“Outta here before I shove a pumpkin ball up your ass!” Abby yelled.
Claire burst out laughing. “What’s a pumpkin ball?”
Abby cracked up. “I dunno.” Tears rolled down her face. “It just came out.”
The girls were in hysterics.
“Oh, wait.” Abby spun around and faced the mirror. “Are these the girls you blew off the night we went to Boi?”
Claire sobered up immediately. “I didn’t forget to invite them. I was trying to call—” She faced Massie. “I was trying to call you when—”
“That’s when Conner took your phone, right?” Abby was still laughing. “The night I tagged the security guard with my underwear.”
The memory of Abby whipping her thong out the limo window cracked Claire up all over again. She willed herself to stop but couldn’t. Abby’s “har-har-har”ing was contagious.
Massie’s cheeks were red and her amber eyes flickered.
Abby wiped the tears from her eyes, then checked herself in the mirror. A silver band of glitter streaked across her cheek like a meteor shower.
“Abby, stop laughing!” Gina grabbed a handful of tissues. “Your mascara is running.”
“Doesn’t it sound like Conner likes Claire?” Abby asked, oblivious to Gina’s frustration.
Claire silently begged her to stop. She had never seen Massie look so furious. Her cheeks were red, her eyes were all squinty, and her fists were clenched. “I seriously think he likes you,” Abby continued.
“He doesn’t, okay?” Claire’s tone was flat.
“Well, it’s not like he likes me,” Abby announced. “That’s for sure.”
“I’m sure Cam would be happy to know you have a celebrity crush.” Massie picked her cuticle.
Claire jumped out of her seat. “Please don’t say anything to him. There’s nothing going on, I swear.”
Massie smirked.
Claire’s hands suddenly felt icy.
“We’re live in a minute thirty.” Hal pounded on the trailer door.
“Come on, Abby,” Massie pleaded. “Just a quick interview. We won’t do a close-up.”
Claire knew she could have pressed the issue and could have possibly convinced Abby to say yes. But she didn’t. This fight had nothing to do with her, and it felt great not to be involved.
“Okay, if it will help you guys, I’d be happy to do it.” Abby smiled.
“Yes!” Massie lifted her palm and high-fived Alicia.
“Really?” Claire breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, she had met someone who understood the true meaning of friendship.
Abby pulled away and shook her head. “Ha! How funny would it be if I was actually like that?”
“What?”
“I said, no cameras!” she growled. “And I meant it.” “Three minutes. That’s all we need.” Massie clasped her hands together. “Please! Our entire futures depend on it.”
“Eighty seconds!” Hal announced.
“Kuh-laire, do something,” Massie pleaded.
But Claire froze.
“Forget it.” Alicia tugged Massie’s red cashmere T-shirt. “We’ll find something else to shoot.”
“Like ourselves.” Massie sighed.
“Sixty seconds.” Hal stuck his head inside. “Do you girls have a plan?”
Massie suddenly lifted her head. “Yup. Let’s go!”
“Thanks a lot,” Alicia uttered as she followed her out.
“Wait!” Claire called.
But it was too late. They were gone.
Abby closed her eyes so Gina could get back to work. “I bet they’re big losers back home.”
Claire sighed. “You have no idea.”
GELDING STUDIOS
CLAIRE LYONS’S TRAILER
Monday, March 23rd
6:29 A.M.
“Access denied.” A bald security guard held out his arm and stopped Massie from entering Claire’s trailer.
After everything she had just been through, there was no way some wannabe cop was going to stand in her way.
“Believe me, I don’t want to go in there: I have more important things to do.” She pointed to her cameraman. “So if you would take Claire’s personal items and set them up for her in the bathroom, I’d really appreciate it.” Massie handed him a plastic Rite-Aid bag.
He peeked inside, then quickly handed it back. “Make it fast.”
“Thank you.” Alicia clapped her hands.
“Fifteen seconds,” the producer announced.
“Let’s go.” Massie led the way.
“Wait, no cameras,” the security guard barked.
“You tell that to the millions of people watching The Daily Grind.” Massie opened the door. “We’re about to go live and I can’t be in two places at once.”
Massie prayed to Gawd the security guard would fall for her lame explanation, even though it made zero sense.
“The Daily Grind?” he asked. “Mother loves that show.”
“I’ll give you an autograph as soon as we’re done.” Massie winked. “For Mother.”
He smiled and returned her wink.
The inside of the trailer was more chic than Massie had imagined. Sisal rugs covered most of the floor space, and the walls were adorned with vintage movie posters. A cream-colored couch lined one side and a desk and kitch-enette lined the other.
“Eight seconds.”
“Ehmagawd, here.” Massie handed the bag to Alicia. “Do it, quick!”
“Why do I have to do it?”
“Because someone has to be on camera when the show starts.”
“Why can’t it be me?”
“In three…”
Massie shoved Alicia aside.
“Two… and…” The producer shook his finger.
“What’s up, Merri-Lee? Massie Block here from the set of Dial L for Loser. Claire Lyons is in makeup and didn’t want us to show the world what she looked like with a naked face. Can you blame her?” She giggled. “But she was nice enough to give us an exclusive on her trailer. You’d be surprised how much you can learn about a person by looking through their things.”
“Look what I found,” Alicia called. The camera whipped around to find her. She was pointing to a corkboard that hung above the glass desk. Textbooks and binders covered most of the surface, reminding Massie that she had a ton of ah-nnoying history homework to do after the show, thanks to Mrs. Mendel, her tutor.
“Claire has pictures of her friends all over the place,” Alicia said to the camera.
There was a photo of Cam in his soccer uniform; Jay, Judi, and Todd in their family room; and several of the Pretty Committee, some of which had been taken at Lake Placid, but most of which showed the girls cracking up at Massie’s Friday night sleepovers.
In the center of the collage was a shot of Claire with her arm around Massie. They were sitting on the steps of the Blocks’ estate. Claire’s striped scarf was wrapped around both of their necks, and they were giving each other bunny ears. It had been taken one month earlier, yet it seemed like a lifetime ago.
“Ew, look,” Massie squealed. She pointed at the mess in Claire’s bathroom. The camera zoomed in. “Let’s talk trash!”
“G-ross!” Alicia ran into frame and put on her best I’m-so-disgusted face.
Massie knelt down and rummaged through the mess on the floor. “It appears as though our lead actress has been suffering from a bad case of nerves.” She held up a pink bottle of Pepto-Bismol. “And judging from this big tube of Oxy, she also has some major zits.”
“And bad breath.” Alicia held up a bottle of Listerine.
“And a mustache.” Massie held up a box of Jolene face bleach.
“And bladder-control issues.” Alicia held up a package of Depends undergarments.
“And female baldness.” Massie displayed a box of ladies’ Rogaine.
“And dandruff.” Alicia held up a bottle of Head & Shoulders.
“And athlete’s foot.” Massie sprayed some Desenex.
>
“And jock itch.” Alicia burst out laughing as she threw a can of Cruex over her shoulder.
“The cool thing about ‘talking trash’”—Massie made air quotes—“is that you get information about someone that they would never give you in a regular interview.”
“You can say that again.” Alicia threw a box of super-plus-size tampons across the floor.
All of a sudden, there was a loud knock. Had the security guard finally realized he had been tricked? Had he gotten Claire? Were they about to get shut down?
“Who is it?” Massie asked. “This is what live TV is all about, right? You never know what’s going to happen,” she explained to her viewers.
“Claire, it’s Conner.”
Massie and Alicia grabbed the handle at the same time and threw open the door.
“Velvet?”
“Rooty!” Massie pulled the actor inside the trailer like they had been BFFs for years. Maybe a rumor would spread that they were a couple.
“Hey, Conner.” Alicia tilted her head to one side and batted her long lashes.
“Hey, babygirls, is Claire here? We’re supposed to rehearse the homeroom scene.” He scanned the trailer. “Hey, what’s with the cameras?”
“We’re live on The Daily Grind,” Massie explained.
The producer started “whoop-dee-do”-ing his finger, which meant it was time for them to wrap it up.
“Before we go…” Massie spoke as fast as she could. “Tell the people at home what you do to prepare for your role as the ahdorable Brad Douglas.”
“This is an easy one for me because Brad is a good-looking, popular guy.” Conner pulled a toothpick out of his back pocket and stuck it in his mouth. “He is tough on the outside and a sweetheart on the inside.” He flipped the toothpick with his tongue. “So, all Conner has to do is show up and his work is done.”
“One last thing.” Alicia ignored the producer’s swirling finger. “Are those new Conner Foley jeans? I notice the stitching is white on this pair.”
Massie hated that Alicia had noticed that before she did.
“Good eye, babygirl.” Conner spun around and shook his butt for the camera. It was a total Derrington move and Massie suddenly found herself missing him. Hopefully, Kristen and Dylan were keeping close tabs on him.
“Conner gets a new pair of custom-made CF jeans every time he stars in a new movie,” he explained. “I have nineteen pairs so far.”
Hal twirled his finger so quickly, he seemed ready for liftoff.
Massie took the cue. “Thank you, Rooty—I mean, Conner.” She turned to the camera. “Well, that’s all for today. I’ll be back tomorrow with more ‘trash talk’ and interviews from the set of Dial L for Loser. Until then, I’m Massie Block—”
“And I’m Alicia Rivera, and we heart you.”
“Aaaand we’re out!” Hal announced. “Great show, everyone.”
“Thanks for the interview, Rooty,” Massie cooed.
“The pleasure was mine, Velvet.” Conner took the toothpick out of his mouth and crushed it. He was about to toss it in the garbage can but suddenly stopped himself. “Who blew up the pharmacy?”
Massie was tempted to tell him the truth. But what if he thought they were mean? Or worse, what if word got back to Merri-Lee? She’d know the segment had been faked and they’d be fired. Unfortunately, Conner would have to believe Claire was a nervous, stinky, hairy, incontinent, balding, flaky, itchy mess. Just like the rest of America would.
GELDING STUDIOS
CRAFT SERVICE TENT
Monday, March 23rd
7:15 A.M.
Massie and Alicia were celebrating their Conner interview with toasted bagels and sugar-free hot chocolates. Neither had mentioned the piece they did on Claire, which Massie took as a good sign. Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal after all.
Yap-yap-yap…
Yap-yap-yap…
“Hey, Dyl,” she answered with a genuine smile.
“Heyyyy!” Alicia shouted. She pressed her ear against Massie’s phone and listened in.
“Hold on while I get Kristen.”
“’Kay,” Massie and Alicia said at the same time.
“Apple-C!” they shouted, then high-fived each other.
Two guys covered in paint at a nearby table shot them dirty looks, then returned to their large coffees and newspapers.
“Whoever said making movies was glamorous ahb-viously never saw the behind-the-scenes people,” Massie whispered.
“Point.” Alicia held up her finger, then quickly lowered it. “Didn’t mean to steal Claire’s word.”
Massie suddenly felt less guilty about what they had done. Claire was hardly innocent. She’d practically stolen their identities, then refused to help them get an Abby interview. The more she thought about it, the more she realized Claire deserved exactly what she got.
“Hey.” Kristen was suddenly on the line.
“Did you guys see the show today?” Alicia bit her bottom lip.
“Given!” Kristen answered.
“Everyone is talking about it,” Dylan gushed.
Massie pushed her bagel aside. “How dead are we?”
“Dead?” Dylan sounded shocked. “Puh-lease, you got an exclusive with Conner. Not even Entertainment Tonight did that.”
“Really?” She popped a sesame seed in her mouth. “Did your mom like it?”
“Loved it!” Dylan insisted. “And she can’t believe Claire let you shoot that stuff in her trailer. No one can.” She paused. “By the way, is she copying my bran diet?”
“Maybe.” Massie couldn’t bring herself to tell them what she had done.
“Ehmagawd, and get this,” Kristen cried. “I heard a few girls at OCD bought the same black striped Keds Claire wore in her interview the other day. She’s, like, a real star. It’s so weird.”
“I know, aren’t you glad we let her in the Pretty Committee?” Dylan added. “Everyone will be so jealous that we’re BFFs with an actress.”
“Puh-lease.” Massie punched her bagel. “No one’s a real star until they’re in US Weekly.”
“How’s Josh?” Alicia chewed her coffee stirrer into a gnarled clump.
“Ahdorable.” Kristen chuckled. “He wrote this comic book called Bleacher Creatures. It’s about me and Dylan, only we’re these sexy soccer fans who live under the bleachers and—”
“Am I in it?” Alicia’s eyes widened.
“Uh…” Dylan giggled nervously. “Not yet. But that doesn’t mean—”
“What about the protests?”
“Da Crew has disbanded,” Kristen explained. “Apparently, Strawberry wanted to join Layne’s protests.”
“And a vote for Layne is a vote for Claire,” Dylan added. “Which is good for us.”
Massie couldn’t believe Claire had become so important to the cause.
“What about the Country Club?” Massie asked.
“No word yet, but I’m sure once they hear about your Conner interview they’ll be back with us,” Kristen said.
“Any news about anyone else?” Massie couldn’t bring herself to ask specifically about Derrington. She didn’t want to sound like Claire, whose obsession with Cam made her look so desperate and needy.
“The spring clothes are starting to go on display, and there are a lot of bold colors and ruffles this season,” Dylan reported. “Oh, and wedge heels are gonna be big.”
“And Norma—the pedicure lady you love?—is on maternity leave,” Kristen said.
“Anything else?” Massie pressed. “You know, about the guys or anything?”
“Oh, a time has been set for the board meeting. Six o’clock on April third.”
“Who knows?” Massie examined the ends of her extensions. “We may not go back. You know, if this whole reporting thing keeps going well.”
“Point,” Alicia said.
“So there’s nothing else, about the guys, the soccer games, or Briarwood?”
“We’re meeting the team for pizza
after practice tonight.” Kristen sounded a little too excited. “Josh wants to show us a few new Bleacher Creatures sketches.”
“Tell him to put us in it,” Alicia piped up.
“We’ll try,” Dylan said, as if she had just been asked to stop eating for a month.
“Have fun.” Massie tried to sound sincere. “Tell the guys we say hi.”
“’Kay, call us later.”
“Can’t.” Massie winked at Alicia. “We have plans with Conner and, well, you know how it is.”
“There he is now. We gotta go.” Alicia closed her phone.
Massie looked up, in case she had been serious. But Conner wasn’t there. Claire was.
Her eyes were red and her skin was blotchy. Abby’s arm was around her shoulders, steering her toward an empty table. As they passed by Massie and Alicia, Abby tightened her grip.
“Did they see us?” Massie asked.
“Hard to say. Should we go over and say hi? You know, to see if they’re mad?”
Massie wasn’t sure what to do. What if Claire told her off in front of Abby, her hair muse? She’d never recover. Gawd, this whole thing was so ah-nnoying! If Abby only knew how many people worshipped Massie back home. She’d drop Claire faster than an itchy mohair sweater.
But if Massie ignored them, she’d never know if she and Alica had gotten away with their ‘trash talk’ segment. And the suspense was killing her.
“Let’s go.” Massie grabbed Alicia’s thin wrist. There was no reason to be nervous. It was Kuh-laire, after all: the girl who’d worn Keds and overalls on her first day of school. The girl with lopsided bangs. The girl who ate candy for breakfast. The girl who thought cameras were cooler than credit cards. Puh-lease! If Claire said anything to Massie, it had better be “Thank you for giving me life.”
Then, suddenly, Rupert appeared.
“Brilliant!” he shouted as he raced to Claire’s table. “I haven’t seen tears like that since Dakota Fanning’s performance in Uptown Girls. Truly remarkable.”
“Conner thought you were great too.” The actor mussed Claire’s hair as he joined them.
“Thanks.” She lowered her eyes.
Massie felt like she was watching a play, so close to the action, yet completely removed at the same time. She sighed, hoping someone would acknowledge her, but they were too busy fawning all over Dakota Lyons.
Dial L for Loser Page 15
