Authors: Todd Strasser
Famous (14 page)
He gave me one last hug, then squeezed my arms and stared intently into my eyes. “You'll see. It's gonna be great.” He turned and strode away down the sidewalk like someone determined to go somewhere. Like someone who knew where he was going.
But to tell you the truth, I thought he'd be back in time to start tenth grade at Herrin with the rest of us.
I never even thought about celebrity stalkers until that Chapman kid shot John Lennon. What a terrible, senseless tragedy. I mean, I might not have agreed with Lennon's politics, but there's no denying the enormous contribution he made to music.
But the one that really got me was when that actress Rebecca Schaeffer from that show
My Sister Sam
was murdered. I used to watch it with my kids. Here's this cute young woman, twenty-two years old, who everyone agreed was on her way to really big things, and this nut gets her address from the Department of Motor Vehicles, then goes over to her house and shoots her.
My kids were devastated. They'd say, “Daddy, why did that man do that to her?” And what could I say? How do you explain to kids that there are some things in life that make no sense?
And then there was that tennis player, Monica Seles, one of the top players in the world, and during a tennis match this obsessed fan jumps on the courts and stabs her in the back with a nine-inch knife. Again, just the utter senselessness of it.
And the thing is, these attackers know they're going to be caught. Most of the time they don't even resist. They want the world to know they did it. As if it's the only way people will ever know they existed.
Some people say that if you want to become famous, that's a risk you have to face, but I disagree. People shouldn't have to fear for their lives on a daily basis just because they've accomplished something extraordinary. And that's especially true here in Los Angeles, where there are so many stars. The LAPD created the Threat Management Unit because we all know how important it is that stars feel safe. This town depends on the movie business, and if the stars can't feel comfortable here, we're in trouble.
But for me personally, it goes beyond that. These stars get so much publicity. So many peopleâespecially young peopleâfollow their lives. These days life is difficult and frightening enough for kids. They don't need to be exposed to random acts of murderous insanity.
ON THE MACBOOK SCREEN, AVY WILL GROW PENSIVE AGAIN, PLACING
his elbow on his thigh then making a fist and pressing his lips against it. You can almost feel the mood darkening inside him as he returns to the subject of his parents and says, “But you've said in other interviews that they actually tried to stop you from becoming an actor.”
Puzzled, you will pause the video.
Other interviews?
You're not aware of Avy having done any other interviews. Is it possible that he did and didn't tell you? But who would have interviewed him? And why?
Once again you will start the video. “They did,” Avy will reply to his own question. “They tried to stop me.
Maybe that's why I worked so hard to succeed. Maybe that's why I made it. I just had to prove them wrong.”
On the screen, Avy will smirk and shake his head, rise from the chair, and come toward the camera. The video will become blurry and wobbly and then go black. This is where the interview will end. You will stare at the MacBook screen, replaying Avy's last words in your head.
“Maybe that's why I worked so hard to succeed. Maybe that's why I made it. I just had to prove them wrong.”
It will make no sense. Avy wasn't a success. He never “made it.” Except for the few commercials he did here in New York before he went to LA, he never even came close.
And then it will hit you.
Avy made this up. The whole thing. This wasn't an interview he was preparing to give. This is the interview . . . he only dreamed of giving.
Your insides will wrench, and new tears will blur your vision. Feeling wretched, you will close the computer and let it rest on your lap. Poor Avy. Your parentsâat least, your motherâmay have given you a hard time about what you wanted to do too. But at least you had the feeling that they cared.
Tears will fall against the MacBook's white plastic cover as a rush of regret and self-recrimination floods over you. In the end, Avy had no one. He was all alone, giving interviews to himself because no one else cared. And where were you, Jamie Gordon? You could have
made a much bigger effort to stay in touch with him after he ran off to LA. Avy was your closest friend. Lots of girls had female best friends, but for you it was Avy as far back as you can remember. He was always such a good friend to you. Were you such a good friend to him?
No.
You were so busy thinking about yourself, yourself, yourself, and your career.
N,
Just that one short e-mail is all I get? I wish you'd write again. It's spring vacation. Are you really that busy?
Anyway, out here it just gets crazier and crazier. I was waiting in the guesthouse to find out what the plans for the day were when guess who knocked on the French doors? Willow!
She asked, did I have a moment?
“No, Willow, I'm really busy. Can you come back later?” (JOKE!)
We sat on the porch, and she smiled impishly and said, “Pretty wild about Rex coming back, huh? I really don't know what to do about him. He said all that stuff about him and Dominika Bartoli is just hype. I want to believe him, but I just don't know.”
I couldn't believe she, the super star, was confiding in me. It was definitely one of those “this can't be real” moments, and I considered pinching myself to see if I was dreaming. I mean, Willow Twine was asking
me
for relationship advice?
So, N, what could I say? I told her to take it slow. I mean, is that the ultimate piece of generic relationship advice or what? But Willow looked at me like I was Moses on the mountain.
“You're so right!” she said. “Like, what's the rush?”
Know what I think? Maybe someone like Willow is so used to getting everything she wants exactly when she wants it
that she just isn't used to the idea of waiting for anything.
But there you have it, N. I had a
with Willow Twine!
I only wish I could have awith you! XOXOXOXOXO
SEPTEMBER ARRIVED AND AVY DIDN'T. HE'D KEPT HIS WORD ABOUT
going back to LA and staying there. It was hard to imagine being at Herrin without him. We'd been together since kindergarten, and the thought of school without my best friend and confidant was a lonely prospect. The night before classes started, I called him.
“Hey, s'up, Wonder Girl?” he answered.
“Know what tomorrow is?” I asked.
“Uh . . . first day of the rest of our lives?”
“First day of school.”
The line went silent for a moment. Then Avy said
almost gleefully, “I
told
you I wasn't coming back. You didn't believe me, right?”
It was true. Although now it struck me that the prospect of school without Avy was so uninviting that maybe I hadn't
wanted
to believe him. “What do your parents say?”
“You'll love this. Know how they've been totally crazed about me being out here? Like, even threatening to hire a private detective to bring me home? Well, all of a sudden they've decided to become supportive. They want me to enroll in the Professional Children's Academy and find a better place to live. Can you believe it?”
“That's . . . great! I guess,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment that he really, truly wasn't coming back.
“We'll see,” Avy said with cautious optimism. “Could be the old reverse psychology trick. Like, they think if they go along with what I want I'll be more likely to get it out of my system and come home.”
“I don't know, Avy. Enrolling you in the Professional Children's Academy doesn't sound like reverse psychology. It sounds like maybe you've convinced them that you're serious.”
