Unlucky Break (16 page)

Andie paused. She wasn’t sure how Jess would take what she was going to say. ‘I think you should consider losing them … forever,’ she said.

‘What?’ exclaimed Jess. ‘You’re crazy. I love my boobs.’

‘Really?’ asked Andie. ‘You don’t mind that they look – well, fake?’

‘Everyone has fake boobs here,’ said Jess. ‘When you move into the neighbourhood you get a welcome pack from the Plastic Surgeons Association of California.’

‘Really?’ asked Andie, amazed.

‘No, dumbass,’ said Jess angrily. ‘It was a fucking joke.’

Andie sat back on the white sofa, trying not to get angry herself. ‘Who are you angry at, Jess? Me? The director? Or maybe yourself?’

Jess swung wildly on the chair as Andie sat and watched her. She seemed to be fighting an internal battle with herself. Then she stopped.

‘I thought it would work, you know? The boobs,’ she said in a small voice. ‘I thought people would stop seeing me as a kid star and I’d be seen as hot, sexy, get lots of lead roles. You know what, though? The only reason I got the audition for the war movie was because they needed an American star who wasn’t too expensive.’ She spat the last words. Andie frowned in sympathy. ‘I live like this,’ Jess continued, gesturing to the room around her, ‘and I can’t afford it. My parents took half my money.’

Andie nodded.

‘I feel so betrayed, you know? There were no plans made for me after the show finished. No-one talked about transitioning into films or anything.’

Andie nodded again, her eyes filling with tears at Jess’s obvious pain. In this at least, she understood how Jess felt. Just like Jess, no plans had been made for her after her mum died.

‘You know, I tried to kill myself last year,’ she said, looking Andie in the eye.

Andie gasped. ‘Jess.’

‘I took a whole bunch of tablets. Well, the only ones I had were for period pain, but I took them all. And then I rang Cece.’

Andie sat still.

‘Cece came and got me to a hospital, took care of everything, including the bills. Got me a therapist. She’s the best mother I never had. You’re so lucky.’

Andie gave a little smile. So
Cece helped Jess but wouldn’t bother with her own family
, she thought bitterly, remembering the bills that had piled up at home when her mum had got too sick to work.

‘Anyway,’ said Jess. ‘What would you do? About the boobs?’

Andie blew the air out of her mouth, trying to find the right words. ‘Listen Jess, if you say there are a million girls like you in LA, then they’re all your competition. If you want to be something special, which I know you are, be yourself. Being like everyone else isn’t getting you anywhere, is it?’

Jess shook her head sadly. ‘I look like a porn star and I’m still a virgin,’ she said.

‘And that’s okay,’ said Andie.

‘Is it?’ she looked up, and Andie thought she looked like a little kid.

‘Don’t do anything that you don’t feel great about doing, ever,’ she heard her mother’s words come out of her mouth and a wave of sadness washed over her.

Jess nodded, tears falling down her cheeks. ‘I never really wanted the boobs, you know. They were my mom’s idea.’

‘Wow,’ said Andie. She was never going complain about her mother again.

‘I think … ’ said Jess slowly, ‘I think I should get rid of them. They haven’t really helped my career. I just want to look my best, you know?’

Andie nodded. ‘I know, me too.’ She laughed a little. ‘Although I’m not doing a very good job with my makeover.’

‘Ain’t that the truth,’ Jess teased. Andie poked out her tongue.

They sat in thought.

‘Do you think James would be into me if I were more LA?’ asked Andie finally.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Jess.

‘If I looked more like I did the night I met James.’

Jess gave her a look. ‘What about all your talk of being yourself?’

‘I know, but I feel like I need a big change. I don’t even know who I am anymore,’ Andie said.

‘You don’t think he might think it’s weird if you turn up blonde with a tattoo?’

Andie sulked. ‘Well, not exactly like that but you know – glossier, more glamorous than now. Maybe I need a complete makeover. Teeth, tan, vajizzle.’

‘Vajazzle,’ corrected Jess.

‘Yeah. Fo’ shizzle,’ said Andie and Jess started to laugh.

‘Being LA takes a lot of work,’ said Jess seriously.

‘Like what?’

‘Teeth cleaning, manicures, pedicures, spray tans, facials, peels, body scrubs, oxygen therapy and waxing.’

‘Pfft. Sounds tough. I can do that.’

‘Every week?’ asked Jess, her eyebrows raised at Andie.

‘Sure.’

‘And workouts,’ added Jess. ‘Six days a week, two hours a day.’

‘Bullshit,’ said Andie.

‘Not bullshit. You gotta work to look like this.’

‘Really? Hmm … ’ said Andie, beginning to rethink her plan.

‘Did you know Demi Moore uses leeches to get rid of her toxins?’ asked Jess.

‘So
that’s
how she got rid of Ashton?’ asked Andie, laughing at her joke.

Jess frowned. ‘Ashton and Demi are very nice. Have you met them?’

Andie shook her head, apologetic. ‘Sorry. I guess I probably don’t want a look that’s quite so high-maintenance. But I just don’t think my look works here. You said yourself that I look like I’m homeless.’

Jess nodded. ‘True. But I don’t think that being another LA girl is gonna work for you either, babe.’

‘Why don’t you want to help me?’ Andie asked, frustrated.

‘I will help you. I just don’t think that your style is LA. I think you need to make sure you have your own flavour, that’s all.’ Jess took a pot of face cream from her bag and dabbed it delicately on her face.

Andie made a face and took the pot of cream from Jess. She dabbed some onto her own face and started rubbing it in. ‘Wow. This cream feels amazing,’ she said.

‘It’s made of nightingale poop,’ said Jess.

‘What?’ Andie nearly dropped the jar.

‘It’s from Japan,’ Jess shrugged. ‘It’s got antibacterial properties in it or something. The geishas use it.’

‘Ah, well, if the geishas use it, then who am I to argue,’ said Andie, rolling her eyes.

‘I know, right?’ said Jess seriously. ‘You really want me to help you?’

‘Yes,’ said Andie firmly. ‘Definitely.’

‘Okay. The first thing we need to do is fix those clothes. I’ll set up another appointment with the stylist. Those jeans that do nothing for your killer legs are the first to go.’

Andie looked down at her jeans, which hung off her saggily. She had lost a lot of weight since her Mum had died, and was only just starting to put it back on now she was eating properly again.

‘I don’t know,’ she started to say.

‘Don’t argue with me,’ said Jess putting up her hand. ‘I may not know much but I know a great body when I see one and you, my friend, have a bod that deserves more than hobo wear. Okay?’

Andie nodded meekly. Jess was kind of scary when she went into stylist mode. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Let’s do it.’

13

Andie remembered watching
Grease
when she was a kid. When Sandy arrived at the Rydell High Fair at the end of the film in her tight black satin leggings and permed hair, it was instantly sexy.
Sandy was totally a dime piece
, thought Andie as she struggled into a pair of artfully ripped jeans that the stylist had given her to try on.

The minute Andie had met the skeletal stylist at a shop in Rodeo Drive, she knew the woman thought she was hideous. She’d looked at Andie’s Doc Martens as though Andie had webbed feet and bells on the end of her toes.

‘Oh my god, I’m gonna circumcise myself in these pants,’ said Andie as she tried to do the jeans up.

The stylist looked at her blankly. ‘Those jeans are very cool,’ she stated in a lifeless voice. Andie knew that what she was really saying was that the jeans were too cool for someone like her.

Andie doubted this woman, whose rib bones she could have counted if she’d wanted to. She doubted everything the stylist had deemed to be cool so far, including the faux-fur hat and the feathered bubble skirt. When she’d told the stylist she wanted to look ‘LA, but with a bit of a difference’, she hadn’t exactly meant this.

The stylist took a phone call, and then hung up. ‘There’s a KK alert.’

‘A what?’ asked Andie, wondering if it was okay to lie on the floor of the fitting room in order to do up the pants.

‘A Kardashian Krisis,’ said the woman, like Andie was stupid. Andie raised her eyebrows. The stylist rolled her eyes. ‘Kim and Khloe are fighting over a pair of shoes. It could get ugly.’

‘Okay. Do you need to go then?’ Andie tried to sound concerned rather than desperate to get rid of the woman, who had zero interest in her.

‘I’d better. Sorry,’ said the woman, looking anything but. She practically ran out of the fitting room.

‘Quick, before they pull each other’s hair extensions out,’ muttered Andie under her breath. She yanked off the torturous jeans, pulled on her old faithful black jeans and walked out of the fitting room.

Who was she kidding? She thought that she could look Holly-wood? She couldn’t even do up the jeans.

‘Andie.’

Andie turned and was surprised to see Cece standing in the boutique. She was holding a white dress and looked equally surprised to see Andie.

‘Oh. Hey, Cece,’ said Andie to her aunt. She shuffled her feet awkwardly.

‘How are you?’ asked Cece.

‘Fine. How was Palm Springs?’ she asked pointedly, not quite able to keep the attitude from her voice.

‘Fine. Thank you,’ said Cece, politely. ‘And how is James?’

‘Fine.’

‘And you’re getting along okay?’ asked Cece.

‘Fine,’ said Andie putting her hands into her pockets.

‘So, fucked up, insecure, neurotic and emotional then?’ asked Cece.

‘Pardon?’ asked Andie, unsure if she had heard correctly.

Cece smiled. ‘It’s something a friend used to say to me, when I said
fine
to every question. I used to say
fine
a lot when I felt cornered. It’s a trait of the Powers women.’

Andie remembered how many times her mother had said it at the end, when the cancer had spread, when she couldn’t fight anymore.

We have to stop treatment,
said the doctor.

Fine,
said her mum.

But Mum, what will happen to me?

We’ll be fine, everything’s taken care of. It’s fine.

Andie looked at Cece. ‘I do say that a lot,’ she said. ‘So did Mum.’ Cece smiled a sad smile.

‘You after something special?’ asked Cece.

Andie sighed. Jess said Cece was the classiest woman she knew. Class had to be better than skank, she thought, her mind cast back to the jeans she had just tried on.

‘James is at an appointment, so I thought I should try and buy some new things while I have a chance. I don’t think my style is very LA,’ she said, pushing her hands deeper into her pockets. ‘Jess hooked me up with a stylist, who gave me everything a size too small and told me it would be thin-spirational.’

Cece rolled her eyes. ‘Bloody LA,’ she said. She wandered over to a table of tops and picked up a grey scoop-neck T-shirt, with cap sleeves and a tiny bow on the front.

‘This would look good on you,’ she said, and then picked up a black plain T-shirt with a lace back. She held it up. ‘Also good.’

Andie nodded and shrugged.

‘You don’t like shopping?’ asked Cece.

‘I like shopping but these clothes aren’t really my style,’ said Andie.

Cece thought for a moment. ‘This shop is very fashion-y. You like a more individual, vintage style, yes?’ she said, putting the clothes down.

‘Yeah, but Jess said only homeless people wear vintage,’ said Andie, laughing. ‘I don’t think anyone wears that stuff here. People will think I look stupid.’

‘Let me tell you something, Andie, and I mean this in the nicest possible way.
No-one
is thinking about what you look like or what you wear. We worry too much. You know when you get into your bathers and lie on the beach and worry about the size of your butt?’

Andie nodded passionately.

‘Trust me, no-one is noticing your butt. They’re too busy worrying about their own. Don’t spend your life worrying so much about what people think of you.’ Cece’s face was very serious.

Andie smiled. ‘Okay, I’ll try.’

Cece put her arm around Andie’s shoulder. ‘And, with all due respect to Jess, LA is the home of vintage clothing. You just have to know where to shop. Come on.’ She took Andie’s arm and they walked out onto the street. A few people recognised Cece but she walked quickly, not giving them time to stop.

Andie saw Rene standing outside, the Audi parked behind him.

‘Hey, Rene,’ she said with a little wave.

‘Hi, Andie,’ he beamed at her.

‘West Hollywood,’ Cece said to Rene. ‘Bijou Trash.’

‘What the hell is that?’ Andie asked.

‘The best vintage store in LA. There are others but they’re much more expensive. This one has some super cute pieces,’ said Cece as she got into the back of the car.

Andie jumped into the front seat next to Rene.

‘Andie, what are you doing?’ frowned Cece.