Premiere

by Melody Carlson

  Mom stands and smiles, quickly introducing each of us, but it seems that Helen Hudson is fully aware of our identity as she ushers us into her office, which thankfully has morecomfortable furniture to sit in.

  “Tell me about yourself.” She directs this to Paige while leaning back in her chair with her hands folded in front of her. She studies my sister, like a lion might watch its prey before pouncing. Paige seems oblivious as she begins to chatter away. And I suppress the urge to yawn since this kind of monologue is way too familiar to me. Paige goes into great detail about her interest in fashion and popular culture and film and television and yada-yada-blah-blah-blah.

  But what holds my attention is how intently Helen Hudson seems to be listening—and yet it’s as if she’s somewhere else too. Her brow creases and I feel as if I can see the wheel mechanisms turning around in her head. Although I have no idea about what she’s thinking.

  “Yes, yes,” she says quickly, actually cutting my sister off in mid-sentence. “Now answer a few questions for me, Paige Forrester.”

  “Sure.” Paige recrosses her long, slender legs, sits up a bit straighter, flashes another bright smile, and waits.

  Helen smiles back, almost in a catty way. “So tell me, Paige, are you much into partying?” Her brows arch in a knowing way.

  Paige looks slightly stumped as she shrugs, glancing at Mom and me as if we can help. “How do you mean exactly?”

  The room is quiet now and I’m having flashbacks to a couple of years ago when Paige and her friends were running wild, drinking and staying out late even on school nights. Then Paige’s grades dropped, and my mom put her foot down and grounded Paige until she graduated. It wasn’t exactly a happy era in our house, but I was relieved to see Mom acting like a parent.

  “Oh, I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.” Helen leans forward, studying Paige as if she’s peering through a microscope. “Are you involved with a party crowd at all? Do you go clubbing? Social drinking? You know the sort of thing I mean. Friends, late nights, let the good times roll.”

  “Well, yes, I know what you mean. But, no…I’m not really like that. I’ll admit I went through a little bit of a wild spell during my senior year in high school…after Dad died.” She looks at Mom with uncertainty. “But I’m not so much into that now. It’s not like I’m a hermit or a wet blanket or anything. And I do have friends who still like to party and sometimes I hang out with them, but…” She frowns with uncertainty. “Does that mean you’re not interested? I mean…was this going to be some kind of Laguna Beach or The Hills or that new show, Malibu Beach? Because I can act like I’m a partier if—”

  Helen Hudson laughs. “No, no, that’s not what I’m going for. Not at all. You see, this is a show I began to put together last summer. And I had a popular celebrity lined up—I won’t mention her name—but she got arrested for driving under the influence and she’s only seventeen. It pretty much put the brakes on the project. By the way, how old are you?”

  “Nineteen. Nineteen and a half.”

  “So you’re still a teen, and I’m sure teen girls would relate to you.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Paige says with confidence, “I’m sure they would.”

  “So I can see this is worth a shot.”

  Paige is beaming. “A shot?”

  “Yes. I’d like to do a screen test with you first. Then we’ll revise the package and do another pitch and—” She waves her hands as she interrupts herself. “Never mind about that now.” She puts on a pair of purple-rimmed glasses and begins writing something down on paper.

  Paige elbows me and I can tell by her expression she’s just bursting to talk, but she’s exercising self-control.

  “What sort of show are you planning?” our mom ventures.

  Helen looks up blankly. “Oh, I thought I told you.”

  “No, not really.”

  “Oh, well, if the screen test delivers and if we come to an agreement, and if the revised pitch is received how I expect it will be—because we’ve already got sponsors lined up and the network was onboard—Anyway, if all goes well, Paige will be hosting a reality show that’s targeted at a teen audience. The focus will be fashion, of course, and it will all be shot on location…so some travel will be involved. I thought the concept might need a big name to launch it, but more recently I decided that if I could find just the right girl, and if I knew that she was stable and mature and with no juvenile record, we could move forward.” She glances at Mom. “Trust me, I already checked on this or I wouldn’t be wasting my time now. You’d be surprised how many young people already have police records.”

  Paige laughs nervously.

  “My hope was that we could launch the girl right along with the show. It’s not that hard really—not if the ingredients are right. And when I saw Paige on the news last night, I thought, ‘There’s my girl.’” She studies Paige again. “I’m feeling very hopeful.”

  Okay, I’m sitting here feeling practically invisible, not to mention totally unnecessary. Like, what a waste of my time. Why did I have to get dragged in here for this? Sure, my sister is pretty and talented and all that stuff, but why torture me like this? Then, as if reading my thoughts, Helen turns to me. “And you probably wonder why you’re here…Erin, is it?”

  “Yeah.” I force a wimpy smile.

  “Well, I saw you in the background with your camera and I thought how natural you two girls looked together. And when I heard you were sisters, I thought, ‘Ah-hah—that might just work.’”

  “Work?” I give her an uncertain look.

  “Yes, I think Paige could use a sidekick.”

  “Well, she’s gotten a few kicks in,” I confess.

  Helen laughs. “But you two do get along, don’t you? Your mother said you did.”

  “Of course,” Paige assures her. “We’re actually pretty good friends.”

  “Well, most of the time,” I admit. “But when we’re not, you don’t want to be around to hear it.”

  Helen winks at me. “I like your honesty, Erin.”

  “To be totally honest,” I continue, “I’m not that comfortable in front of the camera. I mean, I’m flattered you’d consider me. But I’m really more of a behind-the-scenes girl.”

  Helen frowns. “Seriously? Are you saying you wouldn’t want to be a star, Erin?”

  I shrug. “Not really.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Well, how about you?” I challenge her. “Do you like being in the limelight with a camera pointing at you?”

  Helen smiles, then nods in an understanding way. “I see your point.”

  I relax a little.

  “You mentioned travel would be involved,” Mom says now.

  “Yes. I’m thinking of the fashion world at large. New York, Milan, Tokyo, London, Paris…” Helen waves her hands. “I see this show as being a form of enrichment. Because I, for one, am getting a bit weary of some of the senseless shows that teens are tuning into. I’m hoping that teen sleaze has seen its day. I want this to be a show that teaches as much as it entertains. I know that teens are interested in fashion and I’m hoping this show will expose them to something beyond some of the common trash they’re watching on MTV.” She makes a dramatic pause, looking directly at my sister. “Paige will cover fashion events wherever they’re occurring. She’ll offer her opinions as well as advice and tips about style, and she’ll do interviews with models, designers, and anyone linked with the fashion world. She’ll basically generate enthusiasm toward style and fashion. The show will be called On the Runway. Perhaps it will be On the Runway with Paige Forrester. Something to that effect.”

  “That all sounds good…in theory.” Mom’s voice has that edge of hesitation in it. “But I’m a little concerned about that kind of travel. Paige is only nineteen and—”

  “Nineteen and a half,” Paige reminds her. “And I think the travel sounds delicious. I think the whole concept is absolutely brilliant.” Paige’s blue eyes, normally bright,
now glitter with excitement and her smile is so wide I think her cheeks must be aching. But she sits perfectly, legs neatly crossed, hands folded in her lap; the quintessential lady.

  “Thank you.” Helen turns her attention back to Mom. “The show will need a producer,” she tells her. “Perhaps you’d be interested. That way you could keep an eye on her.”

  I can feel Paige slumping ever so slightly, not that anyone would notice, but I can tell some of the wind just got sucked out of her sails. She is not into having Mom along as her chaperone. I actually think it’s pretty funny.

  “I appreciate the thought,” Mom says quickly. “But I’m sure you can’t guarantee how long a show like this will run—if it makes it at all. And because I’m the sole supporter of our household, I feel I need to stick with Channel Five.”

  “I totally understand.”

  Mom glances at me. “But I do like your idea of including Erin in—”

  “Mom!” I give her a warning look.

  “I’m sorry, Erin, but I think you and your sister would be a good team.”

  “But I—”

  “And I have an idea,” Mom continues as if I’m not even in the room. “Erin is actually quite good with the camera. And I understand her desire to stay on the sidelines—she probably gets that kind of shyness from me. But how about including her in the show as part of the camera crew.”

  Helen slowly nods. “You know, that’s not a bad idea. One sister in front of the camera, one sister behind it.” She peers at me again. “But how would you feel about being filmed while you are filming? Not all the time, of course, but occasionally.”

  I don’t even know what to say. Mostly I’d like to make a fast break for the door.

  “Well, we don’t have to resolve everything today,” Helen says. “Here.” She gives Paige a small card. “You give these guys a call and they’ll set up your screen test. And I’ll be in touch with you next week.” She stands now, as if cueing us that this interview is over.

  Paige smiles so big that I wonder if her cheeks ever get tired. Then she reaches out and shakes Helen’s hand, warmly thanking her, and then Helen ushers us out and tells us to have a good weekend and that she’ll be in touch. We’re barely outside of the building when Paige lets out a loud whoop. “I can’t believe it!” she squeals, “I cannot believe it!”

  “Don’t start celebrating just yet,” Mom warns her. “There are still some bridges to cross first.”

  But Paige looks like she’s walking—make that strutting—on air as we head for the car. On the other hand, my feet feel like lead weights as I try to figure a graceful exit out of what’s sure to turn into a catastrophe, for me anyway. Because, for the life of me, I can’t see how I would possibly enjoy being involved in a show like this. It’s like being forced to play Barbies again. And wouldn’t this mean I’d have to give up film school? As much as I’d hate to play the spoiler, I can’t agree to something like this. Hopefully the whole thing will blow over, and although I’ll act as if I’m sad for Paige’s sake, I’ll be extremely thankful for my own.

  Chapter 4

  "No way!" Mollie shrieks when I tell her the news on the phone. “Paige is going to have her own show? Oh, I’m so jealous. Does she need anyone else, Erin?”

  Then I explain Helen Hudson’s plan to use me as camera girl. “But I don’t see how I can do it, Mollie. I mean, fashion is so not me. And there’s film school. Really the whole idea is ridiculous.”

  “Wow, your enthusiasm is underwhelming.”

  “Sorry,” I tell her. “But I really don’t want to be involved.”

  “Maybe I could be the camera girl,” she suggests.

  “You don’t even know how to use the camera on your phone,” I point out.

  “You could give me a quick course on cameras. I’m a fast learner when I set my mind to it.”

  Oddly enough, Mollie’s genuine interest in this project is making me reconsider. “I suppose this experience might look good on my résumé,” I say hesitantly.

  “Duh. How many eighteen-year-olds do you know who get to film a TV show? Seriously, why would you pass up this opportunity? But if you do, I still get dibs, okay? Not that I’m advising you to. Really, Erin, think about it. Why would you give up the chance to be on the camera crew? I wonder how much they’ll pay you.”

  “But I’m afraid I’ll be more like a token camera girl…like a piece of the scenery. They probably just want me to look like Paige’s little plain-Jane sister, something to make Paige look even more beautiful and glamorous…as if she needs that.”

  “I hate it when you put yourself down like that, Erin. You’re a pretty girl and you know it.”

  “I know it?” I look at my image in the mirror above my bureau dresser and make a face. My hair, which looks dull and dark and probably needs to be washed, is pulled back into a tight ponytail—not my best look. My face, void of makeup as usual, looks kind of pasty and in need of some sunshine. And that zit that had been threatening to erupt finally did, and right now it looks like a red headlight in the middle of my forehead.

  “If you’d just put a little more time into your appearance—”

  “What?” I say harshly. “Then I could look like Paige?”

  “No. You could look like Erin…only better.”

  “But that’s not me, Mollie. You know that. I’m just not into that.”

  “You used to be,” she reminds me.

  I don’t respond to this. I’m afraid I know where she’s going. Unfortunately, I can’t think of anything to say that will stop her.

  “When are you going to get over him?” she asks me pointblank.

  “What do you mean?” I decide to play dumb.

  “Blake,” she says in a flat voice. “When will you let it go?”

  “I have let it go,” I say. “That’s like ancient history.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “It is. I hardly ever think of him anymore.” Even as I say this, I open my top drawer and remove a framed photo of Blake Josephson and me at senior prom. It was taken just two weeks before he broke up with me…about eight months ago, not that I’m counting.

  “I mean, it was understandable for you to go into a funk then, Erin. You guys had been together for almost two years…I know you were hurting.”

  “And your point is?”

  “My point is, move on.”

  “I have moved on. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I slip the photo back into the drawer, burying it beneath a tangled mess of underwear and T-shirts.

  “If you’ve really moved on, how come you won’t go out with Lionel Stevens?”

  “Lionel and I are just good friends,” I point out. “And that’s how I want to keep it.”

  “Fine. But let’s talk about why you don’t seem to care about your appearance anymore. Why have you let yourself go?”

  “Thanks, a lot. With friends like you—”

  “Come on, you know what I mean. You used to care more. Now you’re just sort of, well, laid back.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to be superficial. Maybe I happen to like the natural look.”

  “And that’s fine, but you could do it with a little more panache.”

  “Sometimes I think you and I were swapped at birth, Mollie. You should be Paige’s sister instead of me.”

  “Hey, I’m just being honest. If you can’t take some constructive criticism from your best friend who—”

  “Okay, Mollie. Thank you. I get it. You think I’m a slob. So does Paige.” I feel both angry and hurt. “I only called you to tell you about the show, not to get lectured.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her voice softens. “It’s just that I care about you and sometimes it seems like you’re still hung up on Blake. That worries me.”

  I take in a deep breath, shoot up a very quick prayer, and decide to get honest. “Okay…you might be right. I try not to think about him, but I guess I still feel hurt. I mean, we were so close. I thought he really loved me…and I loved him. H
e seemed like such a strong Christian, and I probably thought someday we’d get married.”

  “I know, Erin. I thought the same things about you guys—you were like the perfect couple. And I couldn’t believe it when he did what he did.”

  What Blake did was cheat on me with Sonya Michaels. He claimed she had been the instigator, that she had flirted with him first, but the fact of the matter was that he went for the bait. And who could blame him? Sonya is gorgeous. But she’s certainly not what you’d call a girl of faith. Not even close. And when Blake started dating her, he stopped going to youth group. I’m not sure which part of the breakup hurts the most—being dumped for a girl who’s much hotter than me or seeing Blake take steps away from his faith. The whole thing hurts. And Mollie knows this.

  “So…anyway…I wasn’t sure if I should tell you this or not, but Tony told me that he’s been talking to Blake.”

  Tony is Mollie’s boyfriend. He’s also Blake’s best friend. Or rather, he used to be. Tony was so miffed at Blake that they quit talking too. Just one more sad side effect of our breakup. I guess I should be happy for Blake’s sake that they’re talking again. But I don’t even know how to react to this. So I simply say, “Oh.”

  “Anyway, Tony said that Blake has been talking to Sonya about coming to the college fellowship group and there’s a pretty good chance they’ll come.”

  “Oh…” Again, I don’t know what to say. I don’t know whether to be encouraged or terrified of seeing Blake again. Especially when I thought I’d finally gotten over missing him.

  “So I just thought you should know, Erin. Kind of a heads-up.”

  “Sure. I appreciate it.”

  “I almost wasn’t going to tell you because I was worried that you might decide to skip out on it…”

  The thought is already going through my mind, but I don’t confess it. “Why would I do that?”

  “To avoid him.”

  I sigh. “Don’t worry, Mollie. I’m not going to let Blake and Sonya drive me away from fellowship.”

  “Oh, good.” She sounds genuinely relieved. “So are you still picking me up at seven?”