Better You Than Me

by Jessica Brody

  “You just need to check what?” Barbie asks. “That you forgot to take off your pajamas?”

  The other two girls snicker like this is the funniest thing they’ve ever heard.

  “Seriously,” says the other blonde, who’s dressed nearly identical to the first. “Did I miss the email that it was wear-your-pajamas-to-school day?”

  The third one—a lonely brunette in a blond sandwich—giggles and adds, “Yeah, we clearly missed the email that said you should wear your pajamas to school.”

  All three of them crack up and I glance down at my outfit in confusion. Sure, it’s not as dressy as what the three of them are wearing, but they look like they’re going to a club, not to school. School is supposed to be casual and laid-back, isn’t it? “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” I ask.

  Barbie stops laughing and her expression turns serious. She takes a step toward me and bows her head, like she’s about to tell me a secret. “The boys are already talking about it.”

  I squint. “Talking about what I’m wearing?”

  She nods and gives me a pitying look. But I just shrug and brush it off. Whatever. I don’t know any of these people. I don’t care what they think. I’m comfortable. I’m happy. I turn on the faucet and start to wash my hands.

  Blond Barbie scowls. She does not seem happy that I’ve just turned my back on her. “Did you hear me?” she asks. “People are saying you live on the streets.”

  I can see her reflection in the mirror. She’s got her arms crossed and she’s pursing her lips like she’s waiting for me to cry or freak out or something.

  Geez, what is with this girl?

  It’s like she gets a kick out of being mean to people.

  And that’s when the realization hits me.

  “Oh! You’re the Ellas!” I say excitedly, like a sleuth solving a big mystery. “Skylar told me—” But I stop when I remember that I’m Skylar. Which means I’ve just lamely referred to myself in the third person. I clear my throat. “I mean, I’ve heard about you guys.”

  The three girls stare at me with slightly baffled expressions, like I’ve just beamed down from the mother ship. “What are you talking about?” the tall one says. She’s clearly the leader, because every time she speaks, the other two turn and watch her like she’s about to reveal the secrets of the universe.

  “Let me guess,” I say, ignoring her question. “You must be Daniella.”

  Her startled expression lets me know that I’m right. I turn to the next one, the other blonde. “And you are…” I rack my brain, trying to remember the three names Skylar gave me. “Ariella…Anabella…No! Isabella!”

  The girl I’ve just identified turns to Daniella as if to say What did I miss? But Daniella just goes on staring at me. I swing my finger to the last girl, the brunette. “Which makes you Gabriella!”

  I beam, feeling pretty proud of myself, especially when I take in their completely flabbergasted looks. Finally, Daniella seems to regain her composure. She gives her hair a toss. “Okaaaaay. Now if you’ll excuse us, we’re kind of busy here.”

  She pushes her way back to the sink, giving me a not-so-subtle shove as she passes. The other two girls follow, until I’m edged away from the mirror and practically hugging the paper-towel dispenser.

  Okay, I’m starting to understand why Skylar warned me about these girls. They clearly think they’re better than everyone else.

  I grab a paper towel—which is easy since I’m already hugging the dispenser—and wipe my hands, all the while trying to come up with a strategy. Skylar and I agreed we would help each other out. And these girls are obviously giving her trouble. She seemed really anxious when she talked about them. She told me to “be careful.” But I still don’t know why.

  Maybe Skylar just doesn’t know how to handle girls like this.

  I certainly do. I spent the last four years on the set of a hit TV show. Trust me, you don’t know mean girls until you’ve met Hollywood mean girls. I can definitely handle a couple of middle schoolers.

  And that’s when an idea comes to me.

  Didn’t Skylar say something about not having any friends? About not being able to talk to people? While I, on the other hand, have no trouble talking to anyone.

  And that’s exactly why I have to make friends for her!

  I’ll show her that middle school isn’t as hard as she thinks it is. Compared to Hollywood politics, befriending people like the Ellas is a piece of cake. You just have to find the right angle, speak the right language, know your audience.

  I take a step back and study the Ellas for a moment. The three of them are gathered around the mirror. Isabella and Gabriella are staring at Daniella, who’s holding a liquid eyeliner pen in one hand. “This is how you do it,” she’s saying. “Watch me.” She closes one eye and leans toward the mirror.

  And suddenly, I know exactly what to do. I know how to help Skylar out of her friendless rut.

  She is so lucky she has me.

  I’m so absorbed in the story of the season finale, I don’t even realize we’ve arrived at the studio until Eva parks the car. The script is awesome! The ending is awesome. The dialogue is awesome. There’s just one teensy problem.

  It’s filled with plot flaws and inconsistencies!

  For example, on page four, it says that Miles is going to visit his great-aunt Clarence this weekend. But Aunt Clarence died from a mysterious genie disease in season 2. And then on page seventeen, it says Ruby is going to the Jinn Academy library to research the genie named Balthazar, who was with her mother the night she disappeared. Which would be fine if in season 3, episode 5, they didn’t explicitly say that Ruby’s mom was with her old friend Jenika that night. I mean, seriously, do these people not keep notes somewhere?

  They really are lucky they have me. Ruby is lucky she has me. Otherwise she would say these lines and make a huge fool of herself in front of all her fans. I definitely need to tell someone about this.

  When we arrive at the studio lot, a tall, skinny guy guides me to the hair-and-makeup trailer while Eva runs off, saying something about going to talk to Barry again about the kiss scene.

  Just the mention of the word “kiss” makes my stomach clench. But I assure myself that it’ll be fine. Better than fine. It’ll be great! Because I’m not kissing Ryder as myself. I’m kissing him as Ruby! And Ruby is bound to be an amazing kisser. She’s amazing at everything! And most important, Ruby doesn’t hiccup when she’s nervous.

  Ruby’s phone rings as soon as I sit down in one of the makeup chairs. I pull it out and see that it’s a call from someone named Lesley. She called three times last night, but I decided it’s probably best that I not answer any of Ruby’s calls while I’m in her body. It just doesn’t feel right. (Text messages to members of Summer Crush are obviously exempt from this rule.) But honestly, I’m afraid I’ll say the wrong thing and mess up something big in her life. So I silence the call and place the phone back in my bag. Whatever it is, Ruby can deal with it on Sunday. I mean, what could possibly be so urgent it can’t wait a few days?

  An hour later, I’ve been completely transformed. My hair has been styled, my makeup has been expertly applied, and I’m back in that skirt/top/belt combination from yesterday. I now look like the Ruby I know from the show. Just seeing the change in the mirror makes me giddy. As I step out of the hair-and-makeup trailer, Eva snaps a photo of me and I give her my best Ruby Rivera pose.

  “Nice!” she commends as she taps away on her phone.

  “Look! It’s her! It’s Ruby Rivera!” comes a squeaky voice from behind me. I turn to see a group of five girls around my age, huddled close together, glancing my way and pointing.

  “She’s looking!” one of them says, and they all pretend they weren’t just staring at me.

  I feel a rush of excitement. My first fans! I remember how Ruby Rivera reacted
to me when I walked into the prop room. She looked terrified. Well, I’m not going to act like that. I push my shoulders back, paint on my best Ruby Rivera smile, and walk over to them. They grow very quiet as I approach.

  “Hi, guys!” I say brightly. “I’m Ruby.”

  One of them starts giggling nervously. “We know.”

  “Are you on a tour of the studio?” I ask.

  “We’re extras,” one of them replies. “For the diner scene.”

  “Oh, right!” I exclaim. “Extras! That’s awesome!”

  They seem a little confused by my excitement, so I try to take it down a notch. “I mean, that’s cool. What are your names?”

  “I’m Stacia,” says the first.

  “Gwen,” says the second.

  “Josie.”

  “Jordan.”

  “Claire.”

  I nod around the circle as each of them introduces herself. “Okay,” I say with an exaggerated sigh. “I’ll try to remember all that.”

  The five girls laugh like this is the funniest thing they’ve ever heard. I beam back at them. This is incredible! It’s just like being the head of the Ellas. Except better, because I could go anywhere in the world and get this reaction! Daniella is only powerful within the walls of Fairview Middle School. If she were to set foot in any other school, she’d be a nobody. But not me. Not Ruby. I’m somebody no matter where I go!

  “What’s it like being the star of your own show?” the one named Josie asks, and the other four immediately nod like this is the most important question to ever be asked.

  “It’s awesome,” I say. “Obviously.”

  They all laugh again. Having people laugh at you because they actually think you’re funny—not because you accidentally hiccupped/burped onstage and the most popular girls in school made a video of it that went viral—is the best feeling in the world.

  “And what’s Ryder like?” Gwen asks.

  “Dreamy,” I confirm, causing them all to swoon a little.

  “Is it true you’re going to kiss him today?” Jordan asks.

  I nod, raising my eyebrows a bit. “Yes. And I’m kind of nervous.”

  “Oh, don’t be!” Claire says. “You’ll be amazing. You always are.”

  I grin. “Thank you. That’s so sweet.”

  I could easily talk to these girls all day, but eventually that tall, skinny guy with the clipboard—Russ, I think—appears and says, “They’re waiting for you on set. Are you ready?”

  I give my little fan club a “What are you going to do?” shrug. “Sorry, guys. I guess I have to go.”

  “That’s okay!” Stacia says. “We understand.”

  “How about you all come and hang out in my trailer later?” I suggest, and then I watch all of their faces light up like I’ve just told them they’ve won the lottery.

  “That would be so cool!” says Claire.

  “We’re totally there!” chimes in Gwen.

  “Great!” I give them a thumbs-up and follow Russ toward the soundstage.

  Making friends as Ruby Rivera is the easiest thing in the world. Everyone just wants to hang out with you. Unlike when I’m Skylar and everyone acts like I have the plague.

  According to the call sheet, the first scene we’re shooting today is scene 5. It takes place in Chaz’s Diner—a local hangout for the Jinn Academy students. Ruby and Miles have just gotten home from their trip to the Sahara Desert to find Ruby’s mom, and their first stop is the diner because they’re both famished. That scene certainly won’t require any acting on my part. I am famished.

  As Russ and I walk, I quickly review the scene, trying to commit my dialogue to memory. Fortunately, I don’t say much in this scene. I just eat a big juicy cheeseburger and nod with my mouth full as Miles yammers on and on about how he has to visit Aunt Clarence next weekend and how Aunt Clarence is old and senile and always accidentally turns her cats into inanimate objects. Which reminds me…

  “So, Russ,” I say casually as we walk. “I love the scene we’re shooting. It’s really funny.”

  He smiles, but it looks fake. “Yes, it is.”

  “But I have a slight problem with one of the lines.”

  Russ stops walking so suddenly, I nearly slam into his back. He spins around and pushes his glasses up on his nose. “What?” He looks terrified. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing!” I say, sensing I’ve overstepped my bounds. “The whole thing is hilarious. It’s just that Miles mentions visiting Aunt Clarence, but Aunt Clarence died in the second season.”

  Russ stares blankly at me.

  “Remember?” I say, trying to jog his memory. “Miles had to go to Aunt Clarence’s funeral and he was going to miss the big holiday pageant? So then Ruby tried to clone him with an ancient cloning spell, but the clone ended up clucking like a chicken?”

  Russ is silent for a long time before he finally replies. “Well, maybe Aunt Clarence was brought back to life.”

  I squint at him like he’s lost his mind. “What? No, that’s impossible. Genies can’t bring people back from the dead. Remember, Ruby finds that out in season one, episode sixteen, when she accidentally killed Headmistress Mancha’s pet hamster and tried to resurrect it.” I snort out a laugh. “That was a funny one.”

  Russ stands very still. I know he’s thinking hard about something, but I have no idea what it is. And I can’t help but notice the look of panic in his eyes.

  “Don’t worry. It’s easy to fix. I’ll just tell Barry that—”

  “Please don’t tell Barry,” he rushes to say. “Just let it go.”

  I bite my lip, confused. “But the fans will notice.”

  “The fans won’t notice.”

  I fight not to roll my eyes and say I’m a fan, and I noticed instantly. “The real fans will.”

  Russ starts breathing heavily. He looks genuinely scared. “Look, just promise me you won’t tell Barry.”

  “Tell Barry what?” a booming voice says, startling us both. I know, before I turn around, that Barry is going to be standing there.

  And I’m right. He has his hand buried in a giant bag of potato chips, and there are crumbs around his mouth. He’s chewing languidly, like a cow.

  Russ turns a strange shade of red as he flounders for something to say. “Uh…um…nothing. Ruby was just—”

  “I was just saying”—I interrupt—“that I found some inconsistencies in the script that I thought you might want to know about.”

  Barry stops chewing. In fact, for a second, it almost looks like he’s choking. “Excuse me?”

  For a moment, I consider backing down. Maybe Russ is right. Maybe I shouldn’t say anything. But then I think about the promise I made to Ruby yesterday. I promised I wouldn’t let her down.

  I stand up straighter and flip to scene 5 in my script. “Right here,” I say, trying to ignore the death stare Barry is giving me and the weird squeaking noise Russ is making. I point to Miles’s line.

  “Great Aunt Clarence died in the second season. Miles went to her funeral.”

  I watch with my heart in my throat as Barry’s narrowed eyes scan the open page. He looks from me to the script. “You noticed this?” he asks.

  I nod, although I’m wondering if I should lie and pin the blame on someone else. Barry does not look happy right now.

  He crumples the now-empty potato-chip bag in his hand like he’s strangling the thing to death. Then, with a rough voice that makes me regret ever opening my mouth, he grabs me by the elbow and starts to guide me toward the soundstage. “Come with me.”

  Helplessly, I glance back at Russ just in time to see the “I told you so” look on his face.

  “Makeup, huh?” I say, balling up my paper towel and tossing it into the trash. “I know a lot about makeup.”

  The Ellas don’t respond,
but I swear I catch an eye roll from Daniella in the mirror.

  I ignore it. “Maybe I could help you.”

  Daniella scoffs at this, which causes the other two to chuckle, too. Like I’ve made some big joke. “Yeah,” Daniella sneers. “Like you could help us with makeup.” Then she turns her attention back to the mirror, closing one eye and priming her eyeliner pen.

  “You’re doing it wrong,” I say flatly.

  Danielle looks put out. “What are you still doing here?”

  “You’re trying to do cat eye, right?” I ask.

  Daniella doesn’t respond, but I catch the most imperceptible nod from Gabriella, the shy brunette.

  I squeeze between them and pluck the eyeliner pen right out of Daniella’s hand. “You need to apply the mascara first.” I search the mess on the counter until I find a tube of mascara. I brush it onto my upper eyelashes. “It’s a common mistake,” I tell them. “So don’t feel bad. You see, if you apply the mascara first, it gives you a nice little flick in the corner. Then you use that as an arrow to guide the liner.” I close my right eye and run the eyeliner pen in a smooth line from the top of my lid, up the side, creating the perfect cat-eye swoop.

  I turn and show Daniella, closing and opening my eye. “See?”

  She looks shocked. “How did you learn that?”

  I smile. “From Cami, my makeup artist.”

  “What?” Isabella asks.

  I immediately catch my mistake. “Uh…I mean, my makeup artist friend. She works in Hollywood. She teaches me all sorts of tricks.”

  “Like what?” Gabriella asks. She seems to bubble with excitement until a stern look from Daniella causes her to shrivel.

  “Like what?” Daniella asks with an impatient sigh.

  I fight back the grin that’s threatening to give me away.

  It’s working!

  “Well,” I say, clearing my throat as I scan the makeup items on the counter. I find blush and a bottle of foundation and pick them up. “Here’s a cool trick. If you put the blush on before the foundation, it makes your cheeks look like they’re glowing from the inside. It’s much more natural. And no risk of that whole pink-cheeked clown look.”