by Krista McGee
“So you didn’t really leave anything in here?” Kara pointed to the gym—a state-of-the-art room filled with every kind of exercise equipment imaginable.
“No, I did.” Chad walked to a weight machine and picked up a towel lying on the cushioned seat. “I left this towel just sitting here. My mother would be very upset about that.” Chad headed to a wicker hamper in the corner of the room and threw the towel inside.
“We should probably give them a little more time than that.” Kara smiled at Chad.
Chad sat on a stationary bike. “You’re right. So tell me how you and Addy met. You were on a TV show?”
“Yes, a competition to win a date to prom with Jonathon.”
“I remember talking to Jonathon while that was going on. He wasn’t crazy about the idea.”
“Addy told me he did it to help boost his dad’s approval ratings,” Kara said. “And it worked.”
“Did you like being on the show?”
“I liked parts of it.” Kara thought back to her two months in Nashville. “I loved when we got to perform. That was fun. I didn’t love golf. I didn’t love the catty girls. I did love getting to room with Addy.”
“She seems very nice.” Chad began cycling.
“Addy is terrific.” Kara walked to an elliptical machine and began walking. “She’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.”
“You guys seem very different.”
“Totally different.” Kara laughed. “Addy is very reserved. She hated being on the show. I am definitely not reserved. That’s probably why we get along so well.”
“Interesting.” Chad slowed. “Jonathon is reserved too. He knows how to work the crowd—having the president for your father forces that on him—but he doesn’t seek out the spotlight.”
“What about you? Are you Jonathon’s opposite? Is that why you get along so well?”
Chad stopped cycling. “I don’t know if I’m his opposite. We actually have a lot in common.”
“How did you meet?”
“I was at a party a few months after I won America’s Next Star, and he was there with Janie Smart.”
“The Disney channel diva? He dated her for a while, right?”
“Too long.” Chad shook his head.
“You didn’t approve?”
Chad paused. “She was very . . . fake. Pretty, talented, all that. But she only ever talked about herself. Not the kind of girl I’d want to see Jonathon end up with.”
“You don’t have to worry about that with Addy. She’s as real as they come.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“So, anyway, you were at the party, and Jonathon was there with Janie and . . . ?”
Chad smiled. “Right. We ended up at the same table. Janie spent most of the night talking to one of the Disney Channel producers, so Jonathon and I just started talking. We found out we both like sports, and we hate chemistry, and we really dislike all the hype that goes into being a celebrity.”
“Yes, all that money and attention. It must be so difficult for you both.” Kara arched an eyebrow at Chad. Then she froze. I can’t mock Chad Beacon. What am I thinking? Now he’s going to hate me. Why didn’t I just ask about sports? That would have been safe. But no, open foot, insert mouth. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“Sure you did.” Chad’s perfect smile widened. “And it’s a good reminder. I am lucky. Sometimes I forget that.”
Kara sighed, relieved that Chad wasn’t angry at her. “I plan to be famous someday. Tell me what’s terrible about it so I’m prepared.”
Chad’s laugh was deep and Kara thought it fit him perfectly—a manly, honest laugh. “Don’t let anyone make you someone you’re not.”
“Have you had to be someone you’re not?”
“No.” His smile faded. “But lots of people have tried. Thankfully, I have great parents. They make sure I don’t get too full of myself.”
“Well, that’s something we have in common.” Kara heard her phone ping and pulled it out of her pocket. “I have great parents too. The best.”
“I don’t know about that.” Chad stood.
“Addy says to come back.” Kara showed him her phone. “The movie is going to start soon.”
“Too bad.” Chad held the door open. “I wanted to give them more time.”
Kara thought her legs would give way underneath her when she saw the way Chad was looking at her. I think he’s flirting with me. The most beautiful boy on the planet, and he’s flirting with me.
The two made their way back upstairs and were quickly ushered into the movie room—complete with stadium seating and plush leather chairs. White House staff members brought the foursome fresh caramel popcorn and the soft drink of their choice. Kara sat with Addy on one side and Chad on the other. As the lights dimmed, Kara sat back and prepared herself to enjoy this blockbuster, trying to remember everything about it so she could tell all her siblings about getting to see it two weeks before it was scheduled to release in theaters.
Mission to Atlantis was just as good as Kara hoped, but she had a hard time focusing on the screen because Chad was sitting next to her. She let her own script play in her mind.
Chad: I think you’re beautiful, Kara.
Kara: I think you’re beautiful too, Chad.
Chad: Not as beautiful as you.
Kara: Oh, stop, you’re embarrassing me.
Chad: I’m sure you have boys lined up at your door. And I’m just a lowly superstar whose first album just went platinum. But would you consider, I don’t know, going out with me?
Kara: Oh, Chad. You’re right. I do have boys lined up at my door. But you can come to the front of the line.
And then he leans over, brushes my hair from my face, and—
“What did you do that for?” Kara shielded her eyes from the bright lights.
“Movie’s over,” Jonathon said.
Addy rubbed her eyes.
“Did you fall asleep?” Kara looked at her friend.
“Someone woke me up at the crack of dawn this morning.”
“I’m sorry,” Jonathon said.
“Oh no.” Addy stood. “Not you. Her.”
Chad stood and Kara looked up. Way up, watching as Chad rolled his neck. “The White House song. I’d like to hear more of that. Maybe I could record it.”
A duet. Kara McKormick and the Greek god. Oh yes. It could be the theme song of our first movie. The first of many. He’ll have to rescue me from dangerous situations in each one. He is a god, after all. But he’ll give up his immortality in the end to be with me. It’ll be beautiful. We’ll walk down the red carpet together, hand in hand. The interviewers will ask how we manage to have such great chemistry together week after week and he’ll say—
“Mr. Beacon?” Bull, Jonathon’s large but friendly Secret Service agent, opened the heavy mahogany door, Kara’s fantasies once again interrupted. “Mommy’s on the phone. You left it in the sitting room.”
Chad took the phone from Bull’s massive hand. “Thanks, man.”
“That’s what babysitters are for.” Giving Chad a playful punch, Bull walked back to his post outside the theater.
Chad spoke to his parents briefly. He’s so respectful. Kara listened to Chad on the phone. Of course. He is perfect, after all.
“They’re on their way,” Chad said. “Dad insists I get over to one of the museums tonight. They’re reenacting a battle from the Civil War, and he thinks it’ll go perfectly with what we’re studying right now. I get to write a paper on it.”
“Slave drivers,” Kara said, sad to see Chad go. I just need a little more time. At least ask for my number. Something.
“No.” Chad walked toward the door. “I told you my parents are great. Really. But they’re also quite passionate about my education. And my dad thinks there is no more important subject than history.”
Jonathon slapped his friend on the back. “My dad says the same thing.”
Chad agreed to meet his parents outside the city s
o they wouldn’t have to drive in rush-hour traffic. One of the White House chauffeurs was enlisted to take Chad to the meeting point. Kara hoped that Chad would invite them along, but Jonathon informed the girls they were invited to dinner with one of the senators from Florida.
Disappointed, Kara said good-bye to Chad.
“I hope to see you again,” Chad said.
“Me too.” Kara watched as Chad walked away, willing him to turn around, ask for her number, kiss her, lift her in his arms, and carry her away with him.
All she got was a wave.
Chapter 10
This was an amazing trip,” Kara said to Addy as they sat at the terminal waiting for the planes to take them home. “I’m glad you forced me to come with you to the White House.”
Addy looked at her. “You’re welcome.”
“I can’t believe I got to meet Chad Beacon.” Kara smiled. “Wait until I tell everybody back home.”
“You guys really hit it off.”
“You think?” Kara turned to face Addy. “I mean, I know I thought he was great. But do you think he really liked me? ”
“I do, but . . .”
“But?”
“He’s a Christian.” Addy pulled out her phone to respond to a text.
“I know. But I can live with that. We’re friends, right? ”
“Dating is different.” Addy put her phone away.
“I know I felt sparks flying. When we watched the movie in the media room, Chad’s knee kept bumping against mine. Coincidence? I don’t think so.”
“I’m not saying he’s not attracted to you. Of course he is. You’re beautiful and funny and quite charming when you want to be.”
“I know.” Kara laughed. “Go on.”
“But Jonathon told me Chad has never dated. He’s waiting for the one God has chosen for him.”
“What?” Kara sat up straight. “Never dated?”
“Never.”
“But you need to date a lot,” Kara said. “My brother says it’s like buying a car. You need to test-drive several models before you settle on one.”
“Dating is not like buying a car.”
“Why not?”
“Because you don’t buy a car for life. And you don’t let a car inside your heart. You don’t kiss a car . . .”
“Actually,” Kara said, “when my brother Joey finally got his Mercedes, he kissed it. I’ve got the picture on my phone. Want to see?”
“He would.” Addy looked at Kara’s phone and laughed. “But you know what I’m saying. You’ve seen girls whose hearts have been broken by the wrong guy.”
“But that teaches them not to make the same mistake again.”
“Does it?”
Kara thought of a friend back home who needed to have a boyfriend all the time. One would break up with her, she’d be devastated, but then she’d be with a new guy within a week or two.
“I guess not,” Kara said. “But still. To marry the first guy you date? That seems a little scary.”
“That’s where God comes in.”
“God?”
“Yes. I believe he is in control of every aspect of my life. I can trust him to choose my future husband. He loves me and wants what’s best for me.”
“And if God’s choice for you is a short, pudgy bald guy? ”
Addy smiled at her. “Then I will think he’s the hottest guy on the planet.”
“Whatever.” Kara laughed. “Maybe God’s choice for Chad is a tall, spunky redhead.”
Kara’s phone rang, and she dug through her purse to find it. Her ring tone, the club version of a top-forties song, played at full volume. Kara apologized to the people in the terminal as she kept digging. When she finally found it, the call ended.
“Who was it?” Addy asked.
“I don’t recognize the number.” Kara looked at her screen. “It’s New York, though, so it could be anybody. I’ll just hit redial.”
Kara waited as the phone made the connection. “Hello, this is Kara. Did you just call me? McKormick . . . Yes . . . Yes, I did.” Kara stood and began walking up and down the hallway in front of the terminal. “I did? I am? . . . Next week? Of course . . . That’s right . . . Yes, no problem. Bye!”
Kara screamed so loudly, everyone in the airport stopped to look at her. She stood on top of one of the chairs and announced, “I made it. I’m going to be on TV.”
As Kara danced from chair to chair, the people around her began clapping.
“You were on The Book of Love, weren’t you?” a man asked.
“I was.” Kara jumped down. “But now I’m going to be auditioning for a new teen show. I’m going to Orlando.”
Kara greeted people, shook hands, and signed autographs. In between, she’d run over to Addy, scream, and hug her.
Fifteen minutes later, the crowd dispersed and Kara sat beside Addy.
“Addy, I made it!” Kara gripped Addy’s knee.
“I’m so happy for you.” Addy beamed. “So, when do you get to come to Orlando?”
“Next week.”
“That’s not very long,” Addy said.
“Are you kidding?” Kara stood and paced the aisle. “It’s forever. One whole week of waiting and wondering. Oh, and writing.”
“Writing?”
Kara sat. “Yes. The network is all about giving teens creative license, so all of us have to come with a monologue that we’ve written and memorized.”
“Wow, that’s a little scary.”
“I know. It is.” Kara sat still. “It really is. I’ve never written a monologue. I’ve performed them but never written one. What if I can’t do it? Or what if it’s so bad they send me home right when I get there?”
Addy placed her hand on Kara’s arm. “Kara, calm down. You can do it.”
“You really think so?”
“Definitely.”
Kara hugged her friend. “Thanks, Addy. Okay. Deep, cleansing breaths. I can write a monologue. I can write a monologue . . . How do I write a monologue?”
Kara stood again and Addy pulled her down. “I think that’s a great start.”
“What?”
“You should write a monologue about writing a monologue.”
“That’s not a bad idea.” Kara stood again. “I could be a totally neurotic spaz. That would take real acting, of course.”
“Of course.” Addy laughed.
A voice over the loudspeaker announced, “Flight 2352 to Islip, Long Island, now boarding.”
Kara grabbed her overnight bag and hugged Addy. “That’s me. Thank you, Addy. For everything.”
She returned the hug. “I’m so glad you came.”
“See you in a week,” Kara said with a squeal.
“I can’t wait.” Addy hugged Kara again.
Kara waited in line, showed the ticket agent her boarding pass, walked down the terminal onto the airplane, and finally found her seat. She buckled in and reached into her purse. No paper. A receipt and some gum wrappers, but no paper.
“Great.” She sighed and picked up the in-flight magazine, hoping it had some blank pages inside.
“Excuse me.” A huge man tried to squeeze past Kara to his seat. It was a no-go.
“I’ll get up.” Kara unbuckled as the man stepped aside so Kara could move into the aisle.
Great. Kara watched the man try to stuff himself into the window seat. I get seated next to a sumo wrestler. Perfect. And I have no paper. Which doesn’t matter since the ideas are all falling out of my head every minute I’m not writing. I’ll be the only one at the audition with no monologue. The directors will send me home and pick some other girl who can actually write a monologue, and it’ll be over before it even started.
Kara sat and tried to scribble some ideas on the back of her receipt from the airport lunch counter. But her pen refused to mark on the slick paper. It wouldn’t even work when she laid it on the magazine. She was lifting the tray table with her left hand, her right elbow pinned to her side by Sumo Wrestler, when she
saw white paper sticking out of the pouch.
Yes! The paper was halfway out when Kara realized it was actually the airline’s barf bag. It was large and had plenty of room to write on. But it’s a barf bag. Can I write on this without thinking about what it’s used for? Kara turned it over, then looked inside just to make sure it hadn’t been used. All clear.
Here goes nothing. At least I’ll be able to say I have suffered for my art.
Kara’s Monologue
(Kara looking at a sheet of paper) “Write a monologue.” (She turns the paper over) That’s it? “Write a monologue”? What kind of instructions are those? Am I supposed to write it like I’m me? Like I’m a little kid, a grown woman? An old lady?
Ooh, an old lady. That might be fun. I could be like, “Hey there, little missy. Have you seen my dentures? I’m going out to dinner with Gomer tonight. That’s right. All the ladies want him, but he’s mine. All mine. Only seventy-nine years old, with a head full of hair and only one hip replacement. He’s taking me to the all-you-can-eat buffet at Bubba’s Diner. They have the best cornbread. Mmmm-mmmm. I can’t wait to sink my teeth into that. But first, I’ve gotta find my teeth. Where are they?”
I don’t know. That may not be politically correct. Or what they’re looking for. Maybe they want something more modern. Hip. Maybe I should be a gangster. I can get my swagger on, pull one pant leg up. “Yo, wassup. You know, I’m just here looking to get me another sick tat. I got a picture of my mom on this arm. A picture of my homey over here. Now it’s time to get something written in some other language on my neck. Right here. Something like, ‘Don’t you wish you could read what this says?’ Or ‘That’s right, I got a tat on my neck so you know I’m scary.’ Yeah. That would be wicked sick, yo.”
That’s not going to work. No one will buy me as a gangster. Not unless I am an Irish gangster. (Laughs) Right. So not modern. What else? Futuristic? It can be 2345. “The earth has been destroyed by mutant hedgehogs. That’s right, hedgehogs. While everyone else was worried about nuclear war, alien invasions, and Texas-sized meteorites, a group of hedgehogs dug a home underneath a super-secret NASA testing facility. While the scientists were testing ways to grow plants on the moon, their chemicals leaked down through the dirt, into the hedgehogs’ lair. The chemicals changed the hedgehogs’ DNA, giving them superpowers. But they were evil, and they wanted to use their powers to rid the earth of all humans, making it a haven for mutant hedgehogs. But then, one day . . .”
