by Jen Calonita
I nod, trying to look knowing. Whenever I volunteer at a charity event, all the details are taken care of. Like last week's Celebrity Cares Carnival. All I did was show up and man the water-gun booth. How they raised the money for tickets or transported the games to carnival chair Samuel L. Jackson's mammoth backyard, I have no idea.
"What we need," Beth says after we've bought lunch and brought it back to the table, "is a celebrity host."
"What do you mean?" Liz asks, and takes an enormous bite of her club sandwich.
"Well, the way we make money is to sell tickets to the dance, right?" Beth explains. "If we have a celebrity host the event, then more people are likely to buy tickets."
"If only we could think of a celebrity willing to come to a cheesy high school dance." Allison frowns.
We sit there in silence for a few minutes. I could think of a bunch of stars that would do it for the publicity, but how would I explain to Beth and Allison why I know them? Or explain to whatever star I ask why I'm not actually going to the dance myself, since I'll be going as Rachel going as ... oh, forget it.
Beth and Allison stare at Liz. "Please don't ask me," she groans.
I reach for my Vitamin Water and take a swig.
"Come on, Liz," Allison coaxes. "Can't you ask Kaitlin Burke?"
The water in my mouth sprays onto the table.
"Oh my God!" Allison exclaims. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I whisper hoarsely. I guess I forgot that Allison and Beth know Liz is friends with me.
"I can't ask her that." Liz glances at me sideways. "That would be trading on our friendship."
"Friends ask friends for favors," Beth pleads.
"Can't we think of somebody else?" Liz says. "Kaitlin is getting ready to film a movie and she's swamped with Family Affair stuff."
"Don't you mean she's busy cat-fighting with her costars?" Allison mumbles.
"Be nice," Liz cautions.
"Well, if you feel uncomfortable asking her, then maybe you can have your dad get us someone else," Beth suggests. I look from Beth to Liz.
"I don't know what's worse," Liz groans. "Asking Kaitlin or asking my dad to find me a host. When we got White Bandits to play the Winter Carnival last year, it took me three months of begging. He never lets me forget it either. No, we've got to get someone on our own this time." Liz shrugs apologetically, adjusting the pink- and silver-beaded necklace that dangles over her lavender crewneck sweater.
"Kaitlin's just so perfect for this," Beth coos. Liz purses her lips.
"Maybe there's a way to get her without you asking," Beth suggests. "My uncle's golf partner is Tom Pullman, the producer of Family Affair," she explains. "Maybe he could ask her for us." Oh God.
"I don't know," Liz says nervously. "I don't want Kaitlin to think I put her up to this. Maybe we should think of someone else."
"Yeah," I second a bit too loudly. Everyone looks at me. The problem is I can't come up with anyone else myself.
"She won't think you had anything to do with this," Allison assures her. "Beth, ask your uncle to try to get her." She turns to Liz. "Unless you want to call her yourself...."
Liz shakes her head. "No, but..."
"Then it's settled," Beth declares. "I'll ask my uncle to ask Tom Pullman to ask her." She spears a forkful of Caesar salad and munches happily.
Liz and I look at our plates. I am so screwed. How am I going to explain this to Tom? He doesn't even know I'm at school. I've got to call Laney. I'm about to excuse myself when I hear the theme music to The O.C. It's Liz's cell phone ring tone.
"Who would be calling me during school?" Liz wonders. "Hello?" She jumps. "Sorry Dad. We don't usually keep our phones on during the day. Uh-huh. Well, you can ask her yourself if you want. Hold on." Liz hands me her phone. "It's my dad. He says you left your, uh, iPod at my house."
I take the phone from Liz. What the .. . "Hello?"
"IT'S ME." I recognize Laney's voice right away. "RODNEY IS PICKING YOU UP TO TAKE YOU TO THE BEAUTY BUFFET IN TWENTY MINUTES."
I quickly walk away from the table. I don't want anyone to hear Laney screaming. "Twenty minutes? I thought I was going at five," I whisper.
"NO, CHANGE OF PLANS. ACCESS HOLLYWOOD IS THERE NOW SO YOU NEED TO GO. I ALREADY TOLD PRINCIPAL PEARSON." I hear glasses clinking in the background and the low roar of a busy restaurant. "HOLD ON. HI, NICOLE! HOW ARE THE KIDS?"
"Has anyone heard from Hutch Adams?" I mumble. "Has he breathed in Sky's aura?"
"I don't know," Laney says more quietly. "I'm sure we'll hear something soon. NOW GO MEET RODNEY. WE'LL TALK LATER." She hangs up.
I walk back to the table. Maybe they didn't hear Laney yell....
"Was Liz's dad yelling at you?" Beth asks, her round face creased with concern.
"No, not at all," I say quickly.
"My dad can be hard of hearing sometimes," Liz explains. "He doesn't realize he's yelling." We both giggle nervously.
"I have to go," I announce to the table. "I forgot I have a doctor's appointment this afternoon. My Uncle Rodney is waiting downstairs to pick me up." I look Liz in the eye. She nods knowingly.
"But we were just going to discuss decorations," Allison protests. "I can't meet later. I have dance practice at three."
"I'll think of some ideas and call you tonight," I promise, hurriedly gathering my things. Then I run -- as usual -- to find Rodney.
HOLLYWOOD SECRET NUMBER FOURTEEN: Celebrity events like the Beauty Buffet rock, but they come at a price. The companies who sponsor the event will give manicures, pedis, facials, Mystic Tanning, a massage, and a bulging bag of products. But in exchange for the loot, you become a walking advertisement for the brands. More than once I've opened Us Weekly and seen my name and picture next to a product I supposedly love ( "Kaitlin Burke never leaves home without her Trendwatch messenger bag!"). Want free concealer? Then be prepared for the company to say you endorse their product, even though you got it for free, used it once, and maybe didn't even like it.
Today's gift suite is no different, in a private room at the Beverly Hills Hilton, a favorite of jet-setting models and Hollywood royalty. The Buffet looks like an upscale flea market with its rows of booths and services. A Buffet representative greets me at the door and shows me to each table, brightly colored with teal silk cloths. There, an eager publicist is waiting to tell us why a new non-sticky hair gel is the most innovative hair care product on the market. (I grab some for Paul.) I listen patiently at each booth and say things like, "Isn't that amazing!" or "That smells fantastic!" but only take something if I really like it (unlike certain celebs who clean house and then re-gift the stuff at Christmas).
In between booths, I catch up with industry pals that I haven't seen since the last big freebie event rolled into town (ahem, it was only three weeks ago). Some stars go to every single one, like Shana Ellison. I haven't run into others, like my pal Gina Jefferson, in months. We get pedicures together at the makeshift station located in an adjoining suite so that we can talk more about the WB pilot she just shot.
When I leave the Buffet, Rodney lugs my loot home -- including my favorite gift, an all-expenses-paid weekend at a new spa in Palm Springs -- and drops me back off at school. It's 3:15, which means I'm fifteen minutes late to meet Austin to study.
When I get to the library, I spot Austin's shaggy blond head near the biography section and hurry over.
"I know you're probably mad at me," I begin before he even looks up, "but I have a good excuse. I was kidnapped by the Emperor." I'm hoping he'll get a kick out of the Star Wars reference.
"Don't lie to me." He looks at me hard. "I know where you were."
I feel my knees start to buckle. "You, you do?" I stutter.
"Yeah, picking out something to wear for the Spring Fling. I hear they're running low on Princess Leia buns at the Costume Factory." He grins. He's already dressed for lacrosse practice in his oversized red Clark Hall gym t-shirt and gray sweat shorts.
I exhale slowly. "Yo
u caught me," I laugh nervously. "I was afraid someone else would buy it first."
He clears his throat. "Do you have a date yet?" he asks, his turquoise eyes fixed on my face.
Suddenly my palms feel clammy. I shake my head no.
"I was wondering if maybe you'd want to go with me?" He looks away, staring at the overflowing card catalog station topped with a faded sign that says READING IS FUNDAMENTAL. "Together we could rule the galaxy, or at least the dance," he adds with a gorgeous mega-watt smile. He sounds almost shy.
I'm speechless. Is Austin really asking me? I thought he said we were just friends. I'm so confused. I want to go with him, but will that only complicate things further? If I get the Hutch Adams role, I'll be out of Clark before I know it. Is it really fair of me to start something now? What would Austin think if he knew who I really was?
My awkward silence is even more obvious in the quiet of the library. The only noise between us is the hushed whir of the central air conditioning duct above our heads.
The conflicted feelings must show on my face because Austin sighs. "Is this about Lori? We're over."
I shake my head again. This is weird. I've never felt this awkward with a boy before. But I know one thing: I want to go with him to the dance. Mrs. Blumberger, the librarian, walks through the nearby stack and stares at us menacingly. Even in hushed tones she can somehow hear us. When she's out of earshot, I look up at Austin.
"I was just thinking about who we'd go as," I say quietly.
"Is that a yes?" His voice sounds deeper than usual. I bite my lip and nod again.
"Well, you can forget about going as Anakin and Padmé." Austin grins. "They're not celebrities, just characters." I roll my eyes at his know-it-all tone.
"What if I go as someone completely off-the-wall and out of character?" he suggests.
"Like who?" I'm curious to hear what he'll come up with.
"This is going to sound lame, but the guys on the team think I look like Ryan from Family Affair." Austin looks even cuter when he's sheepish. "I've been thinking that I could go as the guy who plays him. What do you think? His name is Trevor Something."
"Wainright," I offer. This isn't happening to me. I'm afraid to even ask the obvious next question. "Would that mean I'd be going as Kaitlin Burke?"
"Yeah." Austin looks expectantly at me. "Supposedly they're into each other in real life. At least that's what my sister tells me. She loves those magazines." I guess I look nervous because then he adds, "You could pull it off, m sure.
"I bet I could." I try not to crack a smile. If he only knew. "Okay, why not? I'll do it."
"Cool," Austin says. He reaches over and gives my hand a quick squeeze. I instantly turn scarlet when he doesn't let go right away.
I can't look him in the eye right now. Part of me wants to faint at the idea of him touching me. The other part of me wants to throw up at my constant lies. I wish so much that I could tell him the truth. Nadine would say I'm being impulsive, but I feel like Austin knows me. Isn't Rachel Rogers who I really am inside? Rachel is Kaitlin with the glamour and hype stripped away -- parts of me that have wanted to escape for a while now. Rachel is Kaitlin. And Austin likes her.
Austin stares at me, as if he knows I have more to say. I open my mouth, imagining the words, when I hear it go off in my bag. My Sidekick is vibrating.
I already know who it is. Nadine is waiting outside with Rodney to take me to the airport for my forty-eight-hour New York trip with Laney. "I have to go," I say regretfully.
The mood is broken. "We didn't even study." He pulls his hand away slowly.
"I know, I'm sorry. Something came up unexpectedly with my mum. I'll give you a call tomorrow night to talk about our costumes. I'm going to be out tomorrow and Friday for a wedding."
Austin nods. "Have a good time," he says. "I'm going to stick around here and get some homework done before practice. Maybe we can get together for a movie or something when you get back."
I stuff my books in my black mesh messenger bag. "Sounds good," I respond quickly. Then I turn and dash out of the library, trying to wrap my head around what just happened. I, Kaitlin Burke, am going to Clark Hall's spring formal as Rachel Rogers dressed as Kaitlin Burke, while my date, who is infinitely cuter than Trevor Wainright, is dressing up as Trevor because his friends say he looks like him.
It's official. My life is now more complicated than anything the FA writers could cook up.
Wednesday 4/14
NOTES TO SELF:
April 22nd. Date of Spring Fling with Austin.:)
Have Nadine find a "Kaitlin costume" to wear 2 the dance. Should look good, but not 2 real.
Have Paul find a bad blond wig....
Make sure Laney booked us massages at the W after Letterman taping.
Call Seth about Hutch Adams. No -- don't call. I'm 2 afraid to find out what H thinks of me versus Sky!
Fourteen: Denim Blues
Yay! There's Saturday morning construction on the freeway again! It will take us an hour to get downtown for today's shoot.
Maybe I'm just hopped up on the Red Bull I downed in an act of desperation, but I'm loving the traffic situation this morning. It gives me a chance to fill Rodney and Nadine in on what happened at Clark Hall with Austin right before I left for New York. I've just flown the red-eye, and instead of getting some well-needed sleep or studying for my French exam, after forty-eight hours of schmoozing with Laney, I'm headed to an FA photo shoot for TV Tome's "Fall TV Preview" issue. Yes, I know it's April, but now is the only time the whole cast will be in L.A. during hiatus.
"Wait, let me get this straight." Nadine pulls out her bible to double-check today's shooting schedule. "You're going to the dance as Rachel masquerading as Kaitlin and Austin is going as Trevor?"
"Yeah," I confirm slowly. "But you haven't even heard the best part -- the Fling committee wants me to host the dance."
"I'm confused. Who do they want to host -- the real you or the fake you?" Rodney mumbles as he sips his Ice Blended.
"The real me." I tell them about the girls' enlisting Tom Pullman's help. "For a split second I thought about going as both," I continue, "but Mom almost had a heart attack when I mentioned it. She quickly called Tom to thank him for a great season, and when he brought up the dance, she sweetly told him we had a previous family engagement. He was really disappointed."
"What did Laney say about all this?" Nadine questions.
"Laney," Rodney groans.
"I know." I rub my forehead. I still have a dull headache just remembering that conversation on the plane. "Laney freaked out that Mom turned down the offer. To quote her exactly, 'KAITLIN, CHARITY EVENTS MAKE YOU LOOK GOOD. HOW COULD YOU SAY NO?'" I yell, mimicking Laney.
"She wanted you to go to the dance as yourself and as the fake Kaitlin?" Nadine asks incredulously.
"I said no to a school charity thing. Well, not exactly, but she also didn't want the tabloids finding out. She begged Mom to find a way for me to make an appearance."
"That's crazy," Nadine says. "How would you have pulled it off?"
"I know." I rake my fingers through my dry hair. My tresses are taking a beating from that skull cap I wear. "But now I'm in an even bigger mess. Tom told Mom he'd find someone to take my place, so Laney's upset. And Liz told me that Beth and Allison think Kaitlin Burke is a diva because she, or should I say L wouldn't host."
Rodney laughs. "You have gotten yourself into some mess, Kates."
Paul and Shelly say the same thing when I tell them what happened an hour later. They're doing my hair and makeup for the TV Tome shoot. Now Rodney, Nadine, Paul, Shelly, and I are all squished into a tiny dressing room at Boom! Studios trying to get me ready and discussing my latest dilemma.
"It sounds like you'll have to transfer to a new school," Shelly jokes.
"It's not funny," I protest. Nadine is biting her short nails again. She's not laughing.
"It's a sign, Kaitlin." She hands me a pair of ripped-at-the-knee hip-hugger j
eans to try on. TV Tome wants everyone to wear their own denim and white t-shirts for the shoot. The matching clothes are supposed to make us look like one big happy family (don't laugh!).
"Nadine," I moan. I walk behind a curtained area in the dressing room to change.
"You wanted the school experience and you got it," she says matter-of-factly. "Now it's time to leave before you blow your cover. You need to concentrate on more important things, like snagging the Hutch Adams flick you're drooling over."
"The script is to die for," I admit, thinking of how I devoured the manuscript while I was in New York. The character has a ton of action scenes and is a master at karate. I have to remember to e-mail Liz about joining her kickboxing class. I need some muscle tone if I want to play someone as killer as Hutch Adams's movie heroine.
I slip on a fitted bright white V-neck tee that stops right above my belly button, and walk around the curtain. Shelly nods her approval and begins applying my makeup. "But I don't want to miss the dance," I add, thinking of Austin. I get goose bumps whenever I replay in my mind the moment he asked me -- which I've been doing often.
"School dances." Paul shudders. "How exciting do you think a gymnasium full of boys in rented tuxedos is when you've already been to the Oscars?"
"The Oscar parties are fun, but attending the actual ceremony is a bit... dull," I say gingerly. Paul covers his mouth in horror. He's dying to sit in the audience for the Oscars, even if the ceremony is four plus hours long.
I'm not sure if Paul realizes HOLLYWOOD SECRET NUMBER FIFTEEN. When you watch an awards show from the comfort of your couch, you don't sit perfectly still in an uncomfortable floor-length gown and smile for four hours straight, do you? No, you wear your sweats, get up for bathroom breaks, and make popcorn during the Best Film Editing award. Well, thankfully, celebs don't have to stay in their seats the whole time either. Event coordinators for the Academy Awards and the Golden Globes hire seat fillers -- volunteers who will literally fill your seat so that the auditorium looks full the entire taping. That way, we can run to the bathroom, or better yet, drool over Colin Farrell at the bar (which is what I did last year).
