by Jen Calonita
"I know," I lament. Hanging with these two really does seem like a great escape. "Maybe this week?"
Click. Click. Click.
I turn around and see Gary, Ava and Lauren's favorite paparazzo. That guy is everywhere! Ava turns me to face him. "Smile!" she says. The two of them hold up their loot from Barneys.
"What'd you get?" I say in between grins.
"A few sweaters, a cute necklace," Ava tells me. "It's rotten when you have to pay full price."
HOLLYWOOD SECRET NUMBER SEVEN: I've already told you that celebrities get a lot of their clothing for free, but when we shop retail we pay for things just like everyone else. Yes, many companies like the Gap send me clothes, but when I'm trying on jeans at the Grove, no employee comes over and says, "You can have those for free." Freebies come directly from corporate. Smaller shops like Becky in Bloom give discount cards to their preferred customers (i.e., the celebrity quotient), but others go one step further. If I bring an armload of clothes up to the counter at a boutique and the designer is there, they'll often tell me they're on the house. I'm usually so embarrassed that I insist on paying for a few items.
When Gary is done taking pictures, I turn to Ava and Lauren. I can hear the seconds tick away in my head. "Guys, I have to go."
They both groan. "Cancel!" Lauren moans.
"I'll call you!" I promise them. I look at my watch. I'm now half an hour late. Yikes. I push through the restaurant doors and scan the room for Liz. The hostess sees me and smiles. "Kaitlin Burke, right? I'll show you where your friends are sitting," she says.
Sometimes it really does help when strangers know who you are.
Liz and Mikayla are at a booth in the back of the restaurant. Liz sees me and waves. She's wearing one of her trademark head scarves over her long, dark hair and her olive skin looks great in a peach Chanel sweater that we got at Fred Segal right before she left for Hawaii. Mikayla is sitting next to her.
I can't deny Mikayla's pretty. She's got long, curly red hair, and porcelain-white skin that reminds me of a China doll. Her slightly round face is dotted with freckles. I can't see her whole outfit, but she looks very J.Crew from where I'm standing. Her green cable-knit sweater and pleated khaki skirt stand out in a sea of J. Brands and Stella McCartneys that usually dot the patrons at the Grove. I look at Mikayla and smile. "You must be Mikayla," I say as warmly as possible. "It's nice to meet you."
"That's me," she says, and shakes my hand. I notice her give me a complete once-over as I take my seat. "How were your meetings?"
I blush. "I'm really sorry I'm late." I quickly fill them in on my two meetings and Liz roars when I tell her about the song TJ had me sing. My bad mood vanishes. It feels good to see Liz, even if we do have company.
"Oh, Kates, that's priceless! You must be ready to kill your mom."
"I was, but she feels pretty guilty," I admit. "She even gave me her credit card to go shopping."
"Then she definitely feels guilty." Liz laughs.
I glance at Mikayla. I probably shouldn't say too much more about my mom or about work in front of her. I know Liz likes Mikayla, but I don't know this girl. I've learned the hard way that I need to be careful who I say things in front of. "I guess the card will come in handy," I say. "I have to get a new clutch for the Vanity Fair Oscar party."
Liz's jaw drops. "You're joking! How did you score an invitation?"
"Laney got me in," I say giddily. "Austin has a scrimmage out of town so I was hoping you'd be my plus-one. What do you say?"
Liz grimaces. "Oh, Kates, I can't. I'm going to be on the east coast. Daddy is taking me to look at a few backup schools. He doesn't want me to pin all my hopes on NYU. Mikayla offered to check them out with me since she'll be back at NYU by then."
"I know finding backup schools are important," I say gingerly, trying not to be too self-conscious, even though I know Mikayla's eyes are on me, "but isn't there plenty of time for that? Do you have to go to New York that weekend? Lizzie, we've wanted to go to the Vanity Fair party since we were twelve!"
"I know," Liz says regretfully, "but Dad already took the weekend off to go with me and Mikayla cleared her schedule. I can't cancel. I'll go with you next year." She gives me a small smile.
"Sure." I try not to look too upset. If there was one thing I thought Liz would say yes to, it was this party. Suddenly I feel like the girl I'm sitting across from is a stranger. We hardly talk anymore and she's planning trips and making summer plans without me. What's happened to us?
The silence is awkward. I decide to change the subject. "So tell me more about how you two met."
Mikayla's face lights up and she and Liz look at each other and giggle. "I was windsurfing and Liz walked over and said she'd never windsurfed before and she wanted to try it. The resort only had one board, so we had to take turns." Mikayla's green eyes are wide. "I didn't tell Liz I learned how to windsurf that morning so I was just as bad as she was."
Liz laughs. "The two of us kept falling off and bashing our knees. We were so bruised up after an hour that we gave up and went to the spa instead."
"After that, we were inseparable," Mikayla tells me, grabbing Liz's arm and giving her a bright smile.
"Liz tells me your family just moved here from New York," I mention.
"My dad took a new job this spring at the University of Southern California, which is great for him, but my brothers, sister, and I were upset." Mikayla shakes her head. "Los Angeles is nice and all, but why would anyone want to leave New York City? It's the best city in the world. No offense." She smiles. "Anyway, my dad felt bad and took us on a trip to Maui while our stuff was being moved from New York."
"I'm a native Los Angelean and I adore it," Liz tells her. "You will too. I promise. Los Angeles is amazing."
"Yeah," I pipe up. "Think of the weather. You'll always be tan, your lawn will always be green. You don't have to deal with snow. We have sunshine almost year-round. You can swim in January!"
"You also have mud slides, earthquakes, and wildfires," Mikayla points out. "Not to mention a major obsession with all things Hollywood and who has the most money or the best car. It's pathetic how people worship stars out here." Her cheeks redden when she looks at me, as though she just remembered who she's talking to.
Yep, that would include me, Mikayla. I don't call her on it, though.
"Anyway, I can't wait to get back to New York," she adds.
"Mikayla is a freshman at NYU," Liz tells me for the umpteenth time.
"You'll be one in two years," Mikayla says confidently. "Your SAT scores were really good and with the summer program, you'll be a shoo-in." She looks at me. "What about you, Kaitlin? Where do you want to go to college?"
I open my mouth, hoping something clever and smart will come out, when Liz answers for me. "Oh, Kates isn't sure she's going to college yet. She might get another show or do some films."
"Instead of college?" Mikayla looks surprised. "I thought your show got canceled."
"It wasn't canceled," I bristle. "We're choosing to go off the air."
"Either way, it sounds like a good time to consider college," Mikayla says. "My parents and I have been talking about college since the day I turned twelve. If you want some help looking at schools, I'd be happy to guide you the way I am Liz."
The offer is nice, but if anyone is going to help me in that area, it would be Nadine. "Thanks, but --"
"How did you do on your SATs?" Mikayla interrupts. "A good score is crucial."
I blush. "I haven't taken them yet. I'm taking them for the first time in March."
"You haven't taken them yet?" Mikayla looks like her head is going to pop off. "But how will you have time to take them three times before sending out your college applications?"
"I don't know," I admit. "I'm not sure what I'm doing yet. I may take classes part-time or put college on hold."
"That's crazy!" Mikayla tells me. "What if your career washes up? Don't you want something to fall back on?" Liz nudges her and Mikayla seems to snap out o
f her rant. She takes a deep breath. "Look, you seem like a smart girl. Take it from someone who knows, good SATs are important. I know you're a celebrity and all, and I'm sure plenty of schools would like you for that reason alone, but you shouldn't rely on their charity."
Ouch. My shoulders tighten. "My career is not going to wash up," I say stiffly, feeling the anger bubble up inside me. "I know you don't know anything about Hollywood, but the truth is, if I go to college full-time, then I'm at risk of my career washing up. I appreciate your help, but I know what I'm doing." Study for the SATs! Pick a movie! Pick a TV show! I'm so sick of everyone thinking they know what's best for me. I need time to make the right decision on my own and I need people to stop badgering me about it.
Liz and Mikayla just look at me. Our waitress hovers near the table with our drinks, but seems afraid to approach. I feel my cheeks burn. I can't believe I just snapped at Liz's friend like that. "I'm sorry." I look downward. "The future is sort of a sore subject with me at the moment."
"It's fine," Mikayla says, sounding anything but fine. "I just think it's good to have a backup plan." She turns to Liz. "I'm going to go to the bathroom."
"Geez, Kates, what's with you?" Liz asks when Mikayla's out of earshot.
"Me?" I'm shocked.
"She can come on a little strong, but she's really nice," Liz insists. "Mikayla's really helped me with the college thing. She's got her whole life mapped out. And she loves NYU even more than I do. She practically grew up on campus."
"And you grew up near Beverly Hills. That's way better," I joke, trying to lighten the mood.
"This is serious," Liz sounds agitated. "College is important to me. If you were around more, you'd know that."
"You're the one that's been MIA lately," I point out. "You never return my calls. We haven't seen each other since before Christmas."
"And that's my fault?" Liz asks, sounding angry. "You're the one who has had meeting after meeting and couldn't hang out till February 1st. I've been dying to talk to you, but you're unreachable! You have no idea what's going on in my life."
I feel like the room is closing in on me. "And you have no idea what's going on in mine," I complain. "I am under so much stress. Every time I do talk to you, you cut me off. You don't tell me anything anymore and you certainly don't listen."
"That's because I can't find you to talk to you!" Liz accuses. "Mikayla's been there for me. She knows what I'm going through. You and I both know that college is not your first priority. My next move is college. I want to get into NYU. You have no idea how stressful it is thinking about colleges and the pressure I'm under this year to do well. We have different priorities now. I can't party all the time like you and Lauren and Ava."
I feel like I've been punched in the stomach. "I don't party all the time," I say. "And you know those stories are bogus! Even if I was going to events more often, having different priorities never bothered you before." I choke, trying hard to fight back the tears. What exactly is going on here? How did this conversation turn sour so quickly? "What's happened to us?" I ask, afraid of the answer. "I feel like we're worlds apart."
"Maybe we are," Liz says quietly. She doesn't look at me. "Things don't feel the same. Maybe we're just . . . growing apart."
The words hang there and the thought knocks the wind out of me. I blink several times, willing the tears away. "I thought we could talk to each other about anything," I whisper.
"Hey," Mikayla says happily as she slides back into the booth and interrupts our fight. She sees our faces. "Is everything okay?"
"Fine," Liz and I say at the exact same time. The silence at our table, in the middle of the crowded restaurant, just sticks there like the restaurant's pea soup.
One of my tears falls on my wrist and I wipe my eyes quickly with my napkin. This is all wrong. How did I lose my job, my best friend, and my ability to choose all in a matter of a month? I have to get out of here. "I have to go," I say, not looking at Liz. "I forgot I have an interview with Self this afternoon about PYA and FA."
"Eff Ay?" Mikayla asks, looking confused.
"It's what everyone calls Family Affair," Liz explains stiffly.
"Oh, I don't watch network television." Mikayla shrugs. "Just the History Channel, Bill Maher, and some CNN."
"Anyway," I interrupt, "It was supposed to be at four thirty, but Laney just left me a message saying they moved it up and I have to be there in forty-five minutes."
"Kates, wait," Liz looks tentative. I can't look at her directly or I'll burst into tears. "Are you sure you have to go? Let me at least walk you out," she says. She has a weird look on her face.
"No thanks," I tell her and sling my Cinch bag over my shoulder. "I think I can take it from here. It was nice meeting you, Mikayla."
And then I turn to leave through the crowded restaurant, my eyes brimming with tears. I don't even give Mikayla a chance to say goodbye.
Saturday, January 31
NOTE TO SELF:
Call Laney. C if I can get an article in Self.
Study 4 SATs.
VF party -- Sunday, February 8
Final Jay Godfrey fitting -- Tues. @ 7
Gift suites: Sat. all day.
Date w/A: Sat. night B4 he leaves 4 scrimmage.
Sun. -- Tina coming @ noon, Paul styling @ 2, Shelly coming @ 2:30.
Find date 4 VF party.
Eight: All's Fair in Friends and Vanity Fair
Tonight is the night. I'm about to go to the most talked-about event of the year, which some might call an award in itself.
I'm not talking about the Oscars, silly. Who wants to sit for four-plus hours in a stuffy auditorium as part of a live audience? Can you say boooring? I'm talking about the Vanity Fair party at Morton's in West Hollywood. And this year I have my own invite, which means I can share the dish as it unfolds in front of me. Here we go ...
"We're minutes from talking to George Clooney!" Matty sounds hoarse. "Julia Roberts! Maybe Robert Redford. I can't breathe."
I fan his neck with my small clutch.
"Matty, you've got to calm down," I tell my brother as our limo inches closer to the Vanity Fair party. Yes, Matty is my date tonight. With Austin and Liz out of town, Matty seemed like the next best option. Needless to say he was really excited. Mom was a bit unsure, though. She and Laney seemed concerned about me bringing my brother as my date to the biggest party of the year. They went over the pluses and minuses of taking Matty for an hour, until finally Matty and I broke in and told them that we were going together whether they liked it or not. Geez. It's not like they had to worry about us going all Angelina Jolie and her brother on them. Eww.
It's been a week since my fight with Liz at the Cheesecake Factory and thankfully all the Oscar parties and preparations have kept my mind off the fact that my best friend and I aren't speaking. I want to call, but I'm still so hurt. How could she say I haven't been there for her? She hasn't been there for me either. My life is one big stress ball. I'm still not sleeping that well, and I haven't told anyone this yet, but I think I've developed some sort of hearing problem. Whenever I think about all I have on my plate -- Seth hasn't heard back from the Manolos director, Mom and Dad are grilling me about choosing a different project, the SATs are in a few weeks, I'm freaking out about my future without FA -- I feel like I'm going to hyperventilate and I hear a whooshing sound in my ears.
"I don't know if I'm ready for this," Matty tells me. Now he's hyperventilating. "Rodney, turn the car around! I can't go through with this!" The invite says black tie, so Matty is wearing a black Armani tux. His shirt, tie, and jacket look crisp, but his face is a mess. He's red and sweating and if he doesn't stop it soon, his perfectly gelled hair is going to frizz. "Kates, I can't," he tells me, breathing heavily. "David Beckham is here! And Clooney! And Angelina! Kates, Angelina's here. I can't make small talk with Angelina and Clooney. I'm not even sure where Darfur is."
I shake him. "Get it together," I practically shout. "You can do this." I've never seen M
atty this vulnerable. Usually he's Mr. Suave (or at least trying to be), but today, he's all worked up. Mom and Dad didn't help matters. They were so nervous for us, they didn't eat all day. Mom just followed us around the house as Tina styled our outfits and Paul and Shelley did our hair and my makeup. It's been twenty-four hours of primping -- Mom made me hit the sauna and get a facial yesterday, and then we went airbrush tanning together at our usual place with our girl, Eva.
I think the primping was worth it. This Jay Godfrey gown makes me feel like Cinderella.
HOLLYWOOD SECRET NUMBER EIGHT: It is no coincidence that the dress a star wears to an award show fits her like a glove. Almost every celebrity I know works with a stylist, but some go one step further -- they collaborate on their dresses with the designer of a gown. When you do that, you're almost guaranteed a one-of-a-kind creation that will wow the crowd and the tabloids. Many designers sent over dresses for me to wear for tonight, and some even designed things with me in mind, but Jay was the first designer to create the dress of my dreams. This is how it was done: First I visited Jay's office and discussed exactly what I envisioned wearing. I flipped through some of Jay's design books for ideas. A week later Jay presented me with sketches based on the silhouettes and colors I liked. He picked materials for the gown and after we agreed on them, Jay's team hand sewed the dress for me to try on. The minute I slipped it on, I knew it was the one.
The navy dress is tight through the hips and then flows with several light layers that fall into a short train that can be bustled for dancing. The dress is so pretty that Jay said I didn't need a necklace. I just borrowed a ten-carat diamond bangle and three-carat dangling sparklers from Harry Winston. (Security will be waiting for me at the end of the VF party to take back the baubles.) I'm pretty excited about my hair too. We ironed it flat and Paul cut a few wispy bangs. Shelly gave me smoky eyes, nude lips, and blush.
Mom loved how Matty and I looked so much that she took a ton of pictures as if we were off to the prom. Except if I was going to the prom, I'd be with Austin. I wish he could be here instead of seeing it all in pictures tomorrow.
