by Jen Calonita
"He is?" I feel proud watching him run down the torn-up field cradling the stick, dodging his opponents. I pay strict attention to the rest of the game, even turning off my cell phone and Sidekick (Nadine and Laney are going to kill me) so that I can watch Austin's every move. Well, when I'm not greeting students, that is. I have such guilt over my disguise at Clark that I don't let Rodney turn away anyone who wants my autograph or a picture. By the fourth quarter, I've seen al most everyone I knew, including my old history teacher, Mr. Klein, who still looks peeved that I didn't hand in my extra-credit paper.
With the score twelve to six, and two minutes left in the game, I'm standing on my feet screaming along with the rest of the school and Rodney, who is jumping so hard the stands seem to be swaying. When the final buzzer sounds and the students have officially beat Coach Connor and the rest of the faculty, I hug everyone around me. One guy holds on so tight that Rodney has to pry him off. According to Hayley's bookkeeping, Austin scored one goal, two saves, and one assist.
People pour out of the bleachers and descend upon the field to join in the celebration. I see Lori push her way to wards Austin, but thankfully the crowd is too large for her to get to him. I watch Austin and the other lacrosse players hoist a large jug full of Gatorade over Coach Connor's head. Ice rains down on Austins dictatorial coach, and he actually laughs.
"Aren't you going down there?" Rodney asks. The two of us seem to be the last ones in the bleachers. I shake my head.
"I think I'll let Austin enjoy the moment." I watch Austin take the mic and hush the large crowd.
"Thanks to everyone for coming out today to help us raise money for our trip," Austin's voice echoes across the field. "Man, you guys are generous. The total isn't official yet, but it looks like we've raised over three thousand dollars. Thank you!" A loud roar erupts from the crowd.
A camera flashes in our direction and I look down to see a few people taking pictures of me instead of the jubilation on the field.
"Your being here is definitely going to make the papers," Rodney growls, staring at one of the amateur photographers.
I shrug. "It was worth it," I add as the team finally leaves the revelers behind and heads up the path to the gym to get to the locker rooms. As they pass by the bleachers, one of Austin's teammates points to me. My heart seems to stop al together as he turns and bounds up the steps towards me. Rodney slips away and parks himself at the bottom of the section to keep the spies at bay.
"Hey," I squeak as Austin stops short at the bench below mine. I stand perfectly still with my hands clenched in my jean pockets, trying to think of the perfect supportive girl friend thing to say. "Great game," I blurt. UGH. Lame.
Austin takes a swig from his water bottle. "I didn't expect to see you here." He's out of breath.
"At the last minute, I got the afternoon off," I explain. "I'm glad I got to see you play You--you've got great stick skills," I stammer, trying to repeat what Rodney told me. "And that assist you made in the fourth quarter was amazing."
Austin smirks. "Since when do you know lacrosse-speak?"
"I've been studying," I lie. "Today I know you scored a goals, two saves, and one assist."
Austin laughs. "Keep going. It's going to take more than knowing today's score to get you out of the hot water you're in, Burke."
"I knew you were mad about that scene I did with Drew!" I say accusingly. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"Thinking about Drew kissing you was driving me crazy," Austin admits. "But I hate fighting over the phone. Lori and I did that all the time and it drove me nuts. I think it's bet ter to talk about things face-to-face, like we tried doing last week." Austin wipes the sweat from his drenched hair. "With your hectic schedule, I wasn't sure when that would be so I kept talking about the charity game to keep us from talking about the real problem here."
"Oh." I pull my hands inside the sleeves of my sweater. "Can I talk first? I want to apologize for jumping down your throat the other day. When you started talking Hollywood with me, I got bent out of shape."
"I was trying to help you." Austin takes a seat on his bench and I sit alone on mine. The sun has slipped behind the gathering clouds, and I shiver. "Has anyone ever told you you're not very good at taking advice?" he asks.
"Occasionally." I think of Nadine and Laney. "I wanted to finish our discussion after I shot the scene. But you bailed out of there without even saying goodbye."
"Can you blame me?" Austin asks indignantly. "I wasn't going to sit there and applaud. Who wants to watch his girl friend suck face with another guy?"
I think of how I felt to watch Lori near Austin again. Truthfully I wanted to rip her to pieces. "Nobody," I agree. "But I had no idea Drew was going to pull a stunt like that. We didn't have a kiss scheduled. Do you really think I would have invited you to watch me shoot a love scene?"
HOLLYWOOD SECRET NUMBER TWELVE: You've probably heard actors claim this and I can attest that it's really true: filming love scenes is not a romantic experience at all. On screen, a make-out session looks like three minutes of pure heaven. But it's not. Those three minutes took HOURS to film. HOURS. Imagine lying there, in some cases, half-naked (though I'm not talking about myself, since I have a "no nudity" clause in my contracts), with a camera inches from your face, a crew of twenty standing around you, and a director yelling things like, "Use more lip, Kaitlin! Turn your head slightly to the left. Now hold it! Drew, put your hand on Kaitlin's hip, stay there, and action!" Then you have to do the shot again, from several more angles. It's too technical and awkward to be romantic, even if the guy you're kissing is cute. And don't get me started about the guys I've locked lips with who've skipped the Listerine. Ewww...
Austin grabs his head with his hands and groans like I'm killing him. "I'm sick of fighting. We've been fighting on and off for over a week."
I slide down next to him. "I know. I don't want to fight anymore either. I'm going to make things up to you," I prom ise. "I'm taking you on the best date EVER."
He looks at me skeptically. "When?"
"August twelfth."
He laughs loudly. "That's a month away! Is that your next day off?"
"No, it's the date of the Teen Titan Awards. I'm hosting with Drew." Austin raises an eyebrow. "But you're going to be my date," I add.
"Seriously?" He's intrigued, I can tell. "Do I have to, like, escort you down the red carpet or something?"
I think for a minute. "Yeah, and you get to be my date at all the parties that night and at the cool gift suite they usu ally have backstage. There's a lot of perks to sticking with me through this lousy movie shoot," I point out. "I'm also book ing you for the Hollywood Girl Awards, which are coming up. They're honoring me and I want you to be there."
He touches my cheek. I close my eyes and enjoy the warmth of his hand. Who cares if my cheek is probably black and blue from Sky's jab?
"Is that a reason to date you, Burke?" Austin asks. "To go to awards shows and swanky parties? You should know me better than that."
"You're not like that, I know," I say softly. "I just want you to realize how much I want you in my life. This is the first time I've hosted anything before, and I want you there."
He leans forward and grabs my hands in his own, which are rough and dirty. "Then it's a date," he says.
I lean into his chest and he wraps his arms around me tightly. The warmth from his body seeps through my sweater, and I don't feel cold anymore.
"I heard from Principal P. that someone made an anony mous thousand-dollar donation to our lacrosse camp fund," Austin says. "You wouldn't happen to know anyone who would have that kind of money to donate, would you?"
"Not a clue," I mumble into Austin's chest.
"Well, if you find out who did it, tell them I said thanks," Austin whispers. "Now about that kiss with Drew," Austin continues. "Let me show you how it should have been done." I look up and Austin kisses me softly on my bruised lips. My whole body melts like marshmallows in hot cocoa. I guess Austi
n was just the medicine I needed.
FRIDAY 7/6
NOTE TO SELF:
Hook A up w/Nadine to get duds for Hollywood Girl party and TT Awards. :)
The Untitled Hutch Adams Project
SCRIPT CONTINUED
115 INT. ROB'S BEDROOM
We PAN ACROSS Rob's ultra-neat bedroom from the closet to the bed, where Rob is sleeping. Carly peeks out of the closet and hurries across the room to the edge of Rob's bed.
CARLY
Rob. Wake up. It's me.
ROB
Carly! Are you okay? We've been looking everywhere for you!
CARLY
Rob, you've got to listen closely. Get dressed. You've got to leave with me before they come after you too.
ROB
Carly, you need help. Let us help you.
CARLY
Us? Rob, don't tell me they've gotten to you.
(She begins looking for an escape as Rob talks.)
ROB
You don't have to be afraid anymore, Carly. Just come downstairs and talk to Mom and Dad. Tell them you were wrong. Everything will go back to normal.
CARLY
Listen to yourself. They're brainwashing you! They're mak ing you think the changes that are happening to our bod ies and minds are a good thing. Do you think normal people can leap across buildings, Rob?
ROB
They're doing this for the greater good. You're missing what's at stake here.
CARLY
(backs up to the window and tries to pry it open behind her without Rob seeing) There's still time, Rob. Leave with me.
ROB
I'm sorry, Carly. You obviously don't get it and you've left me no choice. (yelling) MOM! DAD! MRS. MURPHY! SHE'S HERE!
THIrTEEN: Matty's Debut
"There's still time, Rob," I whisper breathlessly as I try to pry the window open behind me. "Leave with me."
Matty stands across from me wearing a long-sleeved blue flannel and gray sweatpants. His blond hair has the perfect bed-head look. His expression is steely. "I'm sorry Carly," he says coldly. "You obviously don't get it and you've left me no choice."
Wow, Matty sounds so convincing! My eyes widen and I express a range of emotions quickly--shock that my brother is betraying me, hurt that he doesn't believe me, fear that I'm about to be captured. I know what I have to do. I pull the fake window up and place one leg over the frame, pretending to look down at the ground, which is supposed to be three stories away. It's actually only six feet down. I can see the air mattress and two spotters waiting for my fall. I look back at Matty with a look of horror. He points at me.
"MOM! DAD!" he yells at the top of his lungs. "MRS. MURPHY! SHE'S HERE!"
Footsteps approach rapidly and seconds later the door to Rob's room is being rammed open by two large men who look like they were borrowed from World Wrestling. One of them is Rodney.
"STOP HER!" he bellows menacingly as he charges towards me.
With one last fleeting look at Matty or should I say Rob, I throw my other leg over the frame, duck my head, and jump. I hit the soft pillow and bounce up and down for a moment, enjoying the adrenaline rush.
"EXCELLENT work, you two!" Hutch says through his megaphone. The dark-haired spotter offers me his hand and I grab it and jump off the mattress. I walk around the fake exterior wall behind Rob's bedroom to the front, where the three-walled two-story set is constructed down to the tini est detail (there's a half-eaten veggie burger sitting on Rob's nightstand). Hutch and the crew are in one corner and my parents are congratulating Matty in another. While the crew sets up the next angle to be shot for the scene, I run over and give Matty a fierce bear hug.
"I'm so proud of you," I gush. "You were unbelievable in that scene. I seriously feared for my safety."
Matty blushes. "Did you really think I was good?" he asks anxiously.
"You were great," I reply truthfully. "After that scene, I'd act alongside you any day" Matty smiles shyly.
"Matty, you had such inner strength," my mom marvels.
"It was definitely a leading-man moment," my dad seconds.
Matt takes a swig of water from the bottle he's holding. "It was nothing really," he says, sounding more confident. "I knew if my sister was going to betray the organization I loved, I had to take her down." He stands perfectly still as the makeup artist applies powder to his shiny nose. She turns to me and adds more powder and another swab of pale pink lip gloss.
"What about me?" Rodney says as he joins us. "Was I intimidating?" He seems very excited. This was Rodney's first scene too.
"Definitely," I agree. "I jumped, didn't I?" He punches me softly in the arm. "How are you doing, Mr. B., Mrs. B?" Rod ney asks my parents. "Have you been to Matty's trailer yet?" While my folks have been to the set numerous times al ready, even if it's just to drop off some new tabloid story, this is the first time they're seeing Matt's home away from home.
Hutch interrupts us, putting an arm each around Matt and me and I feel myself tense. "We're not going to do an other take, guys," he says, tugging on his goatee. "I think we have all the setups we need for this shot. You can take a well-deserved forty-minute break while we set up the library set. I want to look over the script one more time and see if anything needs tweaking." What? Hutch sounds bizarrely cheerful. "Enjoy it and keep that motivation pump ing, Kaitlin and Matt," he adds. "We'll see you over there." Hutch winks at my mother, shakes my dad's hand, lowers his trademark shades, and is gone.
"He doesn't act like he hates you, Katie-Kins," my dad whis pers encouragingly. "Hollywood Nation must have it wrong."
My face darkens. Mom gave me the article Dad is refer ring to when I arrived home from Austins charity game. When I read it, I actually cried. I know better than anyone that a lot of these stories are made up, but this one was so on the mark with what I've been feeling lately that I couldn't stop myself. The "source" in the story said that the reason Hutch has been so difficult on set is that he feels he made a huge mistake in casting me over Sky to play Carly. The story went on to explain that Hutch thought I was a bad actor and difficult to work with. Laney was furious. "These types of articles could ruin your renewed likeability factor!" she yelled. I wonder if Hutch has seen the article. Usually when an article about him appears in the press, his mood turns from icy to downright blizzard conditions.
"You really don't know why Hutch is being so compli mentary?" Matt asks. I shake my head. "Haven't you noticed the Premiere reporter sitting next to him all morning?"
I look over at Hutch, who is deep in conversation with Daniella and Liz and a redhead I don't recognize. She steps back and begins writing furiously in her notebook. Oh.
"Let's see your trailer, Matty," Mom suggests. She gathers up her new dark brown leather Miu Miu purse, her maga zines (she hasn't mentioned any new stories--yet), and her large bottle of Fiji water, and heads to the waiting golf cart that will bring us back to the trailers.
"We don't have to go there, Mom." Matt looks alarmed. "Let's just go back to Kaitlin's trailer instead. It's closer."
"Nonsense." Dad pats Matt on the back. "I want to see the piece of machinery you're calling home these days. Do you happen to know what cylinder the engine is?"
I try to get Matt's attention as we drive across the lot to the parked trailers to reassure him that his trailer is fine, but he won't look at me. When we pull up outside the sixty-five-foot Honeywagon, Mom actually whistles.
"This is bigger than Kaitlin's!" She steps nimbly out of the cart in her three-inch spiky black sandals. Dad steadies her with his available arm and the two walk directly towards the first door they see.
"Uh, no, guys, you don't understand," Matt blurts out, racing to stop them before they open the door. "That one isn't mine. I'm the seventh door down."
"Seventh?" Mom is confused.
"He shares the trailer, Mom," I explain. "There's ten actors in this one and each has their own dressing room."
"Oh," Mom says quietly.
Matt
takes her by the arm and leads her to his room. He opens the metal door and we peer inside the tiny space. There's just enough room for a desk, mirror, and chair. The four of us, not counting Rodney, can barely squeeze inside.
"It's very nice for your first trailer, dear," Mom says lightly. She holds her head stiffly as if to avoid looking around.
"Thanks." Matt looks miserable. I put my arm on his shoulder, but he pushes it off.
"Where's the bathroom?" Dad asks, feeling the wall for a hidden door. "I should go before the next scene."
"Can we go to Kaitlin's trailer," Matt begs. "Please? That's really my trailer too. I can't fit all of my stuff in here."
Everyone is quiet on the ride over, but the silence is bro ken when we pull up to my trailer and hear Nadine and Liz yelling. Matt perks up immediately and bolts for the door.
"Were you two fighting?" he demands excitedly as the rest of us quickly follow him inside.
Nadine and Liz's sour expressions give it away. "What happened?" I ask nervously. Liz's eyes narrow as she looks from me to my parents.
"Could the three of us have a moment in private please?" she answers frostily leading the way from our crowded kitchen and living area to the bedroom. Nadine crosses her arms and marches ahead of me. I shut the door and turn on my CD player to keep the others from listening in.
"What's wrong?" I thought now that Austin and I made up, my personal life would be drama-free for a while.
Nadine glares at Liz. "I am sick and tired of Liz thinking she's above doing assistant work," she spits out angrily. "Wardrobe just yelled at me for not bringing back your out fit yesterday. That was something I asked Liz to do!"
"I was helping Daniella scout a new location for the coffee shop scene," Liz yells. "I thought that was more im portant than returning a pair of ripped jeans."
"You show up late for work, go for a long coffee break with Madison, and spend the afternoon with Daniella," Nadine charges. "When exactly do you think you're doing as sistant work, Liz?"
Liz shakes her head and looks at her pink Converse sneakers. "I'm not Kaitlin's real assistant," Liz seethes. "Kaitlin knows I'm here to work with Daniella."
