I know, I know. Tori wrote really mean things about you. And if she asked me what to do, I’d tell her to apologize to you, too. But you sort of started it, even though you tried to get in touch with her and even find her on the beach. Just call her and tell her what you told me.
And, Nat—do it fast. It’s only going to get worse between the two of you if you don’t. You were both born under stubborn signs!
Love and luck,
Alyssa
Natalie let herself flop back onto her pillows. Alyssa was right. Natalie needed to apologize. And she would. She just needed a few minutes—or a few hours—to forget some of what Tori had written about her.
Then Natalie would definitely say she was sorry. It wouldn’t be easy, but she’d do it.
chapter
NINE
To: imnotmichaelJORDAN
From: BrynnWins
Subject: You and me
Hi, Jordan,
I wish we’d had some time by ourselves at the mall yesterday. Not that I wasn’t happy to see Priya. Priya’s the best. But there was something I wanted to talk to you about in person. But I can’t wait until the next time we’re together. Since as you totally know, we aren’t together that much lately.
Ack! I’m so bad at this. This is so hard to say. Even to type say. I know you don’t like how busy I’ve been with the play. And I have to tell you that I’m not going to be able to change that. The Tempest opens tomorrow—as you also totally know, since I talk about the play way too much! It probably seems like I’ll have a ton more free time after that. But I won’t. We have a performance almost every night, which means when I’m not onstage, I’ll be doing homework. (If I don’t, I’ll be dead. Murdered by my parents.)
So for the next few months, I won’t be able to see you much at all. Maybe once or twice, but that’s it. It will be like you hardly have a girlfriend. So I was thinking, maybe it would be better if we just agreed not to be boyfriend and girlfriend until after the play, ya know?
I hope you understand.
Brynn
Brynn hit Send without reading over the e-mail. It was hard enough to write it.
She glanced at the hula girl clock on her desk. She had to leave for rehearsal in less than an hour. How was she supposed to transform herself into Miranda when all she could think about was Jordan and how he was going to feel when he read her message?
Shower, she decided. You need to take a shower. Brynn had actually taken a shower when she first got up this morning, about three hours ago. But one of her acting books said you should take a shower before a performance and imagine all your personal junk—worries, fears, angry thoughts, whatever—running down the drain with the water. That way there’s nothing to block the character you’re playing.
Brynn hurried to the bathroom, tossed off her clothes, and jumped into the shower. She turned on the spray as hot as she could stand it. She loved it when steam filled the little room, even though her dad was always telling her that someday firemen were going to break down the door, thinking the house was on fire.
She studied the bottles of bath gel in the plastic rack that was stuck to the shower wall with little suction cups, and then reached for the Mandarin orange. Jordan loved the smell of oranges.
Jordan. Had he read her e-mail yet? Was he upset? Mad? Had he told Priya? Had—
Stop! Brynn ordered herself. The whole point of the shower was to get rid of all her worries about Jordan and Priya and everything else. She needed to be ready to transform herself into Miranda. She’d been working so hard, squeezing in extra rehearsals with Vern, going over her script until her eyes felt hot and heavy, skipping all her favorite TV shows to recite her lines in front of the mirror. She couldn’t let anything stop her from delivering the awesome performance she knew was in her.
So definitely no Mandarin orange. Brynn stuck the bottle back into the rack and grabbed the deep maroon bottle of fig and flower scented gel. Figs and flowers. Miranda’s island probably had figs and flowers growing on it.
She closed her eyes and she poured some of the gel into her hands. She sucked in a deep lungful of the lush perfume—and steam—and imagined that she was the girl who had never seen another human but her father. Until Ferdinand, with his green eyes and—
No. Vern was playing Ferdinand, and Vern’s eyes were smoky blue-gray. Jordan’s eyes were green.
Brynn sighed. Washing personal stuff down the drain was a lot harder than the acting book had made it sound.
She got out of the shower twenty minutes later. Her fingers and toes were wrinkly, but she felt ready to have a triumphant dress rehearsal. She was going to become Miranda.
Brynn grabbed a towel and dried off as fast as she could. Being late definitely wasn’t part of her plan to be triumphant. She whipped on her clothes, then bounded out into the hallway. “Dad, we need to leave for the theater!” she called.
“Give me five,” he called back.
“Okay,” she answered. They had five to spare. Barely.
She headed for the kitchen to get a granola bar for the road. But she paused as she started past her bedroom. Through the half-open door she could see her computer.
Had Jordan read her e-mail yet? Had he already answered her?
Don’t check until you come home, Brynn told herself. You just practically washed yourself down the drain so you wouldn’t be thinking about Jordan during rehearsal.
Her feet walked themselves over to her desk. Like they had a mind of their own. Her rear planted itself in the chair in front of the computer. Her fingers logged on to her e-mail account. Her eyes checked the messages.
There was one new one. From Priya.
Brynn’s throat turned to a desert, dry and scratchy. She didn’t want to read that e-mail. But she couldn’t stop herself. She clicked it open.
To: BrynnWins
From: Priyadayada
Subject: What you did
I don’t believe you, Brynn. Jordan is the best guy in the world—even if you don’t think so. And you break up with him. In an e-mail!
He can’t even answer you right now. That’s how much you hurt him. So I’m answering for him. I’m glad you broke up with him. You just proved he deserves a lot better. Go be with one of your drama boys, like you want to.
Don’t expect Jordan or me to be hanging with you at camp this summer.
Priya
“Yes?” Michael said, pretending not to recognize Tori when he saw her standing on his porch.
She raised her eyebrows. She was so not in the mood.
“If you’re selling something, we don’t do door-to-door,” he told her.
So extremely not in the mood. Tori pushed past Michael and headed to the den. She curled up in her favorite chair, the one with the built-in massager. “What did you rent?”
Michael held up a DVD case that had a bunch of snakes coiled around a bus on the front.
Tori rolled her eyes. “Movies go straight to video for a reason, you know,” she told him.
“No one’s forcing you to watch it,” Michael shot back. He shoved the disc into the DVD player.
“Sorry,” Tori muttered. “It’s Natalie I’m mad at, not you.”
Michael let out a dramatic groan. “We’ve barely hung out since Natalie showed up. And now that we are, she’s still wrecking things.” He flopped down on the sofa and picked up the remote. “And anyway, I thought she left you a message apologizing.”
“She did. Two,” Tori admitted. “I deleted them. I can’t even stand to hear her voice right now.”
A sliver of guilt poked at her. She ignored it. She had nothing to feel guilty about. An apology—or two—didn’t make everything okay.
“Whatever,” Michael said. “You’re still letting her stop us from having fun. And it’s not like she isn’t going to be out having a good time tonight.”
“What?” Tori demanded.
“Nothing,” Michael answered quickly. “Let’s just watch the movie. You thought the first one was funny.
That’s why I got this one.” He clicked on the TV.
“Wait. Don’t start it. I want to know exactly what you meant about Natalie having a good time tonight.” Tori stared at Michael, willing him to talk.
“Fine. But you’re not going to like it,” Michael finally said. “Reed told me he and Nat are going out to dinner tonight.”
“Oh, that’s perfect.” Tori snatched her purse off the floor and yanked out her cell phone. She hit Natalie’s speed dial number. She promised herself she was erasing Natalie from her phone as soon as she hung up. This was the last time she wanted to talk to her so-called friend.
“Hello,” Natalie said.
“I got your messages and I don’t care that you’re sorry. Or at least that you say you are,” Tori said in a rush, anger bringing a flush to her cheeks and the back of her neck.
“But, Tori, I tried to get in touch with you and tell you what was going on. It’s not my fault I couldn’t get a signal,” Natalie protested.
“There were no signal problems the day you were hanging out with Reed,” Tori snapped. “You hardly even know him and you’re spending more time with him than me. We’re supposed to be friends.”
“I thought we were past that,” Natalie said. “I apologized, you accepted. You said you understood that I was upset about my dad canceling on me at the last minute. I shouldn’t have forgotten we said we’d get together if my father was busy. But like I said, I was upset.” She said the last word slowly, like she was talking to a toddler.
“Are you going to be upset again tonight?” Tori asked.
“What are you talking about?” Natalie responded.
“I know you’re going out with Reed tonight,” Tori informed her. Michael slapped his hands over his face and shook his head.
“If you’d called me back after either of the messages I left you, I was going to see if you wanted to come. I really did want to spend a lot of time with you while I was here,” Natalie said.
“Yeah, it really shows,” Tori replied.
“Look, Tori, I’m trying to be nice here,” Natalie said. “Even though you went on the blog and completely trashed me in front of everybody.”
“You deserved it!” Tori cried.
“No I didn’t. You didn’t even call me. You went behind my back and started crying to all our friends,” Natalie answered, her voice getting higher and higher.
“All I did was tell the truth.” Tori brushed her long blond hair away from her face with her free hand. “You are selfish and thoughtless and everything else I wrote.”
“If you think that, you shouldn’t care that I’m going out with Reed tonight,” Natalie yelled. “You shouldn’t ever want to see me again.”
“I don’t!” Tori shouted back.
“Then forget about going to the Academy Awards with me.” Natalie hung up without giving Tori a chance to respond.
Tori snapped her phone shut. She should have been the one to hang up first. Natalie really was so selfish.
chapter
TEN
Flashes went off from a bunch of cameras as Natalie, Reed, and both their fathers walked past the white picket fence outside the Ivy, a restaurant where everyone who was anyone dined. Flashes were always going off outside the Ivy. A pack of paparazzi practically lived across the street, using their telephoto lenses to catch the stars.
Natalie spotted Jessica Biel and Will Ferrell as soon as she stepped inside. The host led them to a table right next to the fireplace.
“Primo table. Impressive,” Reed whispered to Natalie.
Natalie nodded. She’d been in Hollywood often enough to know that the more powerful someone was in the film industry, the better the table they got at the Ivy and all the other celebrity hot spots.
“If we can get along as well as these two, we should definitely do the movie together,” Reed’s father said. He and Natalie’s father were thinking of working on a project together—Reed’s dad directing, Natalie’s starring. When they’d heard Reed and Natalie were meeting up for dinner, they’d decided to crash and talk business. And they insisted on coming to the Ivy, where most of the important deals in Hollywood were made.
Natalie smiled at Mr. Garrett. “Please do it,” she begged him. “You’re supposed to be able to get an amazing performance out of any actor. Even an action star like my dad.”
“Excuse me,” her dad said. “An action star who has been nominated for an Oscar.”
“What he’s saying is he wants big, big bucks,” Mr. Garrett explained to Reed and Natalie.
Their waiter approached, looking spiffy in the Ivy uniform, a pink shirt with roses scattered across it. “The usual?” he asked Mr. Garrett.
Mr. Garrett nodded. “I love the fried chicken here so much, I never get anything else.”
“I’ll give the rest of you time to look over the menu,” the waiter said.
“All I care about is dessert,” Reed commented. “They have the best desserts in the world here.”
“We came here for Reed’s last birthday,” Mr. Garrett said. “He had dessert for every course. Appetizer, main, and, of course, dessert.”
“The desserts here are awesome,” Natalie told Reed as their fathers turned to talking about business. “But the best dessert in the world? No way. New York has the best dessert. Serendipity’s frozen hot chocolate.”
“Let me ask you this. Have you had the fudgie pecan brownie here?” Reed asked.
“No,” Natalie admitted. “But I’ve had lots of the other desserts, and—”
“Until you’ve had the brownie, I’m not talking to you,” Reed interrupted.
“Fine. But you’ve got to admit that New York has the best pizza,” Natalie said.
“No contest. Famous Original Ray’s,” Reed agreed.
“Okay. I’m glad you said that. Now we can stay friends,” Natalie told him.
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she thought of Tori. Their phone call had gotten so nasty. They were never going to be able to be friends again. Natalie didn’t even want to think about how it would be at camp this summer.
“Maybe we can be friends,” Reed said. “But there are a few more things we have to discuss. Let’s talk baseball teams.”
Natalie laughed, and a little of the stress that had been knotting up her shoulders ever since she hung up on Tori slid away. Reed was so cool. “Hey, do you want to go to the Oscars with me?” she blurted out.
“Really?” Reed asked. “Even my dad couldn’t score tix this year. He doesn’t have anything nominated.”
“Dad managed to get a pair for me and a friend. So are you coming with me or not?” Natalie teased.
“I’m coming. Are you kidding? Of course I’m coming,” Reed answered. Then he frowned. “But, wait, I thought Michael told me you were taking Tori.”
The word Tori was like a punch to Natalie’s gut. “Um, Tori and I…” She really didn’t want to go into the whole thing. She felt like she might start screaming—or crying—if she talked about it too much. “Tori and I, we thought it might be fun if I had an actual date. You know, a guy type person.”
Reed might find out the truth from Michael—although guys didn’t seem to talk about real stuff as much as girls did—but Natalie would deal with that if it happened.
“Well, I’m very happy to be your guy type person,” Reed told her.
“Great!” Natalie exclaimed.
She’d have fun with Reed. She would. And it was Tori’s own fault that Natalie was giving her ticket to someone else.
Brynn watched as the storm started up onstage. It was so beautiful, beautiful and scary at the same time. The crashing waves were created by actors dressed in skintight blue and green unitards rolling and sliding and hurling themselves across the stage, waving long, long scarves.
The shipwreck was about to happen. Then there was a short scene with the men on the ship, then Brynn’s first scene. She had about five minutes, so she tiptoed into the lobby of the theater and called Grace.
“I can only talk for a second,” she burst out as soon as Grace answered. “I’m on the cell, and it’s not free minutes yet. I need you to do me a huge favor. Will you check my e-mail for me? I sent Jordan a breakup e-mail and I have to know if he answered. My cell is so prehistoric, I can’t use it to check my inbox.”
“You broke up with him over e-mail?” Grace exclaimed.
“Never mind about that part. We can talk about that later. I just need to know if Jordan answered. Priya said he was too hurt,” Brynn told her.
“So Priya was okay with the whole thing? She’s not mad?” Grace asked.
“No, you were right. Priya is probably planning how she can get away with murdering me right now. She completely hates me,” Brynn said. “But what I care about is Jordan. Just go into my e-mail account. My password is—”
“You’re not supposed to give anyone your password,” Grace interrupted.
“You’re my best friend!” Brynn exclaimed. “I trust you. And if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll change the password tonight.”
“Okay, tell me,” Grace said.
“It’s—don’t laugh. It’s stargirl, all one word,” Brynn said. “So go on. If Jordan answered, call me back and read what he said. If he didn’t answer, call me back and tell me. And hurry. I have to go onstage in, like, three minutes, and I can’t wait until my scene is over to know what’s going on.”
“I’m on it.” Grace hung up.
Brynn paced back and forth across the red carpet of the lobby. She was so not in Miranda’s head right now. The shower thing had not worked at all. All her worries about Jordan and Priya felt like they were stuck to her with superglue.
“Come on, Grace. Come on,” she muttered. Then she took a deep breath and started to count. “One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi…” Her cell rang at twenty-three Mississippi.
“Talk fast,” Brynn said instead of hello.
“Sorry. No e-mail from Jordan,” Grace told her.
“Okay. Okay.” Brynn felt tears sting her eyes and she blinked them away. “Well, that’s…I wanted to know that. I’ll talk to you later.”
And the Winner Is...#18 Page 7
