Secrets of My Hollywood Life
Page 8
Beth laughs. "Liz means, she goes with the flow," Beth says. "Everyone loves Liz because she chairs the dance committees. I don't have time for that stuff. I'm a mother's helper in Brentwood three days a week. I love kids, even the spoiled ones!"
"And I can't be bothered with school activities," Allison says, rolling her light brown eyes. "I'm in the Santa Rosita Dance Academy. I dance hip-hop and I also study ballet, so I have practice five days a week."
"But Liz ropes us into decorating for school dances," Beth laughs. "Watch out, Rachel. She'll be signing you up for the Spring Fling committee before you know it."
Dance committee, school paper -- those are things I could see myself doing -- if I had the time. So I lie, "I was part of the dance committee at my old school."
"Well, you're welcome to hang with us then." Beth smiles. "We wouldn't want to see you get recruited into the Brain-stormers Club or anything. Sometimes the math folk try to brainwash new students into thinking they're the hip quotient, instead of the other way around."
I laugh. "I'm glad you warned me." I look at the tables around us, since we're seated in the middle of the patio. "So do you usually get this prime of a location?"
"We're not that popular," Liz quips. "Usually Lori's gang snags the shady table. Where are they today?"
"Cheerleading tryouts at lunch," Allison says. "So the table was empty."
"Wait, did you say Lori?" I ask. "Is she a whiny tall blond cheerleader?"
"Yeah," Beth chuckles. "That's the one."
I shudder and quickly explain what happened this morning in French class. "She and Austin were so rude." I shake my head sadly.
"Austin? Austin Meyers?" Liz echoes. "He was rude to you?"
"Chad Michael Murray clone?" Allison questions. I nod, taking a salt-and-vinegar chip from the bag Allison holds out to me.
"He's, like, the nicest guy in school!" Beth sounds surprised too. "What did he do?"
"He laughed at me," I offer meekly. "Then he ..." I replay what happened in my mind, "handed me my book when I dropped it rushing out of class."
"Yeah, sounds really rude," Liz retorts. The three of them explain that Austin moved from New York to Los Angeles last year. He's the captain of the lacrosse team, on the honors list, coaches Little League baseball, and tutors elementary school kids from the inner city. He sounds too perfect, if you ask me.
"Are you sure he was laughing at you?" Beth adds. "Maybe it was just Lori. Her I could believe."
"I don't know what he sees in her," Allison remarks, checking her face in the compact she just pulled from her olive green messenger bag. She pulls out some Mark concealer and dabs it on her freckles.
"I heard they were fighting at Stacy Weinberger's party last weekend," Beth confides, leaning in close to the table so that no one around us can hear.
"He really picked up your book and handed it to you?" Allison repeats. "And tried to talk to you?" I nod again. She sighs. "I wish he'd talk to me."
I laugh.
"You didn't think he was cute?" Liz asks incredulously.
"I didn't really notice," I lie. The three of them groan. "Besides"-- I grin, looking directly at Liz -- "I'm not in the States for the guys. I'm here to learn."
"Aren't we all," Liz says dryly.
Nine: School Daze
Monday 3/8
NOTES TO SELF:
Reread Hutch script 1 last time. Could it really B that amazing???
Work on Civil War paper. Due in 2 wks!
Monday 3/15
NOTES TO SELF:
Leno pre-interview w/ Kat Simcock. Tues. 10:15. Ask Principal P 2 use her phone. Bring autographed FA shirt as bribe.
MUST WORK ON CW PAPER (DUE IN 1 WEEK!)
Call back Seth Meyers. He called 2 x.
Friday 3/19
NOTES TO SELF:
Call Seth Meyers. Again.
Ask Nadine 2 research British hot spots (Where does Wills hang?)
Buy Hello! and OK
CW PAPER DUE ON MONDAY!! (Beg Nadine 4 help.)
I'd like to kiss the person who invented the Sidekick. My poor little machine is working overtime trying to contain the pieces of my "double life," as Nadine calls it. I've written more "Notes to Self" the three weeks I've been at Clark Hall than I have in the year since I got the thing. But what choice do I have? I'm not used to running my life without an assistant's help and there isn't much Nadine can do for me when I'm sitting in a classroom. ( "This is what you always wanted," she chided when I whined about my Civil War paper. "You're a real girl now with homework and deadlines. Isn't it fun?")
HOLLYWOOD SECRET NUMBER TEN: Schoolwork is infinitely easier when you're being tutored on set. I'm not saying you don't have quizzes and term papers, but a tutor is a lot more understanding about deadlines. "Monique, I have my big kidnapping scene on Friday. Can I have till Monday to write an essay on To Kill a Mockingbird?" And just like that, I have an extension. That would never happen at Clark Hall. Even Sara's creative homework excuses on FA -- mother overdosed on sleeping pills, grandfather having an affair, family mansion in Majorca on fire -- would not fly here.
That's why I owe Mr. Klein an extra credit essay for turning in my Civil War paper a day late. It was either do the Hollywood Nation interview Laney set up or finish my paper on time. Laney is scarier than Mr. Klein any day.
I reread Mr. Klein's note:
Rachel, since your paper was tardy, I suggest you bring up your overall grade by completing another assignment. It s outlined below. - Mr. K
HISTORY EXTRA-CREDIT: In a 1,000-word essay, describe an unforgettable moment in American history.
Do you think Family Affair's highly anticipated season finale counts?
After turning my paper in late this week, you'd think I would suck up to Mr. Klein a bit. Sit up straight in class and smile or offer to clean the projector, like Sam would do. But noooo ... I'm spending fourth period hiding in the back row signing a stack of Kaitlin Burke glossies Laney wants me to finish for a charity auction this weekend. This is what happens when you overextend yourself, I guess. I haven't had a single free minute to get them done. I've almost finished when I hear Mr. Klein's deep voice boom, "Rachel, is there something more interesting in that folder than my discussion on the plight of the buffalo?" I'm so startled, my purple Sharpie shoots out of my hand and flies into the air.
"No, Mr. Klein," I murmur nervously. I try to hide the glossy I've just signed in my C-3P0 folder.
Mr. Klein isn't buying it. He thunders to the back of the classroom in two long-legged strides. He pulls his glasses from the ink-stained pocket of his white oxford and puts them on so that he can glare at me clearly.
I am so busted. I am SO busted.
Maybe I should make a run for it....
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Liz's face frozen in panic. I notice Austin is sitting behind her, watching me curiously. I look away as my cheeks burn. I've avoided talking to Austin since our awkward first meeting.
"What's this?" Mr. Klein asks, pulling on his salt-and-pepper goatee. I jump as he whips the glossy out from C-3PO. He waves a Kaitlin Burke autograph in the air. "Who's this Kaitlin ... uh ... Burke?" he reads slowly. The class giggles.
"She's, like, this total babe on Family Affair, Mr. Klein," Rob Murray from Austin's lacrosse team shouts.
"I love that show!" Fran Pluto gushes. "Did you see it Sunday night?" She asks a pale girl sitting next to her wearing black lip gloss. The girl shakes her head no. "Paige's sister is actually ALIVE." Suddenly the class is buzzing with talk of the show. Over their chatter, I distinctly hear Lori say, "Kaitlin's not that hot."
"Okay, settle down, everyone." Mr. Klein sighs. He turns back to me. I can feel the sweat beading on my forehead.
"Rachel, what are you doing with a Kaitlin Bubble --"
"Burke!" Rob yells.
"Thank you Rob," Mr. Klein says firmly. "What are you doing with a Kaitlin Burke autograph?" Everyone stares at me expectedly. Lori whispers something to her frien
d Jessie, who laughs.
"It's for my cousin," I explain quickly, looking at Liz for support. "The show just began airing in England, and er, she loves it. A friend of mine got this for her."
"Why were you scribbling on it then?" Mr. Klein asks.
Oh boy. Oh boy. Think, Kaitlin. Think! Liz looks at me pleadingly. "I, uh, it only had her signature on it so I decided to try to personalize it," I take a deep breath and continue. "My cousin's little, you know, and she is such a big fan so I couldn't let her down. It's hard enough for her to handle me living so far away. If I can make her feel just a little bit better by getting her this autograph and personalizing it so that it says 'Dear Claire' then I'm going to do it because ..."
"That will do, Rachel." Mr. Klein looks tired. "But class is no place for making presents for your cousin, however nice that might be. I'll hold on to this till next period." He waves the glossy.
"Her cousin, give me a break," I hear Lori snort. Jessie and a few of the other cheerleaders nearby snicker.
When the bell finally rings, I grovel to Mr. Klein to get my own autograph back (he gives it to me, thankfully), then duck into the hallway to look for Liz. I spot her shiny brown hair and walk towards the row of lockers she's standing by. That's when I realize she's chatting with Austin. After what Beth and Allison said the other day at lunch, I'm more embarrassed than ever about our first encounter. Maybe I misread him.
"Hey, Rachel," Liz calls me over. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." I peek at Austin out of the corner of my eye. He's a foot taller than Liz and me.
"Whenever I see you, you're causing a spectacle." Austin grins, showing his white teeth. "I think you like being the center of attention."
"I do not like being the center of attention," I huff. Okay, I was right. He is obnoxious. Liz raises an eyebrow at me, just like Mom does when she's disappointed with my behavior.
"I meant it as a compliment," Austin explains, oblivious to my tone. He leans a tanned arm on the nearest locker. His Polo shirt swings open to reveal a taut tee that says LAX-- JUST DO IT. "That autograph thing was pretty funny," he says as he waves to someone walking by. "You saved us. I was going to doze off if I had to hear Mr. Klein describe one more thing the Native Americans used buffalo skin for."
Liz laughs.
"Good luck, Austin!" someone passing by shouts out. Clark Hall's number-one-ranked lacrosse team is playing their biggest rival, Santa Clara, today.
I'm still surprised when groups of people walk past me without paying any attention. Being Rachel is like wearing an invisibility cloak. In my usual life, someone would be sure to turn around and stare, or run over and ask for an autograph. I'm half relieved and half miffed at being ignored.
"Well, that wasn't my intention," I say sourly. One minute he's insulting me, the next he's trying to butter me up. This guy is smooth. "Some of us are here to learn."
"Is that why you were busy doing something else yourself?" Austin asks wickedly.
I'm too flustered to answer.
"Don't get crazy," Austin laughs, seeing my angry expression. "I'm just joking with you. My brain is fried today. I was up late last night with one of the kids I tutor. He needed help with a science project."
I look at him skeptically. He really tutors? I thought only Sam does things like that.
"And then I had to proofread my Civil War paper. I did mine on the effect the Civil War had on the Native Americans," he adds.
"Huh, didn't think of that angle," Liz rejoins.
"Yeah, actually a lot of them fought in the war on both sides and ..." Austin trails off when he sees me looking at him curiously. He leans over and whispers in my ear, "Okay, don't tell anyone I'm a nerd." His hair smells like cut grass and shampoo. I can't help breathing it in deeply. I laugh nervously.
"Laughing at me, Rachel Rogers?" Austin teases. Liz looks at me with an amused and knowing expression on her perfect oval face.
"You remembered my name, huh?" I retort, composing myself.
"Not that you'd tell me yourself." Austin runs a hand through his spiky blond hair. "I had to ask around after you ran off that day."
"I wasn't going to stand there and be made fun of," I snap, remembering my anger again over our first ill-fated meeting. Liz's jaw drops.
"Make fun of you?" Austin looks confused. "What are you talking about?"
"I saw you. In class. With Lori," I stutter. "You were both laughing at me."
He kicks his Jansport backpack between his feet. "I was laughing at Lori," he says finally, looking up.
"At Lori?" I question, ignoring Liz's fingernails in my back.
"Yeah, she always feels threatened when Clark gets a new girl." He shakes his head. "So she starts in on them." He sighs. "It's getting old."
Liz looks at me smugly.
"But... you laughed every time I got an answer wrong!" I persist.
"It was funny!" Austin explains. "You were cute."
"Oh." I feel my cheeks burning. Now I feel stupid. But it's hard to imagine how Rachel could seem cute with her mousy brown hair and dowdy clothing. Quaint maybe. Clueless definitely. But cute? Before I can say anything my Sidekick begins to vibrate. I pull it out of my pocket and look at the message.
FUTUREPREZ: Urgent. Call me immediately!!!!!!!
"I have to go," I tell both of them.
"Um. What are you guys doing Friday night?" Austin blurts.
Liz looks at me. "Not sure yet, why?"
"Are you coming to Lori's party?" he asks, looking directly at me with his wide turquoise eyes. I look away. "I was going to mention it to Beth and Allison in bio."
"We hadn't heard about it yet," Liz comments coolly.
Even if it is at Lori's, I've been dying to go to one of these high school parties Liz always tells me about. I try to picture my Sidekick calendar. Shoot! Friday is the FA wrap party at Sky's. Well, I'm sure I could go to Lori's for a little while, then dash over to Sky's. Her parties never start on time anyway. "We'll be there," I say quickly.
"Great." Austin slides his backpack over one shoulder. "Four-twenty-nine Harvard Street." He saunters away down the hallway. "Don't forget," he calls back.
As soon as he's turned the corner, Liz slugs me in the arm.
"Ouch! What was that for?" I ask, rubbing my scratchy green polyester sweater. I have to remember to tell Nadine to buy me only cotton from now on.
"Lori Peters? I hate her parties," Liz groans.
I look at her pleadingly. "I haven't been to a party yet," I protest.
Liz rubs her temples. "Okay, I guess I could go for a short while," she concedes. "I have kickboxing early Saturday morning." I squeal. My Sidekick vibrates again. I look at the screen.
FUTUREPREZ: CALL ME NOW! I MEAN IT!
I wonder what's wrong. I pull my cell out of my black mesh bag and dial Nadine's number.
"Besides, it will be fun to watch you pretend you don't like Austin," Liz snorts.
"What are you talking about?" I demand before hitting Send.
"Austin likes you," Liz groans. "Or should I say, Rachel Rogers. Why, I have no idea." Now it's my turn to punch her. She laughs. "It's only a matter of time before he dumps Lori. They've been on the verge of a breakup for weeks." I keep looking straight ahead. I'm trained at dodging questions. Liz is not going to corner me on this one.
"I know you think he's hot," she points out. "He looks like Chad Michael Murray and you think he's hot."
"I never said that. Besides, Austin's too cocky for me."
"You like cocky guys," Liz counters. "Whenever you make me sit through The Empire Strikes Back you say how sarcastic and cute Han Solo is."
"That's different," I say, and hit Send on the phone. Na-dine answers on the first ring.
"If you say so," Liz responds in a singsong voice. She can't stop grinning.
"WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?" Nadine shrieks. I hear Laney and Mom yelling in the background.
"What's wrong?" I ask, clutching my chest. Liz looks at me worriedly.
"Oh my God. Oh my God," I say, trying to catch my breath.
"Rodney is going to rush you over there," Nadine instructs. "Your Mom gave him your favorite Chloe jeans and a Stella McCartney cami for you to wear. It's in the car."
"What? What is it?" Liz pumps my limp arm.
I put my hand over the phone and whisper. "It's Hutch Adams! He wants to meet with me about his movie." I'm so nervous my voice cracks. I never thought that would happen. Now what do I do if I get the movie? Leave school? Yes, a voice in my head replies. You've always wanted to work with him. No, another voice says. You've only been at school a few weeks! I block out both voices. "I'm on my way," I murmur calmly to Nadine. I flip my cell phone shut, then race to the quad, where Rodney is parked. Liz jogs over with me. As soon as we get to the grassy knoll I see the black sedan idling in the circular drive.
"Wish me luck," I say distractedly.
"You're changing, right?" Liz frowns, looking at my cords and Pumas. I nod. "Call me right after!" she yells. Unable to speak, I nod and open the car door.
"Hey, Rach." Rodney grins. For a second, I think I'm in the wrong car. Then I remember.
"Call me Kates, Rodney." I laugh nervously. "Otherwise I may forget my own name when I meet Hutch Adams!"
I change in the back of the car as Rodney cruises over to Wagman Brothers Studio, where Hutch has an office. I finish getting dressed, then slip on my silver Jimmy Choo strappy sandals. Aaah ... I feel better already!
I've never met Hutch Adams before. I've only seen him from afar at his recent AFI Life Achievement Award show (I begged Laney to snag me tickets). Maybe that's why I feel like throwing up right now. I exhale slowly, then step confidently out of the car as Rodney holds the door.
Hutch's office is in a low brick building with large windows. We step reverently into the narrow hallway lined with framed posters from Hutch's movies. There's High Stakes Part Deux (his one bomb), Amnesty Amy, and A Call to Action. Just looking at those posters and imagining my name on one in the future makes me hyperventilate.
I try to calm down by reminding myself that I don't want a movie role anyway. I want to stay at Clark Hall. Clark ... GEEZ! I just remembered that I have a math quiz tomorrow and I forgot my notebook in my locker!