by Alyson Noel
“Of course we’re going,” her mother said impatiently.
“Then I’m getting a ride with my friends. I’m sure you, Dad, Diego, and I will have plenty of time to hang at the party,” Lola said, taking a bite of her apple, stomping down the hall, and slamming her bedroom door, not caring for one second what the consequences of that might be. It’s not like it can get any worse, she thought.
And now she had the fun task of finding something cool enough to wear to a glitzy Hollywood party that her parents would also approve of. Talk about impossible.
“Maybe you can, like, have a major blowout, but no one gets hurt,” Lola said. She was sitting next to Duncan in his dad’s brand-new Lexus convertible. Lola knew he’d scored the car to impress Ellie, so it was too bad she’d canceled on him at the very last minute.
“I don’t think my dad would be too cool with that,” Duncan said, glancing over at her briefly. “You probably shouldn’t even wish things like that; we’re just getting off the freeway, for God’s sake.” He shook his head.
“Easy for you to say. You have no idea what I’m in for. No idea of what my mom is even capable of.”
“How bad can it be?” Duncan asked. “Is he like, a big geek or something?”
“Probably,” Lola laughed. “But that’s not the point. It’s all about information, and how my parents are steadily infiltrating every single corner of my life. And if I’m not careful, then the Lolita that you know and love will quietly disappear, and all that remains will be Lola. And everyone knows what a bore she is.” She rolled her eyes and looked out the window.
“I kind of like Lola,” Duncan said, looking at her and smiling.
“You would,” she laughed. Then, staring in disbelief as they pulled into the parking lot, she shrieked, “Oh my God, don’t turn here, just keep going, keep going, oh no, it’s too late, they’ve made us.” Lola sighed and rolled her eyes. “Well, it’s been nice knowing ya, Duncan.” She climbed out of the car, waving reluctantly at her parents, who were standing next to the valet stand, obviously waiting for her arrival. “Oh, and Duncan, you will never, ever get to be my getaway driver, should I need one someday. You failed miserably at this little operation. Still, I would advise you to run fast and far from the crazy Latina in the overpriced dress over there,” she said, pointing at her mother, completely oblivious to the fact that the miniskirt she’d worn in rebellion had folded up in such a way that you could almost see, well, France.
“Here’s Lola now,” her mother said, arranging her lips into a tight perfunctory smile while her disapproving eyes focused on Lola’s hiked-up skirt, tiny cardigan, tinier tank top, and little ballet flats. “This is Diego,” she said, as though presenting a masterpiece.
“Hey,” Lola said, noticing his precisely styled and gelled dark brown hair—which he’d probably spent the last hour getting to look like he hadn’t thought about it in weeks—and the perfectly groomed brows that put her own to shame. And was that? Could it be? Was he actually wearing just the tiniest hint of Smith’s Rosebud Salve on his bottom lip?
“Hey.” He smiled, showing off his perfect white game-show-host teeth.
He must be a model/actor, she thought. He’s too perfect to be anything else.
“Well, I’m sure you two have lots to talk about!” her mother singsonged. “So we’ll be on our way. Have fun!” She smiled tightly, while discreetly grabbing the hem of Lola’s miniskirt and yanking it down as far as it would go.
chapter thirty-six
Okay, this was not at all how she imagined it would be. All day at school, when Anne had been playing the movie version of the party in her head (instead of listening to her teachers drone on and on about subjects that just couldn’t compare), she had cast herself in the starring role, as the girl with all the best lines. She’d pictured herself dressed in an outfit she didn’t actually own but had seen recently in Teen Vogue, making brilliant, outrageous comments that would make Chris laugh so hard, he would look her right in the eye and say, “I just love you, Anne.” And then, stopping to catch his breath, he would reach for her hand, look deep into her eyes, and say, “Really. I think I’m falling in love with you.” Then, as the camera zoomed in for a close-up of the lovely young couple embracing, the background music would swell into some really sappy love song (possibly titled “Anne’s Theme”), which would make the entire audience reach for a tissue, gently dabbing at their eyes while smiling through their tears.
But not once, in her wildest fantasies, did this particular movie open with her getting ditched first by her date/almost boyfriend, who was working on a science project (she hoped it wasn’t a biology experiment) with the Villain (every good screenplay had one). And then ditched a second time by her dad’s little helper (who, for one insane and vulnerable moment in the living room, she had actually thought was quite gorgeous).
It was like the second they’d walked in the restaurant, Jake had grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, thrust it at Anne, and then hightailed it to the other side of the room, as far away as possible, leaving her standing in the corner, all alone, sipping champagne and looking like the world’s biggest reject.
She pulled her cell phone out of her purse and checked to see if Chris had called and she’d somehow failed to hear it ring. But the second she glanced at the blank screen, she felt embarrassed for even looking. Because even though that very same act was probably being played out at that exact same moment by millions of girls across the globe, that didn’t make it any less pathetic.
Shaking her head at her own lameness, she took another sip of champagne and looked across the room to see Jade and Ben. Finally, someone to talk to, she thought.
“Jade!” she yelled, waving her hands around like a desperate rescue victim, beyond caring about just how far from cool she was straying. “Hey how long have you been here?” she asked, looking from Jade to Ben and noticing his eyes were all bloodshot as usual.
“Just arrived. Did we miss anything?” Jade asked.
“No, I’ve just been really busy warming up this wall.” She shrugged. “I guess the big stars don’t arrive until later. It’s mostly just crew right now.”
“Hey, where’d you get the bubbles?” Ben asked, looking at Anne’s glass.
“One of the waiters. They’re all over the place. And it’s an open bar.”
“Ben, maybe we should just hang for a while,” Jade said, giving him a pleading look.
“I’m hanging.” He looked at her and smiled. “I’d just rather be hanging with a drink in my hand. Anybody need anything?” he asked, heading toward the bar.
Anne shook her head. She knew she should just stick with the one glass—she didn’t want to end up alone, embarrassed, and drunk.
Jade shook her head and watched him walk away. “I just don’t know what else to do,” she whispered, the second he was out of earshot.
“What do you mean?” Anne looked at her.
“Well, it’s like, I’m totally trying to be a good friend, and I’m really trying to help, but it’s like he doesn’t even care what happens to him. Not to mention that he still won’t tell me where he was all week, and he gets totally annoyed when I ask. I never should have brought him here. I don’t think Ben and an open bar is such a good combination,” she said, looking really worried.
Anne watched Ben push his way to the front of the line. “I’m sure it’ll all be fine,” she assured her. But deep down inside, she wondered if that was really true.
chapter thirty-seven
“So,” Lola said, tapping her water bottle against Diego’s. “It’s so great to finally meet you.”
But Diego just looked at her and smiled. “Is it?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Well, yeah. I mean, I’ve heard so much about you, and stuff,” Lola said, trying to come off as interested and enthusiastic even though she could feel herself losing steam. Now that he was directly in front of her she was determined to just play it out—by being nice and saying all the r
ight things. Though he wasn’t making it very easy for her. And something about the look on his face told her he wasn’t buying her act for one measly second.
“Is that why you didn’t return my calls? Because you’d heard too much about me? Or were you just playing hard to get?” he asked, giving her an amused look.
Lola focused on the white linen tablecloth, running her fingernails over it and wondering what to say next. For the first time in her entire life, she was completely clueless about how to act around a guy. Normally it was so instinctive with her, but this time it was totally different. And she wasn’t sure if it was because her parents were involved in the setup or what. But it almost seemed like he was toying with her, and that he wasn’t all that interested. Which was even more unusual. Had getting dumped made her unconsciously send out some kind of crazy pheromone that repelled men? Was that even possible? Or had she finally met the one guy who genuinely had no interest in her? And if so, then didn’t that mean she was destined to fall in love with him?
But Lola was still dealing with lost love, and this guy, gorgeous as he was, just didn’t seem like he could inspire those kinds of feelings in her. There was something different about him. Something she just couldn’t put her finger on. “Um, well, you’re right. It was really rude of me to ignore your message. And I’m sorry,” she said, looking up at him briefly. “My parents don’t exactly know this, but I was really into someone, and he just dumped me like the day before you called. So I guess I wasn’t exactly into meeting someone new. In fact, you seem really nice and all, and you’re definitely really good-looking and stuff, and your outfit is like so hot, but I have to be honest with you, I just can’t date you right now. I mean, not just you, but anyone. I just need to be alone for a while. I hope you can understand,” she said, focusing intently on the tablecloth and hoping he was taking it okay. She was afraid to look at him. She couldn’t stand hurting anyone’s feelings. “I mean, I don’t want to lead you on, or anything.”
When she finally did look up, Diego’s dark brown eyes were all watery and his knuckles were turning white as he gripped the edge of the table. “Lola, stop. Please,” he said, laughing so hard he was doubled over.
Well, it’s not like she’d meant to be funny! She was just trying to let him down easy! She sat there staring at him, eyes narrowed, arms folded across her chest, waiting for an explanation.
When he finally calmed down, he looked at her and said, “Please, don’t worry about it, okay? You’re not exactly my type.”
Not his type? What’s that supposed to mean? And who the hell does he think he is, laughing at me like that? “Oh, well fine,” she said, shrugging like she didn’t care, like she wasn’t the least bit offended. “I mean, I don’t exactly get why that’s so damn funny, but obviously you do.” She stood up and adjusted her miniskirt, which had risen up again. She’d never been so humiliated. She was going to find her mother and make her pay for this.
“Lola, sit down please,” he said.
“Um, no thanks. Although it’s been a real pleasure meeting you.” She rolled her eyes sarcastically.
“Lola, I’m sorry really. Look, I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said, looking at her and motioning for her to sit. “There’s a very good reason for what I just said.”
She looked at him, hands on hips, waiting. Oh, this ought to be good.
“I’m gay.” He looked at her and shrugged.
“You’re gay?” she repeated, raising her eyebrows and giving him a skeptical look, wondering if he was just saying that. But as she slowly sank back down onto her chair, she once again noticed the perfect brows, the buffed nails, and the fact that he wasn’t flirting with her. Of course, she thought. Now it all makes sense.
He leaned toward her and smiled, revealing a row of perfectly straight white teeth. “So tell me,” he said. “Where did you get that outfit? It’s genius.”
chapter thirty-eight
Anne’s eyes had been glued to the door for the past hour and a half, and she was really starting to hate herself for it. Here she was, at a wrap party full of some of the hottest stars (well, maybe not the hottest), and all she could think about was Chris and Ellie. It was totally pathetic, and she was really starting to get on her own nerves.
Jade had taken off in search of Ben, who had never quite made it back from the bar. What on earth does a cute, optimistic, happy girl like Jade see in a big loser like Ben, she wondered. Yeah, he had his share of problems, and Anne had firsthand knowledge of just how awful it can be when your parents decide to split. But it didn’t really seem like he was even trying to make it better. If anything, it almost seemed like he was using it as an excuse to mess up.
Then there were Lola and Diego. They were sitting right across the table from her, but they were so incredibly wrapped up in each other, it was like they were having their own private party in the midst of this big one. Diego seemed nice enough, and he was certainly gorgeous, but it was still kind of weird to see Lola so worked up over someone her mom had set her up with. She’d always made it sound like her mom could introduce her to Orlando Bloom and she would find a valid reason to reject him. But now, against all odds, there they were, in their own little world, heads close together, talking a mile a minute. Go figure.
Then there was the situation with her dad. As if it wasn’t weird enough to be hanging at the same party and being forced to realize that he was way more popular (and from the looks of it, having way more fun) than her, so far both times she’d run into him there’d been this mysterious pretty petite redhead permanently attached to his right arm.
Okay, maybe she wasn’t all that mysterious, since her dad had introduced her as Brooke, and had also mentioned something about her working in makeup or wardrobe. Or was it set design? Anne couldn’t specifically remember because she was way too freaked out by the fact that there even was a Brooke in his life. A Brooke who seemed way too comfortable hanging all over her dad and knew way too much about Anne. Were they a couple? And if so, why had her dad failed to mention it? It’s not like Anne wanted her dad to be alone for the rest of his life or anything; she just wasn’t sure she was ready for him to start dating just yet. Especially since she’d just started spending time with him again, and she really didn’t feel like sharing.
Thinking about her dad always made her think about her mom. And now she wondered if she wasn’t turning out to be exactly like her—and not in a good way. Her mom had obsessed over some guy to the point where she’d jeopardized her entire family, and now Anne was sitting here doing the same kind of thing.
Here she was, sitting at an overdecorated table (what was with all the big golden candelabras?) at what most people would consider to be a great party (if for no other reason than the free booze and drunken B-list celebs), and she wasn’t even enjoying it because she was too busy thinking about some guy who didn’t even have the decency to show up. It was truly pathetic.
“Hey, you guys,” she said, trying to get Lola’s and Diego’s attention. She was determined to have some fun. “You wanna walk around and eavesdrop on the stars or something?”
They both turned to look at her with forced patience. Then, simultaneously shaking their heads no, they immediately went back to their private conversation. Fine, then. I’ll have fun by myself, Anne thought, grabbing her purse and getting up from the table.
Spying Duncan across the room, she made a beeline right for him. “What are you drinking?” she asked, peering at his tall glass filled with clear, bubbly liquid with a wedge of lime suspended in the middle.
“Club soda,” he said, smiling sheepishly.
“It’s an open bar, you know.” She laughed, shaking her head.
“Yeah, but my dad will kill me if anything happens to his car, so I’m not taking any chances.” He shrugged. “So where is everybody?”
“Well, I just left the two new lovebirds,” Anne said, pointing at Lola and Diego.
“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Duncan asked.
“Who knows?” Anne shrugged. “Also, I’m kind of avoiding my dad because I don’t really want to know that he has a new girlfriend, even though it’s obvious that he does. Not to mention I thought Chris would have been here by now, but apparently he’s still at Ellie’s,” she said, sounding bitter even though she’d aimed for nonchalance.
“Chris is at Ellie’s?” Duncan asked, eyes going wide.
“Yeah,” Anne said, feeling suddenly really uncomfortable. “You didn’t know?”
“Not exactly.” He shook his head. “I invited her tonight and she said she wasn’t feeling well and had to rest up, since the Surf Fest thing is in two weeks and her dad booked her a coach again for tomorrow. She didn’t say anything about Chris being with her.” He looked upset.
Great, thought Anne. It’s not enough that my love life sucks. Now I had to go and wreck Duncan’s as well. “Oh, well, Chris told me they were assigned as lab partners, and they were just starting a project and got a little behind. But he’d meet me here later,” she said, shrugging as she looked toward the door. “I stopped holding my breath about an hour ago.” She smiled.
“I should have known,” Duncan said, shaking his head. “It’s always been about Chris.”
“What’re you talking about?” Anne asked, fearing what he was about to say, yet still needing to hear it.
“Ellie’s liked Chris forever. It’s so obvious, but she thinks she’s the only one who knows. That night when we hooked up at the beach, I really thought she was finally getting over him. I should have known she was just trying to get back at him.”
“Get back at him for what?” Anne asked, confused.
“For liking you,” he said, looking right at her and taking a sip of his drink.
chapter thirty-nine
“Do you think everyone’s still here?” Ellie asked as Chris pulled up to the valet.
