by Krista McGee
Addy couldn’t wait for the whole thing to be over. The premiere was just a few more days away. The night after that, Jonathon would choose his Top Thirty. Addy was certain she would be the first to receive the “good-bye daisy” from him. She’d run back to the trailer and pack while the other sixty-nine girls vied for their “I’m so sad he didn’t pick me. We were made for each other” shot.
Addy turned around when she heard the canter of a horse behind her.
Jonathon Jackson pulled the reins on a powerful gray-and-white horse. “Oh, hi.”
Those eyes again. “Hi,” Addy said, the awkward silence broken only by the horse’s heavy breathing.
“Are you enjoying yourself?”
He was obviously trying to be polite. Addy was surprised at how pleased she felt at his attention. Then again, she was no different from the other girls. A silly teenager swooning over a cute boy.
“This is a beautiful place.” What an imbecile. She was alone with the president’s son and all she could think of was “This is a beautiful place”? She grimaced at the thought.
“Am I bothering you?” Jonathon asked.
She looked up and the vulnerability on his face shocked her. Was he actually feeling awkward around her? Or maybe afraid? She was, after all, the jerk who told him off.
Jonathon cleared his throat, jolting Addy from her thoughts.
“No. I’m sorry. Sometimes I just start thinking and forget to talk . . . That sounded stupid.” Addy closed her eyes and groaned, wishing she were anywhere but here.
He laughed, dismounted, and sat beside her on the grass. “You’re different,” he said with a smile.
An amazing smile, Addy noted. Perfect.
“What’s your name again?”
“Addy Davidson.” Holding out her hand to Jonathon, she added, “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Really?” He gave her a teasing grin. “I never would’ve guessed from our first meeting.” He took her hand and shook it.
Addy’s ears heated. She quickly dropped his hand and looked down. “Okay, so I’m not thrilled to be here.”
Jonathon glanced around and whispered, “Can I be totally honest with you?”
Addy was again struck by the look in Jonathon’s eyes. More than vulnerable. Almost childlike. Her heart softened for a moment. Maybe he isn’t so bad.
Or maybe this was a trick. Maybe Jonathon was just like Hank—putting on a show when people were around so he’d look good for the cameras. Of course that’s what he was doing. How could Jonathon be any different from Hank? He was the one starring in the show, after all. She’d already been embarrassed by Hank. And by her own stupidity in what she said to Jonathon at their first meeting.
No more. I’ve done enough damage. I’m keeping my mouth shut until I’m on that plane home.
“Addy?” He looked at her, his eyebrows raised.
“Actually, Jonathon, I need to go. I’m sorry. I’m sure one of the other girls would be happy to talk with you, though. Would you like me to send one of them out?”
“No thanks. I just thought—” He cut himself off, looking completely bewildered.
“I’ll see you later.” With that, Addy walked away as fast as she could. She didn’t slow down until she heard the pounding of the horse’s hooves fading in the distance.
The roar of the paparazzi soon replaced that sound and Addy was again assaulted for information, pictures, and guesses about what was next. She pushed her way through the crowd of lights and cameras, groaning.
How many hours until she’d be free from this picturesque prison?
Kara
BOOK OF LOVE: So, Kara, tell us a little about how you made it here to The Book of Love.
KARA: I had my father bribe the principal . . . (she laughs). Really, it all happened so fast. The hardest part was packing. I mean, really, one suitcase? One? And everything has to be in those tiny little bottles. Do you see all this hair? Three ounces is barely enough for one shampoo. What is the world coming to when a teenage girl is only allowed one suitcase and a few tiny bottles of hair products? It’s terrible. What was your question again? How did I make it here? I’ll bet Mrs. Kawolski is watching this, wondering the same thing. I don’t know. Maybe my dad did bribe her. I sure hope she gets something outta this.
BOL: I can certainly see that famous New York spunk in you, Kara. Was it hard leaving home and coming down here to Nashville for the show?
KARA: Leaving home was hard. I’ve never been away from my folks for more than a week—and that was just for summer camp. Pop kept trying to convince me to let him come along—be my bodyguard. But as you know, this place is crawling with bodyguards, and we’re kept under pretty tight reins. So, Pop, don’t worry. I’m fine. Being in Tennessee, though (she whistles). People are so nice. We’ve got caterers here and cleaning people, hair and makeup folks, and they’re all so friendly. And those accents. I am determined to learn how to talk like them before I leave. Hi, y’all. How’re you doin’ toda-ay?
BOL: (Laughs) Keep working on that southern drawl, Kara. Now, what do you like to do in your spare time?
KARA: Spare time? What’s that? (She laughs) I keep pretty busy. School, of course, is my main priority right now. If I can just get through chemistry and trig without my brain melting, I’ll be happy. After school, I am either in dance, voice, or acting lessons, at rehearsals, or hanging out at the mall with my friends. When I’m not doing those things, I’m home with the folks watching reality TV shows. I love reality TV (she winks).
BOL: I have a feeling reality TV is going to love you. Now, Kara, for the last question: Describe “The Perfect Boy.”
KARA: Isn’t that an oxymoron? Just kidding. The perfect boy? For me, I’d want someone just like my pop. He’s awesome. He knows how to make me laugh when I’m getting upset. He listens and offers just enough advice, but not so much that I feel like I’m being told what to do. He is fun and silly and he’s always there for me.
BOL: Sounds like your dad is a great guy.
KARA: He is . . . Did he pay you to say that?
BOL: No, did he pay you?
KARA: (Laughing) That was a good one. Thanks for the interview.
BOL: Hey, that’s my line. Thank you, Kara. I’d wish you good luck, but I don’t think you’re going to need it.
Chapter 5
Okay, ladies, you watch the show as America watches it. We’re putting it up on the big screen outside so you’ll all get to see it.” Hank had really poured it on earlier that afternoon, and the girls had shrieked their excitement.
“The show will start right at eight o’clock tonight. You are sitting in your assigned seats, so make sure you go right there before the show. The cameramen have the seating assignments, so they can get shots of you during the show.”
The girl next to Addy, a petite blonde with a southern accent, leaned over to her. “We’re all the way in the back. How are the cameras going to be able to see us over all those tall girls in the front? It’s not fair.”
Addy shrugged. She had been thinking the same thing. But I don’t think this girl would appreciate that I think it’s a good thing.
“All right, girls.” Hank looked at his phone. “You just have a few hours to eat, get dressed, and be ready for makeup. You’d better get going.”
Most of the girls could hardly wait.
Addy’s mood, however, had only soured in the days since she met Jonathon in the woods. She hated the way she was acting.
This isn’t me. It’s some Frankenstein version of me: someone who is rude to boys and hates authorities and plots ways to escape uncomfortable situations.
Her uncle’s face came to mind uninvited. If he saw her right now, he would be so disappointed. He had taught her to always do what’s right, no matter the circumstances, to be kind to others no matter how they treated her. He had taught her to be like Jesus. But being selfish was just so much easier.
Uncle Mike would say she needed to apologize to Jonathon for being unkind. A
ddy hated apologizing. She did it because the guilt would eat at her until she did. But she still hated it.
In her trailer, Addy lay on her bed, trying to read. Realizing she had read the same page at least four times, she put down the book and closed her eyes.
“Don’t you want to get changed?” Kara, Addy’s trailer mate, asked.
Addy grimaced. She had managed to avoid conversation most of that week. With a hundred girls crawling around the grounds, the trailers were stuffed to capacity. Addy’s trailer had four girls in it—and most of the time, the other three girls were off having fun together. Hank had arranged game nights, bowling tournaments, and movies on the big screen for them. Kara and her other trailer mates had been enjoying all the show had to offer, and Addy was more than happy to stay behind in the quiet trailer and read.
Though the girls were required to spend the mornings doing schoolwork, Addy found that three hours wasn’t enough. So she spent her afternoons finishing assignments and getting ahead on others. She enjoyed the independent study. No waiting around for her classmates to finish assignments or ask questions that had already been answered in the teachers’ lectures. The other girls thought her a little odd for enjoying her schoolwork so much. Most of them did just enough to say they were done, then spent the rest of their study time texting friends back home or updating their Facebook or Twitter statuses.
Kara had invited her to all the events the others attended. But Addy declined. Having to hear all the giggling and squealing at mealtimes and meetings was enough. Addy felt some guilt over that.
If God really wants me here, then I really should try to be a better example. Of course, if he doesn’t want me here, then I might as well just lie low and wait to get kicked off with the other sixty-nine girls.
“Addy,” Kara asked again. “Hello. Are you changing before the premiere? There are some awesome clothes in the costume trailer. And they’re free. I got this.” She twirled around in a ruffled white skirt, teal tank top, and cropped jacket. “I’m sure we could find something for you too.”
“No, I don’t want to create any more laundry to bring home.” Please, just leave me alone.
No such luck. Kara walked over to Addy’s bed and sat at her feet. “You really don’t want to be here?”
“No.” Addy sat up and stretched. “No offense, but I am not interested in parading myself around to get the attention of a boy.”
Kara didn’t say anything but remained sitting on Addy’s bed.
I’m a jerk, Addy thought. Why am I acting like this? “I’m sorry, Kara. I shouldn’t have said that. I just want to go home.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m from New York. I’m used to people saying what they do and don’t want.”
Addy laughed. Maybe Kara wasn’t so bad. She was certainly pretty. Kara had deep auburn hair that hung halfway down her back, huge green eyes, and the body of a dancer. She looked the part of a beauty queen wannabe, which was the primary reason Addy had avoided her. She assumed all the girls here were brainless beauties looking for attention. But anyone who could handle Addy at her rudest couldn’t be that bad.
“So you really think we’re all here just because we want to go to prom with the handsome Mr. Jackson?” Kara raised an eyebrow.
“Well . . . yes.” Addy shrugged. “Aren’t you?”
“I’m not going to lie—he is a whole lot cuter than the boys in my high school. But I’ve got much bigger plans than going to prom.”
“Really? What are they?”
“I’m going to be a world-famous actress.”
Addy gave a slow nod.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Listen, missy. I know nothing, and that wasn’t a nothing nothing. That was a something nothing. So spill it.” Kara leaned in. “You don’t think much of actresses, huh?”
“How can you get that from one word?” Addy sat up and hugged her knees to her chest.
“Why are you avoiding my question?”
“We’re all entitled to our own dreams. Yours is to be an actress. That’s great. I wish you luck.”
“Could you be more condescending?” Kara crossed her legs. “If I do nothing else the entire time I am on this show—which will be the entire show, including prom with the young Mr. Jackson—I will get you to talk, Miss Davidson. So you can talk now, or I can keep talking until you talk. What’s it gonna be?”
Addy shook her head and bit her lip to keep from smiling. “Forget acting. You should be a lawyer.”
“Whatever. Stop changing the subject, smarty-pants. You don’t think highly of actors because . . . ?”
Addy took a deep breath and looked at Kara. “What’s the point? I mean, really, if you make it—and that’s a huge ‘if’—you’re hounded by the press and every aspect of your life is scrutinized. And how many actors are normal? No drug problems, no messed-up marriages, no botched plastic surgeries? Other than the money, what’s so great about it?”
“What’s so great is that it’s what I want to do more than anything else in the whole world.” Kara waved her long, graceful arms all around the already-crowded trailer to make her point. “I want to move people. Actresses can be part of something bigger than themselves. We can make people think. We can make statements. We can change the world.”
Addy laughed. She liked this girl.
“What are you laughing about, Addy?”
“Sorry.” Addy coughed. “You’re just so . . . dramatic.”
“Thank you.” Kara took a bow.
Suddenly, a voice at the door barked that the viewing would begin in forty-five minutes. They needed to be out on the lawn “pronto.”
“C’mon, roomie,” Kara said. “It’s time for our close-up.”
Ready or not, here I come.
Chapter 6
Addy, you’ve got to see this.” Kara was shaking Addy awake, pulling on her arm so hard Addy had to sit up or fall out of bed.
“What in the world are you doing? I’m tired.” Addy wrenched her arm free and picked up the alarm clock on her nightstand. “It’s six thirty in the morning.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Kara laid her computer on Addy’s lap. “Look.”
“Chad Beacon?” Addy stared at the computer screen. The America’s Next Star winner had his mouth wide open in a shot from last night’s show. He had sung “The Book of Love” at the premiere.
“Oh, sorry.” Kara grabbed the computer and stared. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he? I mean, look at him. I hate to say it, but he’s even cuter than Jonathon. That blond hair. All those muscles. And he must be, what, six foot three at least?”
Addy groaned. “Yes, he’s cute. You really needed to wake me up at six thirty to tell me that?”
“No. I’m talking to you about the show. I just got sidetracked.”
Addy rubbed her eyes. “Your point?”
“People started blogging as soon as the show ended. The Book of Love was the hottest show on television last night. Over fifteen million people watched. Fifteen million. Do you have any idea how huge that is? Of course you don’t. Let me just tell you, it’s major. No show has those kinds of numbers on the first night. Most shows are happy to have half that. A third is great. And get this, they loved it. Loved it. All the major websites have our pictures front and center. I have fifteen hundred friend requests on Facebook.”
Addy yawned. Why couldn’t she have been given a roommate who was mute? And comatose. But without all the machines making beeping noises.
“Addy. Did you hear me? Snap out of it. We’re famous!”
“I heard you. People in Kentucky heard you. And, again, I don’t want to be famous. I want to be asleep.”
“Too bad,” Kara chirped, grabbing her laptop and setting it on Addy’s bed. “Because you, my reluctant celebrity, are the sound bite from last night’s show.”
“What?”
Kara tapped her computer and Addy heard herself talking to Jonathon through the tinny speakers. “Hello, Jonathon. My na
me is Addy Davidson. I have no desire to be part of this ‘competition,’ and I suggest my name be the very first you take off the list.”
She lay back down and threw the blanket over her head. “No, no, no, no, no . . .”
Laughing, Kara ripped off the blanket. “Addy, this is everywhere. People love you. Or hate you. But who cares! They know your name. Look, I just Googled Addy Davidson and there are 85,641 hits. Listen to this: ‘Addy Davidson might just be the smartest eleventh grader in the country. While the other girls were prepared with flowery words and blinding smiles, Addy hit below the belt. Jonathon Jackson might have been shocked, but America is in love.’”
Oh, God. Please let me still be sleeping. Let this just be the world’s worst nightmare.
“Addy. Say something.”
“I think I’ve said enough. This is crazy. Why me? I don’t want this. I want to go home and fill out college applications and read books.”
Addy shut Kara’s computer, walked to their tiny bathroom, and slammed the door behind her. She turned to the mirror and examined herself. Her hair was all over the place—completed by a huge bump around the center of her head where her hair had been in a ponytail the day before. Her eyes were puffy and her face had lines from her pillowcase imprinted on it. Not the prettiest sight to see.
And now that face and hair were being broadcast all over the Internet. People were logging on to see her and comment about her and criticize her.
Addy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Why was this happening to her? Why couldn’t Kara be the “sound bite”? She would have loved it.
The rest of the morning went by in a torturous blur. Hank called to demand that Addy make an appearance so the press could get a shot of her. She walked into The Mansion with a bodyguard to protect her from the hundreds of cameras, newspeople, and screaming teenage girls who either thought she was their hero or cursed her for being such a jerk to “Jahhhhnathuhn.”
