Secrets of My Hollywood Life (10 page)

"Um, no," I answer, clearing my throat, "but he is a cute bloke."

"Bloke," Allison repeats, elbowing Beth so hard that she drops the black wire-rim glasses she's cleaning. "I love it!"

"You should sit with us for lunch," Beth suggests, picking up her tortoise-shell frames. She cleans the glasses with the edge of the simple cream-colored V-neck sweater she's wearing with wine-colored corduroy pants. I think Nadine bought me the same pair at the Limited. "Allison and I will grab a table on the patio and Liz can show you around the caf," she adds. "Lizzie, grab us some roast beef sandwiches and two Cokes." Liz nods.

As soon as Beth and Allison walk away, I spill the details about my morning to Liz. "Mrs. Pearson is like this freaky
FA
fan, and you didn't warn me that I need a hall pass to go to the bathroom," I whisper as Liz hands me a lunch tray and we get in line at the deli counter. "I messed up my French verbs in Mrs. Desmond's class, and she made me get up and introduce myself in French. In French! People laughed at me."

"Don't worry about it," Liz whispers back as the line moves forward. "Tuna salad, chicken, roast beef, or peanut butter and jelly?"

"You don't have cracked peppermill Boar's Head turkey?" I ask, surveying the deli meats. "Cal always stocked that for me."

"Sorry, your highness. We don't have a craft services guy here. Why don't I order you a chicken sandwich and you can grab me a sparkling water from the refrigerator."

I take my empty tray and walk over to the drinks. There's tons of soda, but no Fiji water. I reach for the lone Poland Spring sparkling water with lime, but someone else grabs it first.

"Sorry," a girl in a short red-and-white cheerleading uniform spits before walking away. I'm tempted to snatch it right out of her hand, but I resist.

"Got everything?" Liz comes over to me.

I reach inside my black mesh messenger bag for my wallet and then remember: I didn't bring one. Rodney or Nadine always grabs lunch for me, so I'm not used to carrying my own cash. "I forgot my wallet," I admit sheepishly.

Liz shakes her head. "I'll pay," she tells me. "Let's move. We only have forty-five minutes." We grab our trays and head out to the sun-soaked deck. Liz maneuvers past several tables, saying hi to people along the way.

"You know everybody, huh?" I comment as we set our trays down next to Beth and Allison. They've found us a shady table near the edge of the concrete patio.

"On the patio she does," Beth answers. "Not everyone sits outside."

I'm confused. "What do you mean? You have assigned seating?" The whole Clark cafeteria scene is foreign to me. On
FA,
Sam and Sara always lunch off-campus at Becca's Bistro.

"No," Allison clarifies before taking a bite of her roast beef sandwich. "But it's hard to come by a table out here unless you have some pull."

"Ah, you mean popular people." A light bulb goes on in my head.

"Usually the athletes hang out here," Liz explains. "Especially the lacrosse and football players. They get priority seating because Clark wins so many state championships ..."

"... which makes the alumni eager to keep giving Clark money ..." adds Allison.

"... and allows more of us to come here on full scholarships," Beth finishes, nodding towards Allison and herself.

"So who sits inside then?" I ask, thinking of how things work at FA's Summerville High, "blokes who want to study and club kids who hate the sun?"

"Pretty much," Liz agrees. "You forgot the Anime Club. We have one of those too."

Beth motions to a table behind us crowded with kids who are all wearing way too much cheap makeup and greasy hair products. "That's the drama students," she explains. "They're guaranteed a table because everyone loved their version of
Hairspray.
Then there's the class reps." She motions to a group of people bent over books in the corner. "They run the student government, belong to the debate team, write for the school newspaper ..."

"Sounds like they'll be running the country one day," I joke. "What about you guys?"

"We go with the flow," Liz replies.

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 friend 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."