,” Pepper said. “You and me—of all people—actually having a meeting of the minds . . .”

  Lexi just shrugged at her. “Maybe we are.”

  “If we are—and if you and I are ever going to understand one another—I need you to hear me out right now. Are you willing to do that?”

  “Pepper, after everything we’ve just shared with one another, of course I’ll listen to you,” Lexi said.

  “I appreciate that.”

  For a moment, Pepper paused to take in a deep, calming breath before she spoke again. And when she did so, my heart went out to her, because I knew that Pepper was about to share parts of her life that she never, ever wanted to share with anyone—especially while she was on camera. She was a private, wounded person. But for whatever reason, she was going all in with Lexi, the process of which had left me so transfixed, it was only at that moment I realized that Hunter’s thumb was discreetly stroking the back of my hand . . .

  “You’ve been famous for a year,” Pepper said to Lexi. “Is that right?”

  “About that, yes . . .”

  “Then what I need you to imagine is living with fame for most of your life, as I have. I’ve been dealing with this bullshit since grade school. Yes, I’m financially privileged, for which I’m grateful. But all of it has come at a cost, because at this stage in my life? Too many people see me as a young woman of undeserved privilege. Instead of people seeing me as a human being with feelings, I’m generally only ever seen as someone who’s won life’s lottery. A lot of people hate me for that. Others have tried to befriend me for that—you know, for the very reasons some people are now trying to befriend you. But after being either bullied or stung by so many people over the years, I’m at the point where I rarely allow anyone into my life. I’ve had to close myself off to potential friends because I just can’t trust people anymore. Is that a life to be celebrated? No, it isn’t, but those are the cards I’ve been dealt, so I have no choice but to deal with them. I’m almost fifteen years old, for God’s sake, and I have practically no friends. I often feel isolated, lonely, and alone. To fight back, I spend most of my life in my bedroom doing my YouTube videos because they not only give me something I enjoy doing, but because they also give me something I can call my own. After all these years, people have their opinions when it comes to me, but if they saw my life for what it really is? I think that most of them would come to the conclusion that a lot of it sucks.”

  “Jesus . . .” I whispered to Hunter.

  “Right?” he said in a low voice.

  “Pepper, I’m sorry,” Lexi said with resignation in her voice. “You come on so strong and so confident, I never would have believed in a million years that this was your life. In fact, if I hadn’t just seen it on your face and heard it in your voice for myself, there’s no way I would have believed any of it.”

  “Lexi, I’m not looking for a pity party here,” Pepper said. “But after what went down between us today—which was ugly on both sides—I decided a moment ago that it probably was best if you saw me for who I really am, and not for the person you’ve perceived me to be.”

  “You know what, Pepper? My grandmother once said something to me that I think is true when it comes to us.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Before she died a few years ago, she knew that I wasn’t having an easy time of it in school. I mean, she knew I was bullied, as you were. And she hated that for me, even though there was nothing she could do about it other than to love me as hard as she could, which she did in ways that no one in my life ever has. So, she shared this with me, which kind of pertains to us . . .”

  “What did she say to you?” Pepper asked.

  “What my grandmother said is that sometimes, when two people hate each other as much as you and I have hated each other from the start, it’s because we share too many things in common. We hate each other because we see too much of ourselves in each other—especially the parts we secretly loathe about ourselves. You and I are a lot alike. We’re ambitious. We want to break out and be successful without anyone’s help. Our conversation tonight has revealed that we both come from a place of neglect. I haven’t told you my own story when it comes to how my parents ‘raised’ me, but I will when we turn out the lights and go to bed tonight, because a lot of what you’ve experienced with your parents is pretty much what I’ve experienced with my own—all of which has shaped me into the person I am today. Their neglect of me is something I’m still struggling with. I’m just as angry and as hurt as you are for reasons I never knew we had in common.”

  “What are you saying, Lexi?” Pepper asked.

  “That I think we got it all wrong when it comes to us, Pepper.”

  “And how is that?”

  “Pepper, I never knew anything substantial or real about you until tonight, but in the wake of all that you just shared with me? My God, you and I are so much alike, it’s kind of scary. I think we clashed because we share too much in common. After hearing your story and knowing my own, I have to ask myself what the hell have we been doing to one another? Could it be that we could have been friends all along? I don’t know, but I’m feeling that because we’ve shared a lot of the same bullshit when it comes to our parents, maybe we could have been. And maybe we should start thinking about it now . . .”

  “Are you and I about to become friends?” Pepper asked incredulously.

  “I don’t know,” Lexi said. “Maybe—or maybe not. I mean, after we talk alone tonight, who knows what we’ll learn about one another—and on what levels we’ll connect . . .”

  “But if you and I somehow become friends, what does that do to the show?” Pepper asked. “It’s called The Terrible Teens for a reason. All of us are expected to be terrible to one another . . .”

  “Do you like every girl on this show?”

  Pepper snorted when Lexi asked her that.

  “Girl, I don’t like anyone on this show—unless you and I weirdly decide to come to terms with each other tonight because we share some pretty awful things in common. But that’s still to be decided, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” Lexi said. “But I have to say this to you, Pepper. I’ve listened to your story—you’re about to hear mine when we go to bed—so in ways I never saw coming, especially after today? I’m kind of hoping we will become friends, if only because I believe we’re more alike than we ever knew.”

  In the silence that stretched between them, all I could do was turn to Hunter in an effort to make sense of this moment. But when I did so? When I looked into his eyes? Yes, I saw that he was as perplexed and incredulous as I was that all of this had just transpired between Pepper and Lexi, but what I couldn’t miss in his eyes was his undeniable love for me. It was real. It was palpable. His thumb was still stroking the back of my hand.

  And God, if it didn’t make me feel electric.

  “Lexi,” Pepper said.

  Both Hunter and I turned to them.

 
“When you first came to me tonight, I didn’t know what you wanted to say to me—but I have to say that in the end? I’m grateful for it. Thank you for apologizing to me, for listening to me, for telling me part of your own story, and for delivering us to where we are now. Once we’ve turned in for the night—and when the cameras are off us—I hope we can continue to share our stories with one another. And after that? Each of us will decide which way we want to go when it comes to us. If we decide that we want to trust each other and become friends? Great. But, let’s get real here—we still have this show to consider. If we don’t have sparks flying between us, then the show is going to die a slow death, which neither of us can have.”

  “I agree,” Lexi said. “Heat, rage, and shade equal ratings gold. So, what if you and I decide to become an unexpected team, Pepper? Because if you think for one moment that I like every girl on this show? Oh, sweetie, you are so mistaken. I mean, most of these girls annoy the hell out of me. So, if we do decide to become friends after tonight, consider this. In the middle of the second season, we could create an unexpected twist—an alliance!—that would pit us against the other girls. I mean, if you and I of all people did that midseason? It would set this show on fire, and I’m pretty sure you know that I’m right, because, you know, massive twist and all . . .”

  “Well, shit,” Pepper said with a laugh. “Maybe we are kindred spirits . . .”

  “And who would have thought it?” Lexi said with a wink.

  “Your grandmother,” Pepper said. “Obviously, that woman would have understood us.”

  “My grandmother would have championed us,” Lexi said. “Because she just got it when it came to life, Pepper. She always did. I think you would have loved her, because there was no bullshit when it came to her.”

  “How about if we go upstairs so you can tell me the rest of your story?” Pepper asked. “Because I mean it when I say that I’m curious about how we intersect, and I do want to know how you’ve gotten to where you are today.”

  “Let’s do it,” Lexi said. “But first, if only because I feel terrible about what I did to your mother today, can I give you a hug?”

  “Can you even handle a hug from me—of all people—after the way I bit your ass today with hundreds of earwigs?”

  “I can handle it,” Lexi said. “And after all we’ve been through in only a month’s time, Pepper? I think I might even need that hug from you.”

  “I’ll be gentle,” Pepper said as she stepped toward Lexi with open arms. But Lexi shook her head in dismissal and pulled Pepper fiercely toward her, and in the moment they embraced? I knew that a friendship no one ever could have seen coming had just been born.

  And it was an amazing thing to behold.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  THE NEXT DAY, I HADN’T heard from Hunter, which practically killed me, because I knew why I hadn’t heard from him.

  He likely was reading the script Fox had sent him, which made me so sick with worry that I was about to lose him to a new life in Hollywood, I decided to call my best friend, Sienna Jones, to see if she could come over to my apartment for an afternoon of comfort, and advice.

  “When do you need me there?” she asked the moment I called her.

  “Do you and Austin have anything planned for today?” I asked. “Because I don’t want to get in the way of it if you do.”

  “After hearing you like this—we have no plans, Julia. So? How about if I come over right now?”

  “So, you do have plans . . .”

  “I’m sorry,” she singsonged. “But I never said that . . .”

  “You’re the best, Sienna.”

  “That’s funny . . .” she said.

  “What’s funny?”

  “It’s something I often say about you. Look, sweetie, what I think you need right now is your best friend to spend some time with you for a few hours, OK? You know, so we can talk. Let me pull myself together, and I’ll be there as soon as traffic allows.”

  An hour later, when Sienna arrived at my apartment, I thought she looked as fresh-faced as she did beautiful. Because it was so warm out, she was wearing a chic pair of navy-blue shorts that showed off her stunning legs, and a cute white tank top that accentuated her considerable rack. Her gleaming, long dark hair was pulled tightly away from her face in a high ponytail, a Dior handbag was slung over her shoulder, and large, dark sunglasses, which she took off the moment she stepped into my foyer, covered her eyes.

  “Did anyone recognize you on your way here?” I asked.

  “Not at all.” She winked at me. “Because Austin drove me. Now, would you care for a hug? Because after hearing your voice earlier and seeing you so upset right now? I know you need one.”

  “God, I love you.”

  “And I love you,” she said as she moved toward me. “Now, give me a hug.”

  I melted into her. We’d been best friends for so long, I couldn’t even remember how long. But throughout the years, we’d gone through a lot together in our efforts to make it in this city.

  “Living room?” she asked after I shut and locked the door behind her.

  “That would be perfect.”

  “Too early for martinis?”

  “Well, I mean, somewhere in the world they have to be drinking them, right? You know, like probably in Paris or something . . .”

  “And just look at us using our collective imaginations to justify having martinis at two in the afternoon,” she said. “And you know? Glancing through your living room windows right now? It’s a clear day, and I can almost see the Eiffel Tower from here. Now, go and sit down. I’ll mix us a couple of drinks, we’ll have a talk, and together, we’ll figure out all kinds of shit when it comes to you and Hunter.”

  “Done,” I said.

  “Give me five minutes. Vodka’s in the freezer?”

  “Where else would it be?”

  “I don’t know? I mean, considering the state you’re in right now? Maybe under your pillow?”

  “Oh, that’s hilarious . . .”

  “It was meant to be, but you still haven’t answered my question. Could it be that you’ve stashed it in your bedside table drawer? You know, for quick access since you’re clearly under duress?”

  “Actually, not a bad idea . . .”

  “Or given your emotional state, there’s also the frightful chance there’s no vodka even left in your apartment. I mean, it might be fermenting in your liver as we speak! So, tell me—should I go out and buy us a bottle? Because we need a bottle, honey. I already can see on your face that we do.”

  “What would I do without you?” I asked her.

  Her face became serious when I said that.

  “I’ve asked myself the same question when it comes to you—especially after the hell that was last year. Julia, you had my back the entire way, just as I will have your back now. When we sit down to talk, I promise you, no more jokes. I know you’re under a lot of pressure, and what I hope you’ll always know is that humor can get us through almost anything. Months ago, you managed to get me to laugh through some of the darkest moments of my life when it came to Austin. Thankfully, those dark moments ended when we came to terms with our love for one another. Laughter is healing, it’s restorative, it’s important—and it matters. But so does listening to someone in need.”

  She smiled warmly at me when she said that, then she disappeared into the kitchen while I took to one of the two beige leather sofas that faced one another in my living room. They were separated by a wood-and-glass coffee table, on which sat a large Lalique Nemours bowl. That bowl was only there because I’d inherited it from my grandmother upon her death, and it was among my dearest of treasures—just like her diamond earrings.

  I listened to Sienna make cocktails in the kitchen, hearing liquid slamming against ice as I tried to collect my thoughts before we spoke. The last thing I wanted to be for Sienna was a blubbering wreck when we discussed my fears when it came to Hunter and me.

  “I am now officially coming in wi
th the cocktails,” Sienna called out.

  “Bring them this way ASAP!” I said, trying my best to keep the moment light, even if it was the last thing I felt.

  She handed me my martini and took the sofa opposite me, then we leaned forward, touched glasses, took a sip, and blew each other a kiss before we got into it.

  “Tell me everything,” she said. “I mean, as busy as we both are right now, it’s not as if we haven’t talked. I think I know most of it, but maybe I don’t. Before I came here today, I checked my calendar, and because I’ve had to do so many press junkets for the new film, I was kind of shocked to see that it’s been ten days since you and I last talked. I apologize for that. So, what’s happened? Why are you upset right now? What’s changed? The last time we talked, you sounded happy. And now you look miserable, worried, and undone. What’s going on with you?”

  “A lot,” I said.

  “Tell me,” she urged.

  I told her all of it.

  “Well, hell,” she said after she took a long pull from her drink. “All of that happened over the past week?”

  “It did.”

  “And Fox has sent him a script?”

  “He’s supposed to receive it today.”

  “And you haven’t heard from him yet?”

  “No. And because I haven’t, I don’t know whether he’s even received it yet. But if he has, he’s either reading it now, or he’s already read it, and he’s considering whether he wants to direct it.”

  “And if it’s good, you fear that he might choose to direct it?”

  “Exactly. His dream is to direct movies, and right now? Fox is literally handing him one on a silver plate.”

  “But what if the script is shit?”

  “Hunter is smart. If he thought it was salvageable, he’d ask for a rewrite in negotiations. But what if the script is good? Because if it is? I can tell you right now that he will leave his show and move to LA the moment the second season of the Teens is in the can. And if that happens? Because of my own commitments when it comes to my job at CAA? I won’t follow him to LA, because I owe it to myself to tend to my own career, which is finally taking flight. What sucks about all of this is that because of my contract with CAA, I have to stay in Manhattan under Harper’s eye despite the fact that yesterday, Hunter told me that he’s fallen in love with me.”