Dial L for Loser

by Lisi Harrison

  The producer was “whoop-dee-do”ing even faster.

  “What?” Massie snapped.

  “Wrap. It. Up!” he whisper-yelled.

  “Oh, right.” Massie blushed. “Tune in tomorrow, because we’ll have a lot more behind-the-scenes action from the new movie—”

  “Dial L for Loser. I’m Alicia Rivera and that was Massie Block and we heart you! See you tomorrow. Back to you, Merri-Lee.”

  The red light above the camera went dim.

  “Wonderful!” the producer shouted. He raced over to Claire and hugged her. “You saved us. Thank you.”

  “No problem,” Claire murmured into his hairy chest. When he finally let go, she ran over to Massie and Alicia.

  “You guys were great.” She smiled genuinely.

  Massie opened her mouth but nothing came out. She didn’t know who to yell at first: Claire for stealing the show, Alicia for stepping all over her lines, or the producer for distracting them with his silly hand gestures. The only thing she knew for sure was that she’d call an emergency meeting with her crew to make sure none of the above ever happened again. That was, if Merri-Lee didn’t fire them first.

  “Okay, you.” Stella rested her hand on Claire’s shoulder.

  “We have to get you dressed, run you over to makeup, and rehearse your scene. Oh, and the reporter from Access Hollywood wants five minutes with you before we start shooting at two p.m.”

  Claire rolled her eyes at Massie and Alicia, pretending to be unenthused about her day. But Massie knew she was just doing that so they wouldn’t think she was starting to get a big head.

  Too late!

  “Oh, and which one of you is Massie?” Stella was still scanning her clipboard.

  “I am.” Massie raised her hand. She knew if she hung around the set they’d offer her a role.

  “Please report to the makeup trailer.” Stella crossed something off her list. “Gina wants you to pick up your dog ay-sap. He just peed all over her brushes.”

  Alicia and Claire giggled.

  “She.” Massie stomped her foot. “And her name is Bean.”

  “That’s not what Gina called her.” Stella yanked Claire into the wardrobe room, then slammed the door in Massie’s face.

  GELDING STUDIOS

  THE DIAL L FOR LOSER SOUNDSTAGE

  BACKSTAGE

  Wednesday, March 18th

  7:20 P.M.

  “Hey, Cam, it’s me.” Claire mouthed goodbye to three extras in Lakeview Middle School uniforms as they passed her.

  “See ya tomorrow, Claire,” one of them gushed. “It was so nice meeting you.”

  “You were really good today,” added another.

  Claire smiled and pointed to her new special-edition Dial L for Loser phone, letting them know she would have thanked them if she hadn’t been mid-message.

  “Uh, anyway, where was I?” Claire rubbed her head. Her hair was sticky and coarse from too much hair spray. “Oh yeah, happy St. Patrick’s Day. I guess you’re going to the dance so, uh, have fun. I wish I was there. Believe me. School was so much easier. I’ve had the longest day ever.” She giggled. “Anyway, I miss y—, uh, Westchester. Call me later. Oh, have fun tonight. Wait. Did I already say that?” She giggled again. “Sorry, I’m so tired. ’Kay, I’m going now. Bye.”

  Claire wanted to tell him she loved him and missed him and couldn’t wait to lip-kiss him when she got home. But for all she knew, he was slow-dancing with another girl right now. So all she said was, “Call me, you know, when you get this message. Or when you have a minute. Or whenever. ’Kay? ’Kay. Bye. Again.” She hung up and sat on an empty camera case.

  Her entire body throbbed. It had been a long day of script-reads, scene-blocking, and endless introductions to people whose names she’d already forgotten. And now that she finally had a moment to relax, all Claire could think about was Cam and the rich, beautiful, popular girl who was probably pressing the tip of her nose against his Drakkar Noir–scented neck at this very moment.

  She flipped open her phone and dialed a new number, loving the way the red rhinestones felt against her palm.

  “Hello?”

  “Layne?”

  “Lyons?”

  “Yeah!” Claire forgot about her aching feet.

  “How’s it going? Have you met Conner? How is Abby? Is she being nice to you? I miss you! I wish you were going to be at the dance tonight. But wait, no, I don’t. I’m glad you’re there. You know, for you. But I wish you were going to the dance.”

  “I know. Me too.” Claire’s feet went back to aching. “Who are you going with?”

  “Meena and Heather.” Layne giggled. “We’re going to dominate!”

  “Who’s Cam taking?”

  “Dunno.” Layne suddenly sounded rushed. “Wait! My brother Chris is backing out of the driveway as we speak. Oh my Gawd, Chris! If you leave without me, I’ll—Claire, I gotta go. I’ll call you from the dance with a full Cam report. Chris, get back—”

  The line went dead. Claire sat and listened to the silence on the other end for a full minute before hanging up.

  Cl-eh, Cl-eh.

  Cl-eh, Cl-eh.

  She snapped out of her daze and flipped open her phone, which bleated Rupert’s voice every time it rang. It was something he insisted on, and Claire certainly wasn’t going to object. It wasn’t every day an Oscar-winning director volunteered to record her ringtone.

  Cl-eh, Cl-eh.

  Cl-eh, Cl-eh.

  “Hey!” She tried to sound upbeat in case it was Cam.

  “Where are you?” shouted the girl on the other end. Ciara’s “1, 2 Step” was blasting in the background.

  “Layne?” Claire jumped to her feet. “Are you at the dance already?”

  “Who?” The music on the other end got louder. So loud, in fact, that it sounded like it was coming from the other end of the hall.

  “It’s me, freak-a-dee!”

  “Me”? Claire wondered, wishing she had taken the time to program everyone’s numbers into her new phone. Maybe then she’d know who she was speaking to.

  “Where you at, kitty cat?”

  “Abby?” Claire felt funny saying the actress’s name. After all, they had only known each other for one full day. And most of it had been spent reading nasty lines to each other during rehearsals.

  “Yes, it’s Abby!” she shouted. “Wherefore art thou?”

  “Backstage. You?”

  “Wardrobe room.”

  Ahnna woo-hooed and Abby cracked up. “Get your butt in here. We have an eight p.m. rez at Boi, which means we have ten minutes to get fabulicious before the limo gets here.”

  “Are you serious?” Claire had no idea where Abby got her energy. “Aren’t you tired?”

  “Tired of not being on the scene, jelly bean.” Abby added a “woo-hoo” for effect. “Let’s go!”

  “I’m on my way.” Claire hung up and weaved her way past the dozens of crew members who were coiling cables and draping blankets over cameras so they could finally head for home.

  Claire thought about the big, soft bed in her suite and the mini cheeseburgers from room service and instantly regretted answering her phone. But Massie and Alicia were probably there trying on outfits for tomorrow’s Daily Grind segment, and Cam… Well, she had no idea what he was doing. So maybe a night on the town with Abby Boyd was just what she needed.

  Without further hesitation, Claire dialed her mother.

  “Are you all done for the day?” Judi asked.

  “Yup.”

  “How was it?”

  “Good. Long but good.” Claire grabbed a handful of Red Vines off the craft service table.

  “I want the details over dinner.” Judi sounded giddy. “I’m with Kendra and the girls right now. We’re thinking of going to—” She pulled away from the phone. “What’s the name of that spot?”

  “Asia de Cuba,” Kendra said. “In the Mondrian Hotel.”

  “Asia de Cuba,” Judi repeated. “It’s in some fancy
shmancy hotel.”

  “Uhm.” Claire took a deep breath. “Well, Abby kind of asked me to go to dinner with her.” Claire exhaled. “I think it’s kind of a get-to-know-you thing. But if you don’t want me to go I—”

  “Don’t be silly. Go! Have fun with Abby!” Judi pulled away from the phone again and started speaking to someone else. “What, dear? Oh… Well, why don’t you ask her yourself? Here she is.”

  Claire’s stomach clenched.

  “Kuh-laire?” Massie said. “Hey, how was your day?”

  “Not bad. Yours?” Claire couldn’t help holding back. The girls had been ignoring her ever since she’d helped them with their Daily Grind segment, and she knew better than to think they were suddenly over it.

  “Great! We worked out a lot of the kinks and tomorrow’s show is going to be ah-mazing.”

  “Good.” Claire stopped outside the wardrobe room. Nelly’s “Grillz” was blaring at top volume.

  “So what are you doing tonight?” Massie asked, like Claire had already told her but she’d forgotten.

  “Oh, I’m having some dinner thing with Abby.” Claire did her best to sound casual so she couldn’t be accused of bragging.

  Massie whispered something, probably to Alicia.

  “Listen.” Massie pressed her mouth against the phone. “We totally need a break from the mothers.”

  Claire’s chest tightened. She knew what was coming next.

  “Do you think we could meet up with you guys?”

  “Uh, I’m not sure where we’re going,” Claire lied. “Let me check with Abby and I’ll call you back.”

  “Awesome!” Massie whispered something else to Alicia. “Call me back, on my phone.”

  “’Kay. Oh, and tell my mom I’ll be home by ten thirty and that the limo will drop me off.”

  “’Kay. Call me back.” Massie hung up.

  Claire bit into a Red Vine and closed her eyes while she chewed. Why had her mother put Massie on the phone? Now Claire had to include her. And that meant a night of loser jokes at her expense.

  “Hey.” Claire pushed open the door to the wardrobe room. She wanted ten humiliation-free minutes with Abby Boyd. Then she’d call.

  “Heyyyyy,” Claire called again, but Abby and Ahnna were in the back by the mirrors and couldn’t hear her. “HEYYYYYY!”

  “Claire!” Abby jumped up on the denim couch. “Whaddu’ya think? Do you like?” She twirled so quickly, her sparkle-covered skirt puffed out like an umbrella.

  “You look ah-mazing!” Claire remembered the faded blue T-shirt dress she’d worn to the set and thought about going out in her Lakeview uniform. It was much sexier.

  “Ahnna made the skirt herself.” Abby jumped down.

  “Well, I just added the sparkles.” Ahnna shrugged. “It was easy. Abby was the genius who paired it with the bikini top and jean vest.”

  “If I knew we were going out tonight I would have put something together from the comp boxes, but—”

  “Relax.” Ahnna applied a fresh coat of red lipstick. “Abby and I already pulled something for you. If you don’t like it, there’s tons more to choose from.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Absolution,” Abby replied with a proud smile.

  Ahnna ran off for a second and reappeared with three hangers. The first held a tiny pair of gold shorts; the second, a faded vintage rock tee that said JOURNEY on the front; and the third, a wide leather belt.

  “You’re not serious, are you?” Claire had underwear bigger than those shorts.

  “Try it!” Ahnna stomped her foot in fake frustration.

  Claire bit her thumbnail.

  “Go!” Ahnna thrust the clothes into Claire’s arms.

  “Why not, right?” She giggled and headed for the curtain.

  She slid the shorts on under her pleated skirt and was surprised by how easily they fastened. The shirt was much tighter, but deliciously soft. And the belt slithered through the generous loops on the shorts and buckled with ease.

  “Come out, we wanna see!”

  Claire wiggled out of her uniform and yanked the curtain aside, anxious to see herself in the mirror.

  Abby’s and Ahnna’s mouths hung open.

  “What?” Claire’s cheeks burned. “Are the shorts up my butt? Do I look fat? Should I have shaved my thighs? I did my calves but stopped at my thighs because—”

  “You look foxy,” Ahnna mused.

  “Like a roller-derby rocker!” Abby punched the air.

  “Slip these on.” Ahnna handed Claire a pair of Frye cow-boy boots made from the same brown leather as the belt.

  “And these.” Abby hung a long string of wooden beads around Claire’s neck. “Wow.”

  “Claire, your legs look so long.” Ahnna sighed with a touch of envy.

  “Positively giraffic!” Abby twisted a yellow-stone ring off her pinky and handed it to Claire. “Here, take this.”

  “I can’t.” Claire shook her head.

  Abby wiggled her ring-covered fingers. “I think I can spare one.”

  “Seriously?” Claire took the ring and carefully slid it onto her pinky, as if it held the secrets of the universe.

  “Twist the stone.”

  Claire did what she was told and the ring popped open. Inside was a tiny pot of gold-speckled gloss.

  “It matches your shorts.” Abby grinned.

  “I love it.” Claire breathed in the caramel smell as she smeared it across her lips.

  “You look like Hollywood royalty.” Abby smiled.

  “I feel like it.” Claire hugged Abby, then Ahnna. “Thank you both.”

  Finally, Claire understood why the Pretty Committee was so obsessed with their outfits. She felt special dressed as a “roller-derby rocker”; unstoppable, beautiful, and alluring. But that was on the outside. Underneath the fabulous clothing she was still an insecure girl, dying to know why her crush wasn’t returning her call.

  Claire peeked at her phone. The display said 0 MESSAGES.

  “One more thing.” Ahnna came at her with a palmful of coconut-scented gel. She rubbed it between her fingers, then separated Claire’s bangs into spiky pieces. “Now you’re done.”

  “I want some of that.” Abby pouted.

  “C’mere.” Ahnna ran her gelly fingers through Abby’s short blond hair until it was full of twists, points, and intentional tangles.

  “Conner’s turn,” announced the actor, closing the door behind him.

  “What are you doing here?” Abby’s hazel eyes brightened. “I told you we’d meet you in the limo.”

  “He’s coming?” Claire whispered to Abby.

  She nodded. “Is that okay?

  “Of course!” Claire said a little too quickly. “I mean, sure. Why not?”

  “Conner needs a blazer.” He put his arms around Ahnna’s narrow hips and kissed her on both cheeks. “I can’t go out with two hot babygirls looking like this.”

  “Let’s go.” Ahnna pulled him toward the men’s section.

  Claire checked her phone again—still no messages. She was tempted to take a picture of herself and send it to Cam but decided to wait until he called back. Whenever that might be.

  Instead, she took a deep breath and dialed Massie. It had been more than ten minutes since they spoke and she was probably fuming. Claire was about to hit send but stopped. I’ll call after the next song, she told herself. Then she pressed store.

  “Last one in the limo rides without underwear!” Conner yelled. He pushed open the door and took off down the hall.

  Claire and Abby screamed, then raced out after him.

  “Thanks, Ahnna!” Claire called over her shoulder.

  “Pleasure.” Ahnna chuckled. “Have fun!”

  If Claire had been wearing her Keds she would have passed Conner, but the boots must have weighed five pounds and made her feel like she was jogging underwater. Still, she refused to spend her first night out in L.A. without underwear. It was too cliché.

  “Start strippi
ng!” she yelled when she passed Abby.

  “Nooooo fairrrr.” Abby cracked up. “I’m in heels.”

  Claire ran outside, dashed through the lot, and smacked the back of the limo.

  “Nice running, babygirl.” Conner tossed an unlit cigarette in his mouth. “Guess those legs of yours work as good as they look.”

  Claire turned away before he saw her blush. “Where’s Abby?”

  She felt a tap on her shoulder and whipped her head around, smashing right into the actress. “Ahhhhhh!”

  “Ahhhhhhh!” Abby screamed back.

  They burst out laughing.

  A uniformed driver opened the door and everyone slid inside. Flashing blue lights wrapped around the ceiling and pulsed to the beat of the club music that Conner cranked on the radio.

  “Take. It. Off!” he chanted as the driver pulled out of the lot. “Take. It. Off!”

  Claire could hardly look at Abby, she was so embarrassed. How was she going to get out of this?

  But without hesitation, Abby reached under her skirt, slid off her black thong, and whipped it at the security guard as they drove through the gates.

  Claire and Conner burst into hysterics at the sight of her underwear flying toward the guard’s face and landing on his cap.

  “I can’t believe you did that,” Claire managed to say when she finally caught her breath. Her stomach ached from laughing so hard.

  “Babygirl, you are wild!” Conner pushed back the sleeves of his black corduroy blazer.

  Claire checked her phone while they relived the moment the guard swatted the dangling thong off his head.

  It was almost eight o’clock and still there were no messages from Cam.

  OMG! Massie!

  Claire was supposed to call her twenty-five minutes ago. She quickly pulled up her number and her thumb hovered over the send button, but for some reason she couldn’t press it.

  “Who are you calling?” Conner leapt across the seat and squeezed beside her. He smelled like shaving cream.

  “Just a friend.” She sighed.

  “Not a boyfriend, right?” Conner pressed his knee against Claire’s bare leg and burrowed deep into her soul with his olive-green eyes. Her intestines did a three-sixty. Was Conner Foley flirting with her?

  “Nope, just a friend.” Claire closed her phone. “She was going to meet us out, but I think it’s too late now.”