by Jen Calonita
"Kaitlin will be sure to bring them backstage," Mom tells Nancy. Nadine is standing behind Mom and she looks like she wants to scream.
"That would be lovely." Nancy beams. Wow, her veneers are blinding! "I must say hi to Margaret Beatrow--you should too, Meg. Join me?"
"Of course!" Mom air kisses me on both cheeks and gets glimmering pink gloss on my cheeks. "Katie-kins, I've got to dash, but I'll try to make it over to your booth if I can spare five minutes. Bye, girls!"
"I should keep an eye on her." Dad winks at me. "You never know what she'll sign me--or us--up for without asking." I grab his tie and straighten it before he walks off.
"Good idea, Mr. Burke," Nadine calls after him. "Keep us posted." Nadine turns to us. "People wants a few photos and a short interview about the play, but be prepared to answer questions about Lauren and Ava. Then you guys should eat before heading over to the booth. You only have twenty minutes."
"She means us, Liz. " Sky pokes Liz in the back, right above the new tattoo on her left shoulder. (It's the Japanese symbol for life. Liz is really proud of it, even if her dad was furious.) "Not you."
"Obviously," Liz snaps as she slides into a red leather banquette and dips a fork into the gooey mac and cheese already waiting. "I can't imagine having to defend myself to People. That's more your area of expertise, Sky. Kates, I'll make sure I save some bananas Foster for you. I hear it's killer here."
Sky's lip curls into a snarl and I pull her over to the reporter. Just as Nadine suspected, they ask our opinions about Ava and Lauren's latest video (Sky blasts the girls while I stand meekly in the background, afraid to say anything that might set the Paparazzi Twins off even more) and they ask us to give some tidbits about our upcoming turn on SNL. I talk a little bit about my play and the reporter tells me they're planning to review my turn in it in a few weeks. I'm not sure if that makes me excited or more nervous. Then talk turns to Sky's show.
"I'm just honored to be a part of such an amazing cast and I can't wait to get to work on such an important, highly life-changing program," Sky says, sounding as if she's accepting a Nobel Peace Prize rather than talking about her role as a ski bunny/sorority girl.
"So there is no truth to talk that your show's creator, Grady Travis, has battled the network over budget concerns?" the reporter asks.
Sky looks momentarily flustered and picks at one of the small crystals on her manicured thumb. "No. No, we're ready to roll in a few weeks. Up to Vancouver. I still have to find some chic cold-weather ensembles. They do have clubs up there, don't they?"
The reporter frowns. "I thought the production was moving to Los Angeles now. At least that was announced earlier today on the network website." She sticks her tape recorder closer to Sky's open mouth.
"I... I'm not sure what you're talking about," Sky says and starts tossing her hair all about like she always does when she's nervous. The reporter sneezes when Sky's hair brushes her face.
"Bless you! Los Angeles? For a show about Alaska?" I ask.
The reporter sneezes again as Sky's hair whacks her face another time. "Grady was peeved too. Rumor is he's going to pull the show altogether if they don't reconsider Vancouver."
Sky stops swinging. "What? That's impossible!"
Uh-oh. I've got to get her out of here before she says something she regrets. "Look at the time," I tell the reporter. "We really should use ChapStick before our lips get action at the booth. Will you excuse us?" I pull Sky through the crowded room back out to the covered garden. Her body is limp and easy to drag.
"She's got to be wrong, right, K?" Sky sticks a powder-pink thumbnail in her mouth, biting down, which is something I've never seen her do before. "I mean, yeah, I'd rather be in Los Angeles, which is where I thought we were shooting originally, but now I'm kind of psyched for Vancouver and the show may not fly at all? We just had a cast round table at the upfronts! Grady was thrilled about the show. He can't pull it."
"Calm down," I tell Sky and sit her down in a chair near the booth. I hand her a ChapStick from a large fish bowl.
The kissing prep table is covered with lip-quenching products, mirrors, and perfumes. All things to help a star be more kissable if they choose not to use wax lips. Not that some of us need help in that area. There's a line for Zac Efron's table that wraps around the restaurant. To take Sky's mind off the show, I wave Vanessa over and we talk about upcoming L.A. parties. Then Sky and I apologize about a zillion times for the poseurs that tried to liplock Zac at MyHouse the other night. She knew it wasn't us, of course, but it still makes me mad that Lauren and Ava tried to make her think otherwise.
Sky looks fornlornly at the mirror in front of her. "I need to be on a show, K. I have to have a show to go back to. What would I do? I have to work. I have to. I love working! I love TV! I can't imagine the new season starting and not being a part of it. Not having a cast to be part of or a soundstage to show up to every day. Can you?"
"Um, I sort of have to," I joke, but I look down and pull a little at the hem of my dress. It still hurts to think about.
"That's right!" Sky's jaw drops. "You don't have a TV contract. Just this little summer thingie."
"The summer thingie happens to be Broadway," I say indignantly. "Now stop worrying. You can call your agent tomorrow. Right now we have some kissing to do."
Sky takes a deep breath and reapplies her gloss in the mirror for the zillionth time. She makes a few practice fish kisses at the mirror. "You're right. I have to be professional. I'm sure there are tons of people waiting to pucker up to me."
"Exactly." We head over to the booth, or should I say table. There is a large sign behind it that says "Read My Lips." Clever when you remember this is for a reading organization.
Liz meets us at the table, and I see Sky scowl.
"Thank God you're here, Lizzie," I say quickly. "Sky is going to have a huge line, so you can help us do crowd control."
Liz practically chokes on the French fry she's eating. "I doubt that. I'm here to take pictures of you being naughty." Liz side-eyes Sky. "If you ever tick me off, Kates, I can use the photos for collateral." I have a feeling that's a thinly veiled threat toward Sky, but I don't say anything. Liz pulls me aside. "Did you tell Austin you were doing this?"
I shake my head, and Liz's smoky eyes drop. "Should I have?" I squeak.
Liz groans. "Kates, you're doing a kissing booth! You know, kissing other people. Austin would want to know."
"I'm kissing people for charity!" I insist. "That's different." I bite my lip. "Right?"
Liz stuffs another fry in her mouth. She mumbles, but I watch her mouth and can make out everything she's saying. "I'm not saying you shouldn't be doing this, I'm just saying your boyfriend, who is thousands of miles away, might want to know before he sees the photos in People. If I were you, I would call him ASAP. "
Liz is right. I'm such an idiot! This is something I should have told Austin about. Not the cute little Rebecca Taylor tank I scored half off at a sale. But in my defense, it's not like I've kept tonight from him. We haven't talked in three long days. We keep missing each other's calls, and then with the time change we never get to talk at night. We text, but I'm starting to see it's really not the same thing.
We didn't talk today either. It's almost as if... no, I couldn't have... forgotten to call him. I'm getting frustrated. Already. And we've got a long time apart to go.
"I'll call him as soon as we're done," I promise Liz.
"Do you have your wax lips, girls?" Olivia walks over and holds out a few extra pairs. I hold up mine, and Sky grabs a pair from Olivia this time. ("Just in case," she tells me.)
I'm still feeling a little anxious about this Austin snafu, but the People photographer is waiting, so I push the thoughts aside. The photographer takes photos of Sky and me hamming it up. I hold my wax lips by my butt and Sky kisses them. Then we pretend to hold our wax lips up and let them kiss. Sky even has her wax lips kiss a photo of Ava and Lauren that a fan brought.
"I'll start
the clock NOW, " Olivia tells us when we're finished with pictures. She clicks a little electronic timer. "If you have a longer line, we can always add time, okay? Have fun!"
We do! We kiss a bunch of cute, chubby babies, some nervous teen boys, and some stuffy society types. Some of our celeb friends pop over too, like Channing Tatum, Jimmy Fallon, and Chace Crawford (who I don't think either of us minded kissing). As I hand a baby back to his mother, I look up and see Dylan. He's wearing a crisp white button-down shirt that is unbuttoned at his neck, a black vest, and dark denim pants. He smiles and my palms start to sweat, which is so weird.
"Not shabby, Burke," Dylan says, and before I can say hi, I realize what he's said and freeze.
"What did you call me?" I ask, momentarily stunned.
Dylan's smile fades. "Burke. Isn't that your last name?"
I nod slowly and then try to compose myself. "Yeah. It's just. Nothing." I laugh it off, but I start playing with my bracelets anyway. "My boyfriend calls me Burke."
Dylan nods. "I guess that's why you look like you've seen a ghost! Sorry about that. I bet you're itching to get back to L.A. next week and see him."
"I am," I admit. "What are you doing off tonight?"
"Understudies are getting their due," Dylan tells me. "Since our lovely leading lady doesn't start for a few more weeks, Forest is rotating in the second players and giving us blokes a few nights off. Did you get my message on your mobile?"
I nod. "About dinner at the Monkey Bar on Monday night? Yes."
"Can you go?" he asks. "I want to check out some of these scene-y haunts, and I thought you might too."
My heart beats a little faster, and I blush. "I do," I can't help saying. And it would be totally fun with Dylan. Then I think of Austin again. "But I have to check my schedule."
Dylan nods. "Sure. We can run lines beforehand too, if you're free. I know you're a bit worried about the second act. I made some notes on a script for you. I would have brought it tonight if I'd known you'd be here."
Dylan is really sweet. "Thanks. That's so nice."
"No problem," Dylan says and fingers a button on his vest. "I'm here with Riley tonight, but I lost her by the mob at Zac Efron's table."
I start to frown. I can't help myself. Dylan laughs.
"You're not a fan of Riley's, I know. She's giving you a rough go, huh?" Dylan asks.
"No, not really," I lie. But she is. If I have to hear, "Maybe you do it in the movies that way, but, Kaitlin, in theater we stand like this, so our voices carry. I thought you would have known that" one more time, I may cry.
"She's tough, but I promise she's a cub once you get to know her," Dylan says. "She and Meg were fierce mates. She just misses her."
"Who is this?" Sky drapes herself over my shoulder. "K, aren't you going to introduce me?"
"And me?" Liz grabs Dylan's hand. "Hi. I'm Kaitlin's best friend, Liz. We'll be seeing each other a lot this summer, seeing as how I'm in town for a writing and directing workshop at NYU."
"A university girl." Dylan's eyes twinkle. "Cool."
"I'll be in town too for various things as well," Sky coos.
For two girls who have boyfriends, they sure are worked up over Dylan. They're all over him! Not that I can blame them. He's a dish. A very, very hot dish.
I make the introductions. "Sky, Liz, meet Dylan. Dylan, meet Liz and Sky. Sky was my costar on Family Affair. Dylan is my colleague in Meeting of the Minds."
"Lucky you." Sky runs her big brown eyes over Dylan and shakes his hand. "Are you here for a kiss?"
Dylan looks at where he's standing--at the front of the line--and laughs. "I guess so, since I'm queuing. Which one of you wants to go first?"
"Queuing?" Sky asks.
"Oh, you Americans say in line, right?" Dylan asks.
Sky and Liz can only manage nods. They've turned into mush.
"Queue, line, who cares." Sky is massaging his shoulder, and Dylan looks a little uncomfortable. "Do you want a kiss? I'm ready!"
I can't help but blush. I feel strange kissing Dylan. We share one kiss in the play, near the end of the second act, but we haven't rehearsed it yet, and I feel weirdly glad about that. I don't want to get practice in now.
"There you are," Riley says as she pushes her way to the front of the line. "Oh, hi, Kaitlin." She sees me and smiles coldly, which goes well with the ice-blue halter top she's wearing with skinny black trousers. I wouldn't expect the blue to look good with her pale coloring, but it works for Riley, not that I would tell her that. "What are you doing here?" she asks. "I thought Forest might have had you make a go of the show for practice tonight. All the second-string players are performing. I guess he didn't think you were ready."
"This must be Riley." Liz looks at her sharply.
"You think?" Sky seconds. "What gave it away? The bony butt or the frigid attitude?"
"Excuse me?" Riley asks. "These two are cheeky. Are they your friends?"
"Yes," I tell her, raising my chin proudly.
"Were you referring to both of us?" Liz asks, pointing to Sky. I shoot her a look.
Riley nods. "It's so nice to have friends in town. Mine are across the pond. I can't be distracted. Theater is a lot of work and I like to concentrate fully on my character development."
"I'm sure Kaitlin does too, Riley," Dylan says gently and winks at me.
"Absolutely," Riley agrees. "She's devoted so much of her time to studies," she tells Liz and Sky. "And she'll get it, I'm sure, eventually. Right, Kaitlin, dear? Like the lingo." Riley starts to chuckle. "Sorry, Kaitlin, I don't mean to laugh. It was just so charming that time you thought the ABTT was an ABBA Theater fan club!"
I color slightly. How was I supposed to know that the ABTT was the Association of British Theatre Technicians? This is all new to me, and quite frankly, I don't see what any of it has to do with whether or not I can actually act. And yet, I've never been so unsure of my acting.
"EWW. " Sky crosses her arms over her bustier top, crushing the silk and making me cringe, and stares rudely at Riley.
"Excuse me?" Riley asks, trying to smile, but not succeeding. "Was I talking to you?"
"Thank God, no, but I'm talking to you," Sky says. "Just for a sec, of course. I don't really like you. And I don't like you picking on K for not knowing some stupid tech term. Like, who cares? Let me ask you something: Do you know what a honeywagon is? Or what dress to camera means?"
Riley looks flustered. "No..."
"Those are movie set terms," Sky says smoothly and starts whipping her hair around again like a sword. It hits Riley in the mouth, and she practically chokes. "Something you'd know nothing about since you've never actually been on a movie set, have you?" Riley shakes her head slowly. "I figured as much. Must be tough living on theater wages too, from the look of that Marc Jacobs knockoff top."
HOLLYWOOD SECRET NUMBER FIVE: Riley may have her theater terms, but we movie actors have our terms too. A honeywagon is a discreet term for the crew's portable toilet truck. And dressing to camera means placing an object or a person in the best spot to be seen on camera. There are tons of other terms that would take all year for me to tell you, but some of my favorite are: Doris Day Parking (the best parking spot on the lot), Perrier meeting (a meeting that only lasts till a person's Perrier is gone), twin Ts (or twin peaks--a shot that is framed from the chest up), and shower curtain (a large, clear sheet used to soften lights). Take that, Riley!
"I'm tired, Dylan," Riley says stiffly as she stares down Sky. Sky doesn't even blink. "Doing eight shows a week and giving it your all takes a lot out of people who are serious about their commitments."
Liz is staring at me, her eyes drilling into mine. She's telepathically telling me to come back at this girl, but I can't. I'm not sure I'll ever feel less awkward around Riley, even after my (hopefully) positive theater reviews come in.
"Dylan can't yet," Sky tells her, and pulls Dylan toward her by the collar of his white shirt. "First he has some kissing to do."
Before Dylan can protest, and without her wax lips as a buffer, Sky plants one on my stunned costar. The kiss seems to go on forever and Riley stands by, looking flustered. I watch the kiss in awe. Finally Sky releases him. "K, your turn."
I look at Dylan's green eyes and feel a flutter in my stomach.
"I think you gave Dylan a long enough kiss for both of us," I say nervously.
"I agree. " Riley seconds. "Dylan, let's go."
I lock eyes with Sky. She can sense the same thing that I'm feeling now. Riley has a crush on Dylan. And letting Sky know that is Riley's worst nightmare. Sky holds on to a stunned Dylan and plays with his collar while he blushes. "Not until he kisses K! Don't you want to, Dylan? It's for charity."
"Don't bully him, Sky," I tell her.
Liz stares at Riley crossly. "Kates, you can't skip Dylan. He's a paying customer."
While everyone argues over us, Dylan and I make eye contact. He actually doesn't look uncomfortable--he's smiling at me a little, and I can feel my ears flush red. I look away.
Is Liz crazy? Kissing babies is one thing, but kissing Dylan is another. Austin would freak. Then again, kissing Chace Crawford wasn't much better. I'm already doomed. I look up again. Dylan looks amazing tonight. My breath catches in my throat.
Riley stares at my friends in horror. "Dylan, we're holding up the queue. Let's go."
"I, um," Dylan looks at me still with that lopsided, good-natured smirk. "I guess it's good practice for the show, right? And it's for charity."
"Right," I say, sounding professional. Riley glares.
Sky pushes me forward. "Kiss him," she demands.
The People photographer has caught on to the chaos and moves in for a close shot. Great. Just great.
"Hurry up, K, we have a line waiting!" Sky insists, her voice growing louder and more impatient. "It's just a kiss! Do you think Trevor cares who I kiss?" Her face goes blank. "I mean, do you think Trevor cares that I kiss someone for charity? No."
Sky is right. This is for charity. One kiss can't hurt, right? I grab my wax lips and stand on my tiptoes. All I can see are Dylan's eyes. I close my own and feel my wax lips ripped out of my hands.
