Cruel Summer

by Lisa Cardwell

  I read the address on the paper. “Bellagio Road?”

  I looked at the invitation again, then back at Trish.

  “Yeah, it’s not too far.”

  That, I knew from the printed directions. In good traffic, it was literally less than ten minutes away.

  “Should I really go to this?” I waved the copy of the email, feeling torn. My first Hollywood party, but I’d know absolutely no one. Then again, I wasn’t going to meet anyone hanging outside by Dad’s pool, either.

  See? I was totally making myself crazy with these arguments.

  “Why not? Why wouldn’t you go?”

  “Have you seen my closet?” I didn’t exactly sport the season’s hottest looks. Or last season’s, for that matter. I wasn’t exactly the type of girl who lived for fashion. If it was comfortable and I liked it, I wore it.

  “Is that all? That’s easily solved. Come on.”

  I followed her inside the house, wondering for a moment if she was going to become my fairy godmother, complete with magic wand and the ability to transform me from Chey to Cinderella—although without the poufy dress.

  That so wasn’t my style.

  Trish’s magic wand turned out to be Dad’s platinum AMEX card. She promised my matching one was on its way—Dad had ordered me one just before I’d arrived. Along with a supposed new bank card I hadn’t seen yet, either.

  “He talked you into this, didn’t he?” I asked as I got in the passenger side of her car ten minutes later after I’d grabbed my shoes and purse and put my hair into a ponytail.

  I probably convinced him that morning I needed drastic help. I couldn’t even decide if I wanted to go to a party or not. A tsunami size wave of guilt washed over me. Trish didn’t need to baby-sit me. I’m sure she had more important things to do than try to help me fit in.

  “I offered.” She glanced at me with a warm smile as she pulled out onto the street. “Besides, I didn’t think you’d want to go shopping with him. He’s in and out of a store in like fifteen minutes, he knows exactly what he wants when he goes in, and once he has it, he leaves. Not much fun in that”

  I had to agree with her on that point. “How did I get invited, anyways? I don’t know anyone here I’m not related to.”

  “He’s good friends with her parents. He mentioned you were coming out here last week over dinner and that you didn’t know anyone. Their daughter was glad to put you on the list.”

  The list.

  That definitely sounded L.A.

  “So, what do I need to know?” I asked, picking at my thumbnail.

  “Be yourself. Remember, all these kids are just like you.”

  Sure. I leaned back and watched the palm trees blur by. Just like me, huh? Wasn’t so sure about that. They’d probably all grown up together, been to countless different events together, school, everything. They had history.

  I, on the other hand, didn’t.

  My events? The occasional Rangers game with Dad. The once or twice we’d ended up on the screen. Dad’s movies had always been a little too ‘adult’ for me to go to a red carpet for. And he’d always been working when there’d been an invite to something a little more family-friendly.

  So I was the new girl…who likely needed to find a way to fit in.

  By the time we returned home several hours and several stores later, I was the proud new owner of a nice new L.A.-inspired wardrobe. Shoes that had made me smile the first time I saw them were now in their boxes, waiting to be put on a shelf in my closet. Jeans I’d looked at online were now being pulled out of multiple shopping bags and laid on the bed. Shorts. Shirts. Tank tops. I had enough to nicely fill in my sparse walk-in closet. Plus thrown in were a couple new swimsuits Trish had talked me into since I was spending so much time out by the pool already.

  I would have dwindled my measly savings account on the shoes alone if Trish hadn’t told me it was Dad’s treat and to put everything on his credit card.

  Personally, I figured he was experiencing parental guilt over missing my graduation and my first full week in L.A. But hey, I wasn’t complaining, not with my freshly stocked closet.

  Trish handed me the new sunglasses she’d bought me for the party that night. “I think your Dad’s back. Do you want to show him what we got?”

  I peered at the stack of clothes covering my bed and grew a little nervous. I could barely see any of my duvet beneath. Maybe he’d say it was too much. “Maybe not right now.”

  I stuck my hands in my back jean pockets and swayed back and forth on my feet a little, biting my bottom lip.

  “I’ll go tell him we’re back and leave you to get ready. Holler if you need anything.”

  She shut the door behind her, then I turned back to stare at the bed, the total number of clothes almost overwhelming me. I mean, I thought a new shirt and jeans would be fine—it was only one party, right? But Trish had been adamant Dad would want me to get what I needed for the summer, so…that’s what we did, leaving behind many happy salesclerks in our wake.

  I headed to my balcony door to see if Dad was out back, but instead, I saw a tall, dark-haired, decently muscular guy in the yard near the garage, staring up at the house. I yanked the curtain back quickly, hesitating about peeking back outside.

  All right, there had to be a reason for there to be a strange guy in the backyard.

  The conversation with Dad about my somewhat non-existent love life came flashing back, and suddenly, a wash of dread came over me. I really hoped he hadn’t decided to play matchmaker. First, the party, and now what, a date?

  I pulled the curtain back a little, but he was gone.

  I knew he hadn’t been a mirage.

  I could go to Trish and tell her I saw some strange teenager on the property, or even call Dad on his cell. Maybe this guy was a stalker. All celebs had stalkers, right? This one could be Dad’s. One who kinda, now that I thought about it, looked a lot like the pizza delivery guy from yesterday. Oh lord, I’d answered the door, not even bothering to ask how he’d gotten by the gate.

  “Chey!” Dad hollered from down the hall, ruining my overeager imagination.

  “Coming!” I grabbed my sunglasses from where I’d absently set them down on the edge of the bed and headed downstairs in time to see him disappear from view. Maybe he’d seen the guy, too.

  “Dad?” I called, not sure where to go.

  “Outside.”

  Not on the patio. I walked barefoot across the cement stones, enjoying the warmth beneath my feet as I tried to figure out where he was. I rounded the edge of the house, thinking maybe I should have grabbed my cell phone, when I saw the same pizza delivery guy towering over Dad by a good inch and a half, talking away like they were best buddies.

  “Chey, come meet someone,” Dad said with a big warm smile as he finally saw me and waved me over to join them.

  Who was this guy? I really hoped Dad hadn’t befriended his stalker…

  Or worse.

  With that grin on Dad’s face, he looked awfully happy for me to meet this guy. Oh, please, do not let this be some bizarre fix-up. I know I’d told him I was single again, but that didn’t mean he needed to go out and find me someone. I managed a weak smile as I stopped in front of him, putting my attention squarely on Dad.

  “This is Milo.”

  I turned my head and looked up at him. Wow, was he tall—and extremely familiar. Definitely the delivery guy. The breeze teased his shaggy black hair.

  “Hi. I’m Chey.”

  Dad must have sensed the whole ‘who the hell is he’ vibe emanating from me. “He’s Trish’s son.”

  I think I stumbled back a good step or two. Trish had a son?

  “Nice to meet you.” You look nothing like your mother, I wanted to say.

  “You, too.” He gave me a half smile then turned back to my dad. “I’ll get that taken care of.”

  “Thanks, Milo.”

  We watched him walk away, and I glanced at Dad. “He works here, too?”

  “Summ
ers. He does some errands Trish can’t or wouldn’t want to do. He’s the one I played basketball with earlier.”

  Great. Male bonding at its finest? But before I could think of something coherent to ask, Dad beat me to it.

  “So, Trish tells me you’re going out tonight.”

  “Yeah, thought I’d give it a shot.”

  He grinned and ruffled my hair like I was five. “Glad you’re going. I think you’ll have a great time.”

  Fingers crossed. But I kept silent.

  Great time. Fingers crossed. But I was kind of doubtful of the whole great time aspect so I kept silent.

  “I have a surprise for you.”

  “Will it top the car?” I half-joked.

  “It could. I called my stylist, and she’s sending someone over to do your hair and make up for tonight.”

  My jaw dropped. “Seriously?”

  I’d figured I’d check through a couple YouTube tutorials to update my usual look. A little more eye shadow, darker eyeliner, and I hoped I’d blend in or at least not stand out so much.

  “I thought you deserved the star treatment on your first big night in town. She’ll probably be here soon if you wanted to head in and start getting changed.” He checked his watch, and I couldn’t help doing the same, leaning over his arm to see the time. I had what was hopefully plenty of time to get ready and get there.

  “Thanks, Dad.” I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek, smiling at his smile.

  “I just want you to be happy, Kiddo.”

  “I am.”

  ***

  By the time Trish had knocked on my door with Veronica, Dad’s stylist, right behind her, I was trying not to bite off all my fingernails, a habit I’d never had before.

  It hadn’t taken Veronica that long to work her magic after she’d paired one of my new shirts with a pair of sandals and a pair of jeans. After a quick introduction, Trish had taken off, Veronica had set her make up bag out, checked what I had, and we’d started talking while she worked.

  My usually stick straight, flat hair that I bemoaned most days was in soft waves that looked more natural than anything. Veronica liked what I’d picked up that afternoon and added a few things of her own. My make-up was a little darker than what I normally wore, with a little more glow than I’d ever been capable of creating on my own, but I had to agree with her as she packed up her gear that it looked perfect.

  With a good luck hug, she left me to finish getting ready. I fastened my little gold earrings in my ears, took a deep breath, slid my feet into my new sandals, and headed downstairs.

  “You look great,” Trish said as I came down the last stair.

  “Really?” I wasn’t normally so self-conscious, but I had no idea who was going to be at this party. Pretty well everyone I knew in L.A. was in the house at that very moment.

  I must have looked really anxious. It was the only reason I could think of to explain the next words out of her mouth.

  “Do you want Milo to go with you?”

  I knew Trish meant that as a good thing, but taking Milo? I barely knew him more than a millisecond.

  I looked over at him sitting at the kitchen table, tapping away on a laptop.

  “Do you want to go?” I asked politely, fingers crossed he had other plans. I didn’t need a babysitter. Even one my age.

  He shook his head, not even looking at me. “No, thanks.”

  There was something in his voice that I didn’t quite understand, but I figured he was as thrilled with the invite to tag along as I’d been.

  I tugged down the back of my navy blue halter top from where it kept wanting to ride up in the back. “Well, then I guess I’ll go.”

  “You’ve got your directions and the invite?” Trish asked.

  “Yeah.” I had made sure I had both upstairs on paper so I didn’t need to worry about my phone suddenly finding the only dead zone in Los Angeles or having the GPS in the car suddenly die on me. I needed the pass code to get inside without looking like an idiot or trying to prove who I was to some bored-looking security guy.

  The map would be a little less important. If I got lost, I could always call Trish for help or try and use the GPS system in my car. It didn’t seem like it would be too complicated, but I figured Trish was my best option, the reason why she was now contact number one on my cell phone.

  “You look great, Chey,” Dad said as he walked into the kitchen and saw me. “Have fun. You’ll do fine tonight.”

  Right.

  After a couple quick hugs from him and Trish, I headed for the front door. If this was Mom’s, she’d be telling me to be back before midnight, text when I got there, and text her if I knew I was going to be late.

  But there were no instructions from Trish, and Dad had already headed back upstairs to his stylist, the one who’d done my hair and make-up for me so I blended in, or at least attempted to, anyway. Didn’t want to look like a complete outsider, even if I was one.

  Welcome to my first L.A. gridlock.

  For what was supposed to be probably a ten-minute trip tops, I was stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic on Sunset, wishing I’d taken the alternate route, the one that had looked like a curvy snake on my print out. Instead, I’d opted for what I’d thought would be the easier drive. Ha.

  The announcer on the radio talked about an accident a mere two blocks away. No wonder I still sat in the same spot as I did twenty minutes ago. Someone a little more superstitious might think this was the definitive sign that this was the wrong thing to do, that I should turn the car back around at my first chance and head home.

  But the new me, the one wearing the brand new Fenty and MAC make-up, in brand new jeans that were worth more than one of my pizza delivery paychecks last summer, tapping her sandaled foot inside her shiny new black car, was ready to fully embrace her new existence.

  And step one was to go to this party.

  Maybe I’d find someone I could hang out with. I think Dad hoped Milo and I would become fast friends, but he wasn’t exactly the warm and welcoming type like his mother.

  Just as I was about to attempt to use the GPS to find an alternate route that would get me around the accident, the car in front of me started to move.

  I took a deep breath and eased further into traffic.

  Now or never, there really would be no turning back.

  4

  I turned into the driveway with the number partially hidden by the ivy and hoped—prayed, even—that this was the right address. I could just imagine trying to key the code in for the party and having some nasty security guy come charging towards me, demanding to know what I was doing.

  Luckily for me, the code worked on the first try, and the huge black gates slid smoothly back, welcoming me in. I gingerly put my foot on the gas and crept forward in awe as I followed the curving road up past the gates and up a slight incline.

  After one last bend, suddenly, the road opened up.

  The driveway, if it could still be called that, spread out like a huge parking lot in front of me, both left and right.

  Parked cars were everywhere, and suddenly, apprehension washed over me as I could see the house up ahead, a short trek from where I sat.

  Well, it was either a house or some sort of movie set with the size of it. It seemed like there should have been cameras or a film crew milling around, setting up shots or whatever else they do.

  But all I saw were a few people around my age getting out of cars and lazily walking up towards the house.

  It dwarfed Dad’s easily.

  Heck, Dad’s could have been considered a garage next to this one. If there was a place that seemed old Hollywood, this was it.

  What was I doing? I so didn’t belong in a place like this.

  No one had seen me yet; I could simply sneak back out. Not like anyone was expecting me, anyway. I still wasn’t sure this Adriana even knew I’d been invited, let alone who I was.

  I could just go.

  On the other hand, this could be my only re
al chance to meet people my age for a while.

  Well, besides Milo.

  I quickly made a deal with myself, hoping it would stop my nerves from making me sick.

  If I didn’t find a single person to talk to, or simply didn’t like it there, I was gone. I didn’t need to stay long, fifteen minutes, half-hour tops, and then, I could leave. I could still make the nine o’clock movie somewhere. Or if not, hit a drive thru, get a burger, go home, and spend some quality time on my balcony, watch the city lights for a while. Not like anyone would be checking what time I’d actually gotten home. Dad didn’t seem like the type to check the security camera.. If he asked, I could tell him I had a good time, and no one would be the wiser.