by Dahlia Adler
A thousand dollars an hour. Jesus. I would’ve been able to pay for a semester at Columbia in no time with that kind of cash. Even if Liam were going to pay me a fraction of that, it would’ve been completely dishonest to take it. I was no SAT tutor. It was one thing to let Vanessa pay me for tutoring—I knew it was killing her that I wouldn’t take any money from her, and she was happy to give it this way—but I’d taken the test less than a year ago; how could I possibly take money for teaching it?
“I’m not really a tutor,” I admitted to Liam. “We’re really just helping each other out a bit. I’m short on cash, and Van’s—”
“Van’s lucky to have a best friend who was accepted to Columbia early, whose GPA is like a 12.0, and who happens to have aced this test on her first shot,” Van cut in.
“Indeed she is.” Liam flashed me another smile that could’ve melted the entire North Pole. Was that a tiny dimple? Why, God, why? “Let me know when you’ve got some time. I’m happy to pay.”
“Great!” Van answered for me. “Also, I’m giving Ally a few autographed things to sell on eBay, since my closet is basically overflowing with crap I never use anyway. Got anything to spare?”
I could feel some serious heat flaming in my cheeks at Van’s brazenness. “You don’t have to—”
“Tristan! Bailey! We need you!”
“Whoops, duty calls,” said Van, jumping up. Liam turned to follow her when suddenly he pulled off his shirt, grabbed Vanessa’s marker, scribbled his autograph, and tossed it into my frozen hands.
“Hope that helps,” he said, and I didn’t know if the grin he was flashing was at his own cleverness or the fact that I was blatantly staring, mouth wide open, at his beautiful shirtless form with its finely carved pecs and six-pack. Before I could recover and close my jaw like a normal human being, he was gone.
* * * * *
The shirt smelled ridiculously good—faint traces of cologne and deodorant mixed with that guy smell—and I hated to sell it, but bidding went up to four hundred bucks within two hours and I reasoned that if Liam and I were going to study together, I’d probably have many more opportunities to inhale his scent.
Not that I was planning to sniff Liam Holloway.
Van had actually underestimated her fan base; two of the autographed photos she’d snuck me were going for seventy-five each. (I saved the third for Nate; I had a feeling he’d appreciate it.) I had to hand it to her. The girl may have had no desire to go to college, but she sure knew how to build a college fund.
“What are you doing, Ally?”
I spun in my desk chair to face a very inquisitive-looking Lucy. “I’m just selling a couple of things Vanessa gave me online.”
“You’re selling presents from Vanessa?” My mom joined Lucy in the doorway. “Ally—”
“It’s not what you think,” I said, holding up one of the glossies. “Van gave them to me to put up on eBay. Her costar Liam gave me something too.”
Mom sighed. “Luce, go brush your teeth, okay?”
Lucy shrugged and danced off to the bathroom. Mom closed the door behind her and sat down on the bed. “Ally, I’m sorry you overheard me and your father the other day, but I’m really not sure this is the best way to make up for a bad situation.”
“Why not? This is the easiest money I’ve ever made.” Never mind that it was a miniscule fraction of what I needed. “Now you and Dad don’t need to worry about a thing. Well, besides the obvious,” I added, realizing how stupid I sounded.
She seemed to be searching for the words to respond, but I couldn’t take another chat about money with my parents this week. I was well aware of how hopeless the whole situation was, but my dad had made it pretty clear that I couldn’t give up. If Van and Liam were willing to help me without literally having to empty out their wallets, why shouldn’t I take them up on it?
“What about the newspaper?” she asked finally.
“We met yesterday. Van knows I can’t come to set on Tuesdays.”
“And the debate team?”
“Only has one meet left for the rest of the year, and it’s a small one, so Dr. Phillips wants to use newbies. I’m off the hook.”
“What about—”
“Mom! Relax. School is under control. My APs aren’t for three months and I’ve already put in plenty of studying time. I’m working on my scholarship applications. The closest thing to assistant work Van’s had me do is get her coffee. I’m basically getting paid a decent amount of money to hang out with my best friend I’d never get to see otherwise and a really hot guy, plus tutor them in stuff that comes easily to me. I’d think you’d be happy that I’m working extra schoolwork into my new routine,” I added, a tiny edge creeping into my voice. I was seriously trying here, but it was only a matter of time before her doubts that I could handle it all would start causing me to have my own. There was no room for that in my life right now.
“Okay, no more questions,” she conceded, standing up. Then she walked over, gave me a hug, and started to leave, but stopped just short of the door. “Everything’s going to be all right, Ally.”
I couldn’t tell from her tone of voice whether she was asking me or telling me, so I simply nodded.
5
“BON WEEKEND!” Madame Boulanger trilled over the sounds of the ringing bell and twenty kids shoving books into their bags. Frankly, I couldn’t wait to have a bon weekend; the day before had been incredibly long, and now I was headed back to set again. Not that it’d been a bad day. Tutoring Vanessa was kind of a pointless task, but it was fun to hang out. She’d also found a few more assistant tasks for me to do, and by the time I’d finally gotten home around ten, I’d been in no mood to work on the history paper I hadn’t even started yet.
“Fancy togs you’ve got going on there, Duncan,” Nate observed as we filed out of class along with everyone else.
Trust Nate to call me out on the fact that I’d dressed up a bit for another day at the studio. “Togs? Really? Has anyone said that in the last seventy years?”
“I’m gonna bring it back,” he vowed. “And hey, thanks again for that picture of Vanessa. It’s, uh, getting a lot of use.”
“Gross. Now I’m just sorry I gave it to you.” I stopped at my locker and swapped my books for the weekend while Nate disappeared with his surfing buddies. A quick examination in my locker mirror revealed just how obvious it was I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. I dabbed a bit of concealer under my eyes, touched up my eyeliner, and smoothed on some lip gloss before heading out to my car.
When I got to the studio, Vanessa was filming, and judging by the impatient jut of her hip, the number of takes for the scene was reaching the high double digits. Liam, on the other hand, was sitting peacefully at his usual table, reading a book whose cover I couldn’t see but which definitely didn’t contain SAT tests.
I was about to sit down at an empty table when Liam looked up and waved briefly. Taking it as an invitation, I strolled over and sat down next to him. “What are you reading?”
He picked up the book to show me the cover. It was Catch-22, aka one of my favorite books of all time.
“I freaking love that book. When Major Major—”
“Spoiler alert!” he yelped with genuine panic, and I laughed and mimed a lip-zipping motion. “I know I shouldn’t really be reading it with all these stupid lines to learn and SATs to study for, but every now and again I need to get my mind on something normal.” He stopped, looking surprised at himself for his admission.
“If you don’t mind my asking, why are you studying for the SATs? I mean, Van’s pretty much just pretending so she can slip me money, but considering the buzz for the show, I have a feeling you guys are gonna be just fine, career-wise, without college.”
“If you know Vanessa’s just having you tutor her so she can pay you, why are you letting her?” asked Liam, dodging my question. “Just take her money. Whatever it is you need it for, she seems perfectly happy to give it to you.”
“You obviously understand the importance of taking them if you’re studying for them yourself.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “So you’re letting her think she’s just giving you money when in fact you’re trying to prepare her for a fallback lifestyle?”
It sounded so awful the way he said it, like I was trying to be her babysitter. All I wanted was for her to be able to do the normal college-and-job thing if acting didn’t work out. Was that really so bad? It’s not like I had no faith in her; I just had no faith in Hollywood or its casting directors, and I hadn’t ever since Vanessa’s first audition, when she’d come straight to my house in tears after they told her they weren’t looking for someone “ethnic.”
“Is that what you’re doing?” I retorted, hoping to turn the heat on him instead. “Preparing for a fallback lifestyle?”
He seemed startled by my response, and I wondered if I’d crossed a line, but I didn’t have much time to think on it because just then, Liam was called to set.
“Later,” he muttered, leaving me alone with Yossarian and the ghosts.
* * * * *
I was still on set many hours later when they finally broke for the night. I’d managed to tune them out and get a decent amount of homework done, and Van was too busy to need anything from me.
“Lady, I am exhausted,” she muttered as she flopped down in the chair next to me. “Can we go out? Preferably somewhere with an IV drip of either coffee or beer; I don’t even care which.”
I laughed. “You just said you’re exhausted. Wouldn’t you rather just chill at home? Or come over and watch a movie or something?”
“Anything sounds better than being here.” She yawned. “I’m gonna go to my trailer to clean myself up. Would you mind getting me a cup of coffee?”
I was about to make a joke that I wasn’t her lackey when I realized that, yeah, actually, I was. I went to get her a cup, and found that Liam had already beaten me to craft services.
“Hey,” I greeted him cautiously, remembering how I’d snapped at him earlier.
“Hey.” If he had any feelings about it, they certainly didn’t show on his face. Well, of course he doesn’t, I reminded myself. He doesn’t care about you. Look at him, for God’s sake. “S’up.”
“Just getting Van some coffee,” I mumbled, feeling a bit embarrassed about that fact. I wasn’t crazy about the idea of being viewed by Liam as an assistant. The last thing I wanted was for him to get on board with that and start having me pick out the blue M&Ms from the bowl in his trailer or something.
He grunted and stepped away from the urn to make way for me. I filled Van’s cup almost to the top and debated filling one for myself too, but decided that drinking caffeine so late was a bad idea. Then I moved over to the milk just in time to see Liam dump what looked like a cup of sugar into his black coffee and then take a sip of the undoubtedly scalding liquid.
“Seriously?” I couldn’t help asking as I poured soy milk into Van’s coffee.
“What?” he asked defensively.
“Black coffee, pound of sugar, and not even going to wait for it to cool. What kind of crazy coffee daredevil are you?”
The smile was small, but it was there. “I like to live dangerously.”
“Clearly!” I reached for the nearest artificial sweetener and sprinkled a much more conservative amount into Van’s cup.
“That’s your idea of safe living?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “That stuff could take the rust off a car.”
“I think you’re thinking of cola.”
The corner of his mouth lifted just a bit. “You always have to know the most about everything, don’t you?”
Naturally, the best response I could come up with was, “Do not.”
“Yes, you do. But it’s oddly unannoying on you.”
“How flattering,” I said, trying to keep my voice sarcastic even though I could feel the semi-compliment bringing a blush to my cheeks. He didn’t say anything, so I started to turn and walk toward Van’s trailer with her coffee when he called my name. I turned back around. “What’s up?”
“I’m heading to a party at my friend Josh’s house as soon as I get showered and change into something a little less…surfer-douche chic.” He took another sip of his coffee, blowing on it slowly first, allowing me a moment to admire his mouth as he did. He really did have nice, soft-looking lips, and pursed like that, I could almost imagine—oh, dammit, he was talking again.
“Sorry, what?” I could feel that flush creeping into my cheeks hardcore now, and I wondered if I’d been caught staring.
“I asked if you and Vanessa wanna come.”
To a party? With Liam? That sounded…awesome? Terrifying? I actually had no idea. I’d never been much of a party person, but it was nice of Liam to include me when inviting Vanessa.
“I’ll ask her,” I replied, then rushed out as quickly as I could without spilling, to avoid saying anything else stupid.
* * * * *
“Mmm, thank you,” Vanessa said gratefully as she took her first long sip. She’d already removed her excess makeup and changed back into jeans and a silky T-shirt with a bright, funky pattern. “So, movie at your place?”
“Actually…” I dropped onto the plush red loveseat that lined one wall of the trailer she shared with Carly Upton and plucked an after-dinner mint from the small dish on the end table. “I bumped into Liam at craft services, and he invited us to a party.”
“Ooh, now you’re talking.” Van’s eyes lit up. “Whose party?”
I shrugged. “I think he said his friend Josh?”
She laughed. “You know who that is, don’t you?”
“Am I supposed to keep track of Liam’s friends now?”
“Um, hi, even Alexandra Duncan, Jaded Queen of Hollywood, knows who Josh Chester is.”
My jaw dropped. “That’s whose party it is? Liam’s friends with him?”
“Best friends,” Vanessa confirmed. “How do you not know this? Their best friendship definitely falls under the category of ‘common knowledge.’”
“Pardon me for not assuming that Liam’s BFFs with a guy who’s been to rehab more times than Lindsay Lohan, not to mention been in the tabs for mooning paparazzi more than once.”
“Maybe Liam’s not the class act you think he is.” Van put her drink down to rummage around for her hot-pink heels. “And by the way, don’t think I haven’t noticed that you have a huge crush on him.”
I rolled my eyes, though I could feel myself blushing again. “Please. He’s hot; that’s it. Whatever… admiration I have for him is no greater than the rest of the free world’s.”
“If you say so,” Van replied, trying and failing to hide the smirk on her lips. “So are you coming to the party with me or what?”
“Definitely not. My parents would absolutely kill me if I went to a party at Josh Chester’s. He probably gives everyone a free bump upon entry.”
“As if you ever have to worry about me doing drugs,” said Vanessa. “I’m not an idiot.”
“You say that now…”
She huffed a sigh. “You’re impossible. Fine. I’m going without you, and I will gladly report back about every awesome thing you missed so that the next time a fun opportunity like this arises, you will strap on a pair and join us.”
I didn’t anticipate there being a next time that would include an invitation for me, but it was pointless to say so to Van. “Have fun,” I trilled, “and don’t call me at 4:00 a.m. looking for a designated driver.”
“Deal.” She grabbed her lightweight scarf, and the two of us walked out. “Come on, let’s go tell Liam you’re being a loser.”
“Um, maybe you could just tell him yourself?” Yes, it was ridiculous, but while I was used to it from Van, I didn’t think I could handle Liam telling me how lame I was just then. “I gotta get back home. History paper’s not gonna write itself.”
“History paper. Seriously. How are we even friends?”
“G’night, Van.” I started to
walk out to the parking lot.
“Hey,” she called after me, “as my assistant, can’t I demand that you drive me to and from or something?”
I stopped and turned. “Yeah, I guess you could. Do you really want to?”
She stuck her tongue out at me. “No. I just want you to get out and have some fun. You’ve earned it.”
“I’ll have earned it when I can afford my first semester’s tuition,” I replied, turning around and walking out into the night.
* * * * *
I changed my mind a hundred times on the drive home and continued to do so for the next bunch of hours as I alternated working on my history paper, studying my carefully made flash cards for the Physics Advanced Placement exam, and reading the Wikipedia page on melanoma for the millionth time while studying the mole on my left thigh. All were half-assed efforts, my mind constantly wandering to the party and what I might have been missing. I finally passed out on top of my books at some point around dawn.
I woke up to a phone call from Vanessa a few hours later. Snaking my hand out, I grabbed my phone from where it lay on my desk amid a pile of pencils and highlighters.
“Hey, Van.” I yawned hugely. “What’s up?”
“Man, I thought you went to bed early last night.” She sounded annoyingly awake. “Why do you still sound like death?”
“I went home early,” I corrected her. “Then I did work for about a zillion hours.”
“Man, you really should’ve come out with us last night.”
I rubbed my eyes and sat up fully. “How was it?” I asked, stretching my free arm over my head and yawning again.
“Fun. And crazy. You would’ve absolutely hated it. It was basically a bunch of celebs sitting around getting trashed.”
“Oh, but think of the cash I could’ve gotten for selling pics of that to the tabs,” I mused.
