My whole body deflates. Like a balloon someone is slowly letting the air out of. On Sunday, I’ll be that girl again. I feel like Cinderella at the ball, staring at that clock, knowing that when it strikes midnight, it will all be over. The magic will be gone.
The Ellas all look up to see what I’m shrieking at and Daniella lets out a groan. “I can’t believe people actually line up to see Ruby Rivera. She is so incredibly lame.”
“Totally,” Isabella chimes in. “She has no talent.”
“No talent,” Gabriella echoes, nodding way too enthusiastically.
I wait for one of them to quickly add “No offense,” but it never comes. Because why would it? They don’t know they’re actually insulting me to my face. Not that I care. I mean, I pretty much agree with them. Ruby Rivera is lame.
“I’m not sure why you even like her,” Daniella says, and it takes a moment for me to realize she’s talking to me.
Oh, yeah, I remember. Skylar is obsessed with Ruby Rivera.
“Well,” I begin, wondering how exactly I should proceed from here. “I mean, she’s not that bad, right?”
Daniella scrunches up her face like she’s just smelled bad fish. “She can’t sing. She can’t act. And she dresses like she’s eight. Carey Divine is way more talented than she is.”
“She is not!” I snap without thinking, and then quickly regret it. All three Ellas are staring at me like I just admitted I grow potatoes out of my ears. “I mean,” I say, trying to keep my voice casual, “don’t you think Carey Divine is a little fake?”
“Ruby Rivera is fake,” Daniella says.
“Y-y-yeah,” I stammer. “But maybe that’s just because she’s being controlled like a puppet. Maybe she’s not allowed to do anything she wants to do or wear anything she wants to wear. Maybe if she actually got to be herself, you’d like her!”
The Ellas all exchange nervous glances and I realize I need to change the subject ASAP. “Hey,” I say, standing up. “Let’s go to Sephora and I’ll show you some more makeup tricks.”
For a long time, I’m the only one standing. The Ellas are still sitting there, studying me warily. Then, thankfully, Daniella rises from her seat and tosses her empty cup into a nearby trash can.
“Cool,” she says nonchalantly. “I could use some new makeup. Let’s go.”
And just like that, the other two Ellas follow suit, as if the last two minutes never even happened.
“That was the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen!” Stacia says as she lets out a dramatic sigh.
“So romantic!” Gwen echoes.
I’m in my trailer with the extras from today’s shoot. I’m sitting on the couch in the living room, and each of them—Stacia, Gwen, Claire, Josie, and Jordan—are sitting facing me. Like I’m the queen of the court and they’re all just hanging on my next word. I’m not going to lie. It’s a pretty fantastic feeling.
“What did it feel like?” Claire asks.
“Amazing,” I gush, and they all giggle. “I mean, when his lips touched mine, I felt like my feet weren’t even on the ground.”
Sighs of jealousy spread through the group. I don’t tell them about the garlicky onion breath, because I don’t want to spoil their illusion. Plus, I can barely even remember that now. All I remember is the butterflies. I realize I’ve never been kissed before, so I’m not exactly an authority on the subject, but I think I can safely say that Ryder is the best kisser in the world.
Unfortunately, we only did one take. That was apparently part of Eva’s negotiation. As soon as Barry yelled “Cut!” and I came crashing back down to earth, I immediately prepared myself to do it again. But then Barry called out, “Perfect! Moving on!” And I felt myself wilt with disappointment.
“That is totally going to win for Most Romantic Moment at next year’s Tween Choice Awards,” vows Jordan.
“Speaking of which,” Gwen says, bouncing up and down on the leather recliner chair. “Isn’t this year’s awards tomorrow? Are you excited?”
“What are you going to wear?” Stacia asks.
I still can’t believe I’m going to get to go to an actual awards show. Dress up in a fancy gown, walk the red carpet, be interviewed by magazines!
“Carey Divine better not win Best Actress again,” Claire says.
I let out an involuntary snort. I just can’t help it. Especially after what Ruby told me in the prop room yesterday, about how they only pretend to be friends.
“What?” Josie asks, looking from me to the other girls with a curious eyebrow raised. “What was that about?”
I wave the question away. “Oh, nothing. Never mind.”
“No, tell us,” Stacia urges. “Please. Did you and Carey have a fight?”
I struggle not to roll my eyes. “No.”
“Then why did you react like that?” Jordan asks.
“Yeah,” Claire says. “Aren’t you guys like best friends?”
I bite my lip, wondering whether I should tell them what Ruby told me. I mean, why not? We’re all friends now. And they seem like really nice girls. Plus, I just can’t wait to see the looks on their faces when I drop this gold nugget of gossip.
“Well, actually,” I begin, glancing around the room, like I’m checking for hidden cameras.
As if on cue, all five of them lean forward, their eyes wide with anticipation.
I lean forward, too, looking into each of their eyes before whispering, “Can you guys keep a secret?”
“See!” I say, stepping back from Daniella and tilting my head to admire my work. “You can use a light shade of lip gloss to create a really cool eye shadow look!”
Daniella reaches for the stand-up mirror on the makeup counter at Sephora and stares at her reflection. “I love it!” she exclaims. “It’s so shimmery!”
I smile. “Exactly.”
“That is so cool,” Isabella gushes.
“So cool,” Gabriella echoes.
Isabella turns back to Daniella. “Ethan is going to be so sorry he snubbed you when he sees you looking like that.”
I immediately perk up when I hear the name Ethan. Is Isabella talking about the same Ethan? The one who helped me with my locker this morning? The one who clearly has a crush on Skylar?
Daniella’s expression sours. “He didn’t snub me, Isabella. I turned him down.”
Isabella’s face goes white as a sheet as she quickly tries to backpedal. “Totally. That’s what I meant. No offense!”
“Isabella,” Daniella says with a sigh. “You can’t say ‘no offense’ after you’ve offended someone. You have to say it before.”
I want to step in and argue that this logic makes no sense whatsoever, but I’m smart enough to keep my mouth shut and stay out of it.
“Sorry,” Isabella rushes to say.
“Ethan asked you to the dance?” I ask casually, pretending to be absorbed in an eye shadow palette display.
“Yes,” she whispers, like it’s a really big secret. “But I said no. The poor thing was devastated.”
“And now he’s going to fall all over himself when he sees you tomorrow night,” Isabella adds.
Daniella examines her reflection in the oval-shaped mirror again. “Well, that’s just mean, Isabella. The guy’s heart is already broken.”
Isabella seems to shrink in on herself, looking chastised. Meanwhile, my head is reeling with all this new information.
“So,” I begin, still trying to piece everything together. “You don’t like him?”
Daniella scrunches up her nose. “No way. Absolutely not.”
I feel a wave of relief. If Daniella liked Ethan, that could definitely make things complicated. Now Skylar is totally free to dance with Ethan tomorrow night. And by Skylar, obviously I mean me! I can’t wait to see the look on Ethan’s face when he sees me in my new dress.
It makes me giddy just thinking about it.
I’m so relieved not to be going to the stupid Tween Choice Awards. I hate walking that red carpet, answering the same lame questions from interviewers over and over.
“Who are you wearing tonight?”
“Can you tell us any secrets about the season finale?”
“When are you and Ryder Vance going to get together in real life?”
Just once, I would like to give the real answers to those stupid questions.
“I’m wearing whoever my mother told me to wear, because she treats me like a two-year-old and doesn’t trust me to pick out my own clothes.”
“No, I can’t tell you anything about the episode because my mother and I signed a confidentiality agreement and if I do, the Xoom! Channel will sue us for about a million dollars.”
“Ryder and I will get together in real life when the moon falls out of the sky and hits me on the head so hard that I forget what an obnoxious, self-centered, numb brain he is.”
But no. I have to smile politely and give the cheesy pre-scripted answers my mother writes out for me.
Not this time, though. This time that’s all Skylar. Instead, I’ll just be a normal girl dancing with a normal boy, having the time of her life.
“OMG,” Daniella says after she’s handed over a credit card to the woman at the counter and purchased the lip gloss. “I can’t wait for tomorrow night. You’re totally coming with us, right?”
It takes me a moment to come out of my reverie and realize that Daniella is talking to me.
“Me?” I ask, surprised. “You want me to go to the dance with you guys? Like, in the same car?”
Daniella chuckles. “Skylar, you’re soooo hilarious. Of course we want you to go with us. You’re like one of us now!”
I look between Gabriella and Isabella, who are both nodding enthusiastically. “Absolutely,” echoes Isabella.
I’m about to open my mouth to tell them Yes! Of course I’ll come with you! when a flash of suspicion makes me pause.
I mean, I know I said it would be easy to make friends in middle school, but was that too easy?
Suddenly, my warning radar is going off, telling me not to trust them. That there might be something else going on here.
But then I quickly push the thought away, chastising myself for being so skeptical and jaded. This isn’t the set of a hit TV show. These aren’t cutthroat child actresses trying to get their big break. These are just normal girls trying to be nice, welcoming me into their group. I need to seriously chill out.
This is exactly what I wanted. For me…and for Skylar.
“Okay,” I tell them with a confident nod. “Count me in.”
As we stride out of the Sephora, shoulder to shoulder, I feel lighter than I’ve felt in a long time. In one day, I’ve managed to completely transform Skylar’s life.
“Wait a minute,” I say, stopping and turning to each of my new friends. “Does this mean I have to change my name to Skyella?”
Then all three girls break into fits of laughter like this is the funniest thing they’ve ever heard.
And that’s a wrap! I’ve done it! I’ve finished filming the season finale of Ruby of the Lamp. It’s “in the can,” as they say in Hollywood. (I just learned that phrase today, by the way.)
After Barry called “Cut!” on the final take of the final scene, everyone exploded in applause. Cami, Gina, Sierra, Russ, Eva, the extras…even Barry joined in. I felt so overwhelmed by all the attention and praise, I didn’t know what to do. So I started bowing, the way an actor would at the end of a play. That made everyone laugh and clap harder. So I kept bowing and curtsying theatrically, until finally Ryder murmured out of the corner of his mouth, “Okay, show-off. I think that’s enough.”
Then I stopped.
As Eva drives us home from the set, I can’t help feeling elated and proud. Like I’ve accomplished something huge. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before. I mean, sure, I’ve accomplished things in my life—acing school projects, learning to cook the perfect steak, finally beating Leah at Frisbee golf. But this feels special. Important. Like I’m changing lives or something. And in a way, I am. When the fans of the show see that kiss, they’ll be forever altered. I know I am!
Eva must sense my giddiness, because she pats my leg affectionately and says, “You did wonderful today, baby.”
I grin back at her. “Thanks!”
“It’s so nice to see you having so much fun in your job.”
Eva’s comment makes me kind of angry. Why doesn’t Ruby have fun in her job? Why doesn’t she appreciate what she has? She’s so lucky to live this life. She completely takes it for granted.
“Mom,” I say hesitantly. I’m not sure I should say what I’m about to say, but I feel like I have to leave some part of me behind. I can’t leave this life on Sunday without telling Eva how I feel. She works so hard for Ruby. She puts so much effort into her career. She deserves to feel appreciated.
“Yeah?” Eva says, keeping her eyes on the road.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry if I’ve been acting a little…I don’t know…out of it lately.”
Eva glances at me quickly, confusion in her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I just mean, I do love my job. I do have fun. I’m sorry if I don’t always show it or say it. But I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me.”
When Eva looks at me again, I know I’ve said the right thing. There are tears shining in her eyes. “Oh, Ruby,” she says, beaming. “You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that. I know I can be hard on you sometimes, but it’s only because I care about you and your career.”
I place my hand atop hers on the gearshift. “I know.”
Eva takes a deep breath and focuses back on the road. The energy in the car feels so different than it did yesterday. I feel like I’ve fixed something. Realigned something that’s been out of sync for a long time. Ruby couldn’t stop complaining about her mother in that prop room, but her mother isn’t that bad. They just needed to talk to each other.
When we arrive home thirty minutes later, Eva collapses into one of the couches in the formal living room and sighs dramatically. “Wow. What a day! I am exhausted!” She reaches into her bag and pulls out what looks like another script from the show, except much thicker. The Ruby of the Lamp script I read this morning was only about thirty pages. This one looks to be at least a hundred.
“Ruby,” Eva says, kicking off her shoes and tossing the script on the coffee table. “Will you put this in my office?”
I nod and curiously pick up the script. On the cover page, blocking the title, is a pink Post-it note that says:
Ruby would be perfect for this!
—L
L? Who’s L? And what would Ruby be perfect for?
I lift up the Post-it note and read the title.
Mean Tween Drama Machine
By Darrel Davis
I glance back at Eva, who has her eyes closed and her legs stretched out on the couch. “What is this?”
She snorts. “What do you think? Another desperate producer trying to get you to star in their new movie.”
Ruby has actually never been in a real movie before. Last year she did that TV movie with Carey Divine, Lemonade Stand-Off, but never like a movie-theater film. For a while there were rumors that they were going to do a Ruby of the Lamp movie, but they died out about a year ago.
“Have you read it?” I ask, eagerly flipping through the first few pages.
Eva’s eyes stay closed as she responds with a sigh. “It’s garbage. Just like the rest of them.”
My eyes nearly bug out of my head. The rest of them?
I try to keep my voice conversational. “So…um…like…how many?”
Eva opens one eye to s
tudy me. “What does it matter how many? None of them are good enough. Remember, you only get one shot at a movie career at this age. We can’t afford to blow it on some cheesy tween comedy. We’re holding out for something epic. A big-budget franchise or some massive young adult novel adaptation. That’s the stuff that really skyrockets your career.”
I peer down at the script in my hand again and reread the title. Mean Tween Drama Machine. That definitely does sound cheesy.
I nod. “Right. I guess that makes sense.”
“So will you put it in my office with the others?”
“Sure.” I clutch the script to my chest and wander down the hall until I find the one room I didn’t explore last night—because the door was shut and I could hear Eva talking on the phone inside. I open the door and am struck with the same startling reaction I had to the rest of this amazing house.
Eva’s office is gorgeous. With dark wood furniture, floor-to-ceiling windows, and built-in bookshelves that cover an entire wall. The shelves are filled with scripts from every single episode of Ruby of the Lamp, all the way back to season 1, and what looks like a collection of trophies. I approach the shelves to get a closer look, and that’s when I realize…
Oh my gosh!
These aren’t trophies. They’re awards. Every single award Ruby has ever won! There are Tween Choice Awards and Billboard Music Awards and platinum records in a frame. There’s even the Emmy Ruby of the Lamp won last year for Outstanding Children’s Program.
I knew Ruby had won a ton of awards, but seeing them all here in front of me is something else entirely.
I wander around the rest of the office until I locate a giant stack of scripts in the corner that literally comes up to my waist. Wow! There have to be at least a hundred scripts here! Are these really all movies that Ruby has been asked to star in? And she’s turned down every single one of them?
Better You Than Me Page 17
