“I told you. I’m with Fiona.”
Fiona? I don’t think there’s a Fiona in our grade. I don’t think there’s a Fiona in our school.
“Where are you?” She laughs, still on the phone. “What? I can’t hear you. Dad, you’re breaking up. I’ll call you later.” She hits End and puts the phone back in her pocket.
“What was that all about?” I ask her.
“Oh, you know, just parent stuff.”
I can tell she doesn’t want to talk about it, so I let it go because I, of all people, understand not wanting to talk about something.
“Come on, let’s walk over to Wooster. I have a feeling we’ll be able to see more from there,” Dina says, and I follow along. There’s something about Dina that makes you trust her, or at least want to trust her. It’s like she’s older or wiser or something, or maybe she just does good research.
It takes us a few minutes to break through the crowds on the sidewalks, but we do, and when we get onto Wooster, we get a pretty good spot. I think we’re close to where we need to be, because I see even more bright lights and sound equipment.
“What do we do now?” I ask Dina.
“We wait,” she says.
It starts raining again, and after a few minutes I can’t take it anymore. I’m antsy to get this whole meeting-Sasha-thing started, and on top of that I’m anxious and upset about Kendall and Molly being in the city with their moms without me. I don’t know which is worse.
“So what’s our plan?” I ask Dina. I sound like a little kid, especially because I just asked her basically the same thing a few minutes ago. “What are we going to say to her?”
“Well, we should say first thing that we go to Rockwood Hills. That’ll give her a reason to talk to us.” Dina’s so confident about this, like she’s done it before, like nothing ever fazes her. I swear she’d probably walk right up to the White House and ring the bell.
“There she is!” I yell, and all these people turn around and stare at me like I’m some kind of crazy stalker. It’s Dina who is the stalker, who found Sasha and then got us here—and it’s actually pretty cool.
Sasha’s coming out of her trailer wearing a slinky red dress and skinny heels. It looks so funny because it’s raining. People are holding umbrellas for her as she walks.
“Let’s move closer,” Dina says.
We push our way through the crowds and get as close as we can to Sasha and the street with stores and apartment buildings that make up the main set. This is one of those moments that’s big and amazing, and I have a feeling I will want to replay it in my head over and over again when I get home.
Dina bends down and reaches into her backpack, kind of making a scene, taking things out and putting things back in. I wonder if people are going to think we’re a security risk.
“The yearbook!” I yelp as soon as I see it, drawing even more attention to ourselves.
Dina nods. “Yup, we can hold it up! She’ll be totally intrigued. Don’t you think?”
I nod. I want to hug her for thinking of the yearbook at the perfect time. It’s almost like this is too easy, because there’s a minute when Sasha is just standing there waving to fans, like she’s happy we’re all here. And it’s so weird to think that she’s really only four years older than me, and she has a TV show and now she’s going to be in a movie. When she went to Rockwood Hills, her life was probably similar to mine. I mean, similar before everything got messed up. But now it’s totally different.
“Sasha Preston!” Dina yells. “Sasha Preston! We go to your old school! Rockwood Hills Middle School!”
Now the rest of the people are really starting to seem annoyed, looking at us like we’re dumb kids, but the thing is, Sasha’s kind of a kid, too. And we’re not dumb kids; we’re here for a project. It’s not like these people are supposed to be here, either; they’re loitering on a movie set, just like we are.
Dina stands on her tiptoes. “We have your old yearbook!”
Everyone’s facial expressions change after she says that, and they all turn to look at Dina and whisper to one another. I wonder if the yearbook is worth a lot of money. I hope someone doesn’t try to steal it and put it on eBay.
Sasha still hasn’t really turned around.
“Sasha!” Dina yells again.
Uh-oh. I don’t think this is working. I can’t tell if Sasha hears us or not, because she’s just looking out into the crowd. And then a minute later, she’s walking away with the umbrella holders. She’s walking past the trailers, over to a totally separate area.
“See, that’s another amazing thing about movies and movie sets—like there weren’t already a million amazing things,” Dina says. “The whole craft services thing, oh my God. They have to constantly provide snacks and treats and meals to everyone who’s working on the movie. It’s, like, the best food ever. Come to think of it, I’m hungry. We should go over there to find Sasha and to get some food, too!”
“Um, that’d be psycho,” I say. I don’t want to admit this to Dina, but I’m getting more and more soaked as we stand out here, and I think it’s ruining my mood. Even though I was excited and happy before, it seems to be fading now. And if we actually do get to talk to Sasha, I’ll probably be too scared to even open my mouth. There has to be an easier way to make a good video. “Besides, calling out to her didn’t work.”
“Don’t worry,” Dina says. “We got here. We’ll make this happen.”
For some stupid reason, I believe her. That’s so Dina—making things happen. I wish I could be like that, instead of just dwelling on all the bad stuff.
A few minutes later, the crowd breaks a bit and we get to move closer to the set. There’s a group of people walking back and forth on the sidewalk, but they’re being guided. They keep stopping and then starting, walking the same stretch of sidewalk over and over again. It’s all lit up with these huge silver lights.
“The extras!” Dina exclaims, again, calling too much attention to ourselves. “That’s what we’ll do. That’s our way to get to Sasha.”
“Huh?” It’s raining harder now, and I pull up my hood.
“Come on. Follow me,” Dina says. And I realize that even though she’s new and I’m usually in charge, I kind of follow her around a lot. Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?
Right when the guys with the headsets are turned away for a second, we sneak onto that really lit-up stretch of sidewalk. We join the group of people walking back and forth and start walking with them.
“What are we doing?” I tug on Dina’s raincoat sleeve. “I feel really, really weird. Can we just go?”
“We’re pretending we’re extras,” she whispers. “Okay? Just act natural. Go with the flow. Thank God for your Burberry coat; we fit right in.”
“Glad I could help,” I say. “But Sasha doesn’t even seem to be in this scene. How is this getting us closer to her?”
“Just wait. It’s better than standing out in the crowd.”
We walk back and forth for at least fifteen minutes, and nothing happens at all. It’s really boring being an extra, because all we’re doing is walking on a sidewalk and they keep making us do it over and over again. I can’t even tell if they’re shooting us, because nobody looks over to what we’re doing.
“Why haven’t you girls been to makeup?” someone yells.
We look around.
“You two. You haven’t been to makeup. We’re going to need to do this scene all over again.”
“Oh, um.” Dina throws up her hands. “Yeah, I guess we got shuffled away from there.”
What is she talking about? Is she out of her mind?
“Okay, go on, go on.” The guy shakes his head. He’s tall and super skinny, wearing all black, and he keeps fiddling with his headset. “Go that way, ask for Julian, and be back here ASAP.”
“Will do!” Dina yells, and grabs my hand.
“Do you know where we’re supposed to go?” I talk through my teeth.
“No idea.
But we don’t want them to find out we’re not extras,” she says. “And besides, we have more important work to do.”
I nod. I can’t exactly just run away right now, so I’m pretty much stuck doing whatever Dina says.
“Okay, look around and see if there are any headset guys,” she whispers. “I’ll keep an eye out for Sasha.”
I look around. I’m not sure why she’s whispering right now. She really doesn’t need to, since there’s really no one around this corner of the set. But it’s better than her yelping, which made everyone stare at us.
“No headset guys that I can see,”
I tell her. “Okay. Just follow me. Don’t do anything crazy.”
I can’t believe she says that, like I’m the one who does crazy stuff. That would be her!
We walk toward the food and Dina tries to sneak a croissant, but I slap her hand just in time. Someone is totally going to see her doing that!
And then I realize we’re standing only a few feet away from Sasha.
At this moment in time, it feels like everything else in the world has stopped. Dina’s frozen right in front of me. I have no idea what will happen from here, but for some reason it’s the best I’ve felt in forever, since before the summer, before the mono, since everything with my dad.
I can’t tell if Dina’s talking to me or talking out loud to herself when she says, “Yes, I’ve lied to my parents, snuck onto a movie set as an extra, and now I’m stalking Sasha Preston while she’s trying to eat.”
Then the next thing I know, Dina’s tapping Sasha on the shoulder.
Dina is tapping Sasha on her shoulder! Dina’s smiling, like she’s about to laugh and I feel like I’m about to laugh, too, from giddy excitement.
Sasha turns around and when she sees us, she asks, “Can I help you?”
It’s so strange to hear her voice this close, like she’s an actual real person in real life. Which she is, obviously. But it’s so crazy to see someone you see on TV all the time up so close. She doesn’t seem like she could be the same person who went to my school and sat in the library and ate in the cafeteria and probably got chipped at least once. I mean, everyone gets chipped at least once—even me. Even Ross.
Dina and I are just standing there, silent for what feels like a million years. I expect Dina to talk first, but she’s not, and I wonder if I should say something.
Finally, Dina opens her backpack and takes out the Rockwood Hills Middle School yearbook, the one from Sasha’s sixth-grade year.
“So, you don’t know us, Ms. Preston, but we actually know a lot about you,” Dina says.
Sasha’s eyes bulge, and I try to discreetly hit Dina. She sounds like a crazy stalker. What is she doing?
“Let me rephrase that.” She clears her throat. “I’m Dina, and this is my friend Chelsea. We go to Rockwood Hills Middle School.”
Dina just called me her friend again. Maybe we are friends. I’m having more fun with Dina today than I’ve had with my real friends in pretty much forever.
“Who allowed you to come find me here? Drake?” Sasha picks up her cell phone.
“No, wait, please,” I say, suddenly feeling the confidence to actually say something. “Just listen to us. Do you have a minute to talk?”
At this moment, I am so proud of myself for speaking up. I feel like I have Dina to thank for that.
She backs up a few steps. “Just tell me how you got over here. Okay? I was your age once. I know what kids do. But please, I need to know if people are searching for you, if you ran away from home or something.”
She was our age only a few years ago. Come on, Sasha.
Dina laughs. “No, it’s nothing like that,” she says.
“Are you sure?” Sasha asks.
“Yes, totally sure,” I jump in to the conversation. “By the way, I love that Nanette Lepore dress you wore in the latest issue of Us Weekly.”
“She’s my favorite,” Sasha says. Immediately, it seems like we have a bond, like fashion has brought us together.
“Mine, too.” I need to think of something more interesting to say. “Is it super weird to be famous?”
It’s kind of a dumb question, but I’m really curious.
“At times, yes.” Sasha looks around. “Follow me,” she says, leading us in the direction of all the trailers. “I need to get my tea. I can’t drink the stuff they have out here, so I make my own. And I want to be awake for our conversation.”
Dina nudges me with her elbow, like she’s so happy because everything’s working out.
It does feel good for things to work out every once in a while, but I’m not totally convinced we’re there yet. Sasha could be lying to us, saying to follow her to her trailer so she can make her tea but really leading us to security or to the New York City Police Department.
We could be on our way to getting arrested for breaking and entering or stalking! Then my parents will have something else to be depressed and angry about. Kendall and Molly and their moms will be gossiping about it for years, and I’ll be in worse shape than I was before.
Video tip: It’s not necessary to put the person’s name
on-screen every time someone talks, just the first time.
Perfect–finally a time I can check my phone. Because as exciting as the movie set is, I’m still a bit panicked that I’m about to get grounded for life. And I’ve never been grounded before, not even once.
We’re following Sasha, too excited or nervous to talk. I take my phone out of my pocket and see the little text message icon and the number 2 next to it. The first is a text from my mom.
I laugh out loud. She doesn’t get the fact that you don’t need to sign text messages. But—phew. At least she’s not mad at me. Not yet anyway. Maybe she really doesn’t suspect anything!
There’s also a text from Ali.
Ali’s imagination gets the best of her almost all the time. Once last year she thought my dad was actually in the FBI because he was going on a business trip and I wasn’t allowed to say where. He was actually surprising Ali’s dad with a golfing weekend in Hilton Head, and that’s why I couldn’t say anything. Ali was freaked for weeks before and thought we were being investigated.
“I think we’re in trouble,” Chelsea says as soon as we’re in Sasha’s trailer. We’re sitting in two directors chairs in the corner, and we’re waiting for Sasha to get back with her tea. “I don’t think she’s getting tea. I think she’s calling the police.”
“But you just bonded about Nanette Lepore,” I say, trying to get her to stay calm.
She shouldn’t be thinking about the police. We’re in Sasha’s trailer. Really and truly in Sasha Preston’s trailer, on a real movie set. I thought it would take me until I was at least twenty-five to get on a movie set, but here I am—at thirteen. Unbelievable. Un-bee-lee-va-ble.
Chelsea’s biting her pinkie nail. “Well, yeah. But I don’t know. Maybe we overdid it. Maybe we’re really stalkers. Stalking is illegal, you know.”
I shake my head. “We didn’t show up at her house wearing masks or anything. We were just on a public street. And we managed to find the craft services table, and she invited us in here.”
“We snuck onto the set,” she says, more forcefully now.
“Shhh,” I tell her. “Just go with it.”
“Okay.” Chelsea smiles, and it’s not the usual forced smile she gives me. It seems like a genuine smile, like she’s actually having fun. I never really thought this would happen—the two of us having fun together. But I think it is.
Sasha gets back with her tea and pulls up a chair. I immediately feel better and think we’re on the right track until we hear a knock on the door.
“Sasha, need you in five,” the person says.
“Girls, I’m sorry. That’s my cue.” She sips her tea. “As much as I appreciate you coming to find me, I think I have to get back to work.”
Chelsea and I look at each other. This is how it ends? This is how close we got only to get nowhere at
all? And right when I realized that Chelsea and I were having fun.
She smiles. “Why don’t you go out the back door? It’ll be less chaotic.”
We get up slowly and there’s another knock on Sasha’s door. This time she opens it. “Sasha, we need you now,” a male voice says.
“Be right there, Drake. Thanks.”
She keeps the door open a crack and turns around. I guess she’s looking to make sure we’re leaving. I guess this really isn’t happening. I failed. I totally failed. We got so close, though—that’s the worst part of it.
“Where are those two kids we sent to makeup?” We hear someone yell. “That was fifteen minutes ago. They’re slowing down this whole scene! Drake, have you contacted makeup to find out about those two kids?” the voice says.
“No idea, Mickey. Hold on a minute.”
“Tell the extras to take a break. We gotta find those kids. We’re never using this casting agency again. This is ridiculous.”
“Sash, take a few minutes,” Drake says. “Some of the extras are missing.” He shakes his head. “Insane.”
Sasha closes the door and looks at us. Maybe it’s that she notices the silly grins we have on our faces or maybe she’s just quick to put two and two together.
“Extras?”
“You could say that,” I tell her. “Can we please talk to you for a second?”
She sighs. “You know I’m in the middle of a workday, right? Actors and actresses are working when they’re on a movie set.”
We nod.
“Please,” I say in my nicest voice. I wish Chelsea would say something, but she isn’t speaking. I don’t know if she’s scared or bored or what. “We came in from Rockwood Hills. We’re working on this video for the fiftieth anniversary. We really need—”
“Oh, you’re the people who called my agent!” she says, yelling and almost laughing at the same time. “Girls, I’m so sorry, but I don’t think I have the time to devote to that.”
Reel Life Starring Us Page 11
