Bachelor Number Five (The Bachelor Series, Volume 1) (4 page)

“I made some room for you in the kitchen, too,” said Lauren.  Amanda followed her back through the living room where Darren was now sitting on the couch and occupied with his phone.  The kitchen was off to one side, connected to the living room by a large doorway.  Lauren opened the refrigerator door.  “You can have the two bottom shelves,” she said with a nod.

“Ok,” said Amanda, taking it all in.

Lauren shut the door and opened a cabinet nearby.  “You can put your other food in here, when you get some.”

“Is there a supermarket nearby?”

“Yeah, there’s a Ralph’s on La Brea.”

“Where is that?”

“You are fresh off the boat, aren’t you?”

“What boat?”

“Give the girl a break,” said Darren.  “It’s not like
you’re
a native.”

“Look who’s talking,” Lauren replied.

“Hey, at least I come from the same state!”

“Don’t go pulling that card on me.  Phoenix is closer to LA than Oakland.”

“Physically, maybe, but spiritually it’s light years away.”

“Um, if you guys don’t mind, I’m just going to bring up the rest of my things,” said Amanda.

“Knock yourself out,” said Lauren.  “Do you need some help?”

“Sure,” Amanda shrugged.  “That would be great.”

“Let’s go, Spiderman.  The girl needs help.”

Darren rolled his eyes and got to his feet, tossing his phone onto the coffee table.  “Fine, I’ll put my spider strength to the test.”

“None of my things are all that heavy.”

“Good, ‘cause I don’t really have spider strength.  But don’t tell nobody.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

Amanda followed Darren out the front door with Lauren right behind.  “Do you live in the apartment, too?”  Amanda asked Darren when they got to the stairs.

“Me?!  Nah, I live next door in number six.”

“But you two are?...” Amanda didn’t know if she should come right out and ask.

“A couple?” said Lauren.

“Well, um…” Amanda stammered.  “Yeah.”

“Yes,” Lauren answered.  “We are a couple.  Any other questions?”

The three of them continued down the stairs and out toward the street.  “Just one, for now,” said Amanda.  “What’s with the Spiderman costume?”

“Spidey here poses with tourists up at the Chinese Theater.  You know, on Hollywood Boulevard?”

“Um, ok,” said Amanda.  “For fun?”

“No, man, not for fun,” said Darren.  “I let them take their picture with me.  If I’m lucky they give me some money.”

“Oh, so that’s kind of like your job?”

“Just a little extra, you know?”

“Does it pay well?”

“I’ve done better since I switched to Spiderman.  I used to be Lando Calrissien, but these tourists, they don’t want to give money to a black man.  This way they have no idea.  They think it’s Peter Parker under here!”

“Race had nothing to do with it,” said Lauren.  “Lando Calrissien was just a lame-ass costume.  Nobody even knew who you were supposed to be!”

“Lando Calrissien was an awesome costume!  Everyone knows Lando, come on!  I’m telling you, that wasn’t the problem.  The problem was, not everyone’s as open-minded as you are!”

Lauren shook her head.  “I still think Spiderman is just a better costume.”

“My car is over here.”  Amanda led them up the sidewalk.

“The problem now is there are already three other guys doing Spidey,” said Darren.  “Competition gets kind of fierce, if you know what I’m saying.  Especially if we all show up at the same time.  It’s not like posing with tourists is all I do, though.  I’m an actor.”

“Like everyone else around here,” said Lauren.

“You, too?” Amanda asked.

“Me?  No way.”

“She’s too good for it,” said Darren.

“Come on, that’s not fair.”

“Lauren’s an accountant.”

“Huh,” said Amanda.  She was expecting something more… glamorous.

“I know, it’s boring,” said Lauren.

“I’m sure it’s a great job.”

“I’ve got security anyway, which is more than Spiderman over here can say.”

“This is my car right here,” Amanda motioned.

“That’s all of your stuff?” Lauren looked through the window.

“That’s it.”   Amanda unlocked her car and opened the passenger door.  Despite their lighthearted bickering, she had a good feeling about these two.  They were all going to be friends, she was sure about it.  She’d travelled two thousand miles to an entirely new environment, but she knew already that she would not be alone.  It was a comforting realization.  Amanda handed a box to Darren.  From the back seat she pulled out a laundry basket full of clean clothes and handed that to Lauren.  In her own arms, Amanda piled a comforter, a pillow and a basket full of soaps, shampoos and other toiletries.  Walking back to the apartment, she could hardly see over the top of her load.

“Do you want me to take those soaps?” said Lauren.   “You can put them on top of this laundry.”

“That’s ok, I got it.”

They made their way back into the courtyard and started up the stairs with Amanda in the front.  She felt her way with her feet, unable to see the steps ahead of her.  When she was nearly to the top, Amanda heard a man’s voice shout “Look out!” but it was too late for her to react.  Instead she collided headlong into the person, her basket and pillow tumbling to the stairs.  Amanda was left clutching to her comforter as she watched her toiletries roll down one step after another.

“I’m really sorry,” said the man.  “I should have been paying better attention.”

Amanda looked up to find the owner of the voice standing right in front of her, holding his phone in one hand.  He was handsome.  Strikingly handsome, with deep blue eyes, boyish features and sandy brown hair carefully trimmed.  He wore a charcoal grey suit, white shirt, no tie.  When their eyes met, Amanda’s heart trembled just a little bit. 

“Nice going, Pete!” said Lauren.

“No, it was my fault,” said Amanda.  “I couldn’t see where I was going.”

Pete put his phone in his pocket and moved past before reaching down to pick up the basket and then begin retrieving her items one at a time.  When he’d scrambled for the last of her toiletries, he came back up and rested the basket on top of her comforter.

“You got it?” he asked.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I really am sorry about that.”  He gave Amanda a quick look up and down, as if trying to calculate who she was and what she was doing there, though he didn’t bother to ask.  Instead he retrieved his phone from his pocket and then skipped on down the steps and away.

“Who was that?” Amanda asked.

“That was Peter.  He hates it when I call him Pete.  That’s why I call him Pete,” said Lauren.  “Or Petey.  He hate’s that even more.”

“Does he live here?”

“Unfortunately he’s apartment number eight, right next door.”

“I take it you don’t like him much?”

“Not so much.”

Lauren picked up Amanda’s pillow and they continued on up and inside.  “So, what’s his problem?” Amanda pressed the issue.

“He’s a party boy,” said Darren.  “Big time clubber.”

 “I just don’t like those skanks he brings home,” said Lauren.

“What clubs does he go to?” Amanda asked.

“I don’t know.  The clubs where the skanks hang out.”

“Do you ever go to those places?”

“Do I look like a skanky ho to you?”

“No, I guess not,” said Amanda.

“You guess not?”  Lauren seemed defensive.  “Not that I don’t like to have a good time, but no, I don’t go to those places.  I prefer live music, not dressing like a slut to shake my booty to a bunch of electro-pop.”

“Ok, forget I asked,” said Amanda.  Apparently she’d struck a nerve.  They moved on into the apartment and dropped off their loads in Amanda’s room before heading back to the car for another round.  When all of her things were inside, Amanda began unpacking, putting some of her clothes in the dresser and hanging the rest on hangers in the closet.  She placed her most valued possession, her guitar, in one corner.  Her few boxes she stacked along the far wall before looking around the room to take stock.  This was home.  She would be comfortable here.  It was missing something, though.  Perhaps if there was something on the walls, maybe that would liven the place up a little.

Amanda opened the desk drawers and looked through them one after another.  They were mostly empty but in one she found some office supplies; paper clips, staple remover and a small pair of scissors.  She took out the scissors and then rummaged through her boxes until she found her magazine.  Amanda flipped through it until she found the picture of Bachelor Number Five standing bare-chested on the beach.  She cut out the photo and then took a tack from her bulletin board, stuck it in the top of the photo and pinned the photo onto the board.  It was a little bit of indulgence, but why not?  If she ever got homesick or lonely, maybe this would remind her of why she’d come so very far away.

Chapter Five

Hollywood Boulevard and the “Walk of Fame” were only ten minutes by foot from the apartment, according to Lauren.  It was still hard for Amanda to believe that she actually lived here, in Hollywood, California.  It felt instead as though she were living someone else’s life; someone more exciting and courageous than she was.  As she walked up her street, though, she was struck by how unglamorous it all seemed.  Not that there was anything wrong with it, per se.  It just wasn’t what she’d expected.  To be honest, she wasn’t sure
what
she’d expected, really.  Maybe just that she’d be more impressed.  These residential streets were nothing special.  The apartment buildings were mostly ordinary, at two to three stories high and of varying styles.  Some were boxy and plain, others with Spanish tile roofs.  The few single-family homes on the block weren’t so different from the house she’d shared with Piper, but with palm trees in the yards.  Palm trees.  She almost had to stop and stare.

When Amanda turned right and then left onto Highland Avenue it began to feel as though she really was in a big city after all, with four lanes of traffic and the first rows of commercial buildings she’d come across since leaving the apartment.  There was a sandwich shop advertising Philly cheesesteaks.  That looked promising.  She’d be spending some time in this place, she was fairly sure.  Next door was a tattoo parlor, then a medical marijuana dispensary and finally a psychic.  She certainly wasn’t in Quincy anymore.

Amanda came to Sunset Boulevard and waited for the light to change before crossing.  Her hometown had not one single stoplight.  This one was for an intersection with two busy lanes in each direction, just blocks from her home.  Everything about her new reality was going to take getting used to, yet at this point even the things most people would consider mundane provided Amanda with a thrill.  When the light turned green she moved across the street and past the blocky white buildings of a school.  Students mingled out front or practiced flipping their skateboards into the air. 
Hollywood High School
, read the sign.  Amanda tried to imagine what it must be like to go to a school like this, where the kids looked so mature and worldly.  Just the thought made her feel small and insecure.  She’d missed so much in her life, but that was all going to change.  It had already started.

When she reached Hollywood Boulevard, Amanda saw a souvenir shop to her left, full of t-shirts, key chains and refrigerator magnets.  Across the street was a massive four-story shopping mall.  At her feet was the “Walk of Fame.”  Each pink star in the sidewalk was roughly three-feet square, with a brass name and a small brass symbol.  Some portrayed a radio microphone, others a television or an old-fashioned movie camera.  She turned left toward the setting sun and read the names as she went.  Most of them she’d never heard of. 
Spade Cooley, Evelyn Rudie, Art Laboe, Elia Kazan
.  That last one sounded familiar anyway.  She nearly bumped into a small group of tourists speaking a language she didn’t understand.  French, perhaps?  They gathered around one of the stars to take photos.  Amanda peeked through their legs to read the name. 
Claudette Colbert
.  A bit of home in a land far away, perhaps.

As she kept walking, Amanda passed two men leaning against a wall in front of a small market.  They wore dirty, ragged clothing and had dirty, ragged beards.  Each one held a hand-lettered cardboard sign.  “Beer Fund,” read the first, with an arrow pointing to an upside-down baseball cap on the ground in front of him.  “Bad advice: Free,” read the other.  “Good advice: One Dollar.”

“Care for some advice there, sweetie?” the man said to Amanda.

“No thanks,” she picked up her pace.

“Bad advice is free!” he shouted after her as she hurried down the sidewalk.  In the mall across the boulevard, Amanda saw a broad walkway leading to an open courtyard.  High up at the top, two enormous plaster elephants sat on their haunches with their feet in the air, reminiscent she supposed of the movie spectacles of old.  She wondered how many restaurants might be located inside the mall.  One of them must need a reliable waitress, she thought.  Amanda needed a job, and quickly, if she hoped to keep up with her rent.  She’d start her job search in the morning.  For now it was all just so much to take in.  On her left was a building that looked like a temple of some sort, with large Greek columns facing the sidewalk.  In between each column hung a big red banner.  She read them in order.  “JIMMY.  KIMMEL.  LIVE.”  She stopped to stare.  They actually filmed it right here?  Piper would die of envy!  The thought that Amanda could walk back up here sometime and watch the show, live and in person, was quite a proposition, though at the moment hunger and exhaustion were setting in.  Amanda needed to eat something.  She thought back to the cheesesteak place.  There was no time like the present to give it a try.