Secrets of My Hollywood Life: There’s No Place Like Home (13 page)

Liz laughs. “I’ll say! You look like hell. What happened to your hair?”

I pull a strand of my honey-colored locks. “It doesn’t normally look like this, does it? I’ve always loved the caramel highlights
Ken Paves gives me. He would die if he saw my hair like this.”

Liz chuckles. “You crack me up. I meant your hair looks like you haven’t combed it in a week. As if you would ever have the
money to get Ken Paves highlights—no offense.” Liz examines a strand of my hair. “I wish you’d let me pay for it. Or should
I say Daddy.” She raises her eyebrows mischievously. “Ever since he got Alexis Holden as a client, it’s like he’s been printing
his own money!” Liz flings herself backward on my bed, her head touching mine. “I am just loving this windfall he’s on, Kaitlin.
It’s only been two months, but it’s going to change our lives, I just know it. Daddy lets me buy whatever I want and is getting
me all these cool clothes, like this dress.”

“Marchesa.” I nod knowingly and finger the fabric. “Gorgeous.”

“Thanks,” Liz says happily. “I’m thinking of wearing it to the premiere Friday night. Think you’ll be up for going?” She props
herself up on her elbows. “We can bling out your cast so that you’ll get tons of sympathy. I can even buy you a new dress!”
She starts to get excited. “You can’t make me go alone. Cara Simeone’s going to be there, and I can’t stand her.” I’m about
to ask why, when Liz adds: “I know—we have to kiss her butt if we want to get in her inner circle, but you kiss up better
than I do.” She frowns and I notice her lips.

Liz’s lips! Her lips have never been that plump. She definitely altered them. Something else is different too. OH MY GOD!
“When did you get a boob job?”

Liz sticks her chest out proudly. “Happy seventeenth birthday to me! Don’t they look great now that the swelling has gone
down? I wish we could have scored you a freebie so you could have gotten a new pair too.”

EWW.

I’m not sure what to comment on first—the fact that I wanted a boob job or how I can’t afford Ken Paves now. A stray tear
escapes my right eye before I can stop myself. “I’m sorry.” I wipe it away quickly with my flannel PJ sleeve.

“Get up,” Liz insists. “Take a shower. Get some clothes on and for goodness’ sake, run a comb through your hair. We’re getting
you out of here. You need air.”

Twenty minutes later, I’m wearing what I found in the bedroom closet: a decent Gap boatneck navy-and-white-striped shirt and
Gap jeans with one ballet flat. At least alter-Kaitlin has a decent wardrobe. She does well without name designers. And Liz
was right. Getting some air did make me feel slightly better. When she pulled out of my driveway and sped through the neighborhood
in her brand-new Beamer (this week’s big gift from her dad) and jumped on the highway, I felt a small sense of relief. Maybe
she can drive me out of this world and into mine. I was even more hopeful when she pulled up to A Slice of Heaven.

Antonio is still here, and the place looks the same. We’re sitting at a booth with a spaghetti splat on the red-and-white-checkered
vinyl tablecloth, and yet…everything is different. I’m eating Liz’s and my favorite pie—broccoli, extra cheese, and peppers—and
sipping a Sprite but I don’t feel better. Maybe it’s because Liz is talking about our social life, which sounds sort of pathetic.

“Have you listened to a word I just said?” Liz stops chewing and talking and looks at me sternly. “You better get your attention
span back or you’ll have to kiss that internship good-bye. There are three girls in line behind you just dying for that job.
Dad totally stuck his neck out for you.”

I stop sipping my Sprite and look up. “What job?”

Liz looks at me like I’ve just suggested she give back her new black American Express. “Your internship! At
Family Affair
! You know…”

I don’t know, but suddenly I feel hopeful.

Liz is still looking at me strangely. “The one my dad got you last month because you always wanted a job in Hollywood.” She
giggles. “At least we told him that so that we could get you close to Trevor Wainright.”

I HAVE a job in Hollywood!

“This internship you’ve got going on is going to be the best score for us,” Liz is saying as she pours more Sprite into our
glasses. “Forget cozying up to Trevor at the moment. We are
thisclose
to getting our own reality show or something, I can feel it! Then everyone in town is going to want to be friends with us.”

I stare down at my pizza. “Celebrities are usually nothing like they are on TV, ” I say quietly. “Sometimes being friends
with people outside the business is much more rewarding.” I look at her. “At least, you and I have always felt that way.”

“I guess.” Liz blots the excess oil on her pizza with a napkin. “We did, but that was before my dad hit the big-time. Now
we don’t have to pretend we don’t want to be part of that world, Kates! We’re in it.” She smiles brightly. “I hate that you’ve
been out of commission this last week, because so much is going on.” She leans in close and I can smell her honeysuckle perfume.
“People have been calling
me
!” she says gleefully. “On their own! Kates, we’re so in. I mean, yeah, some of them seem a little shallow and self-centered
and are not our type, but who cares? Once we’re in, we don’t need to act like we care about every little thing they say.”
She laughs so loud we barely hear her phone ring. “HEY, babe!” Liz mouths someone’s name to me excitedly when she answers.
“What’s up? Aww… yes, I understand. That so is important!” Liz nods at me knowingly. “How much?” Liz bites her nails. “Um,
sure. Of course Kaitlin and I will come to your charity event. My dad can spring for the thousand-dollar tickets. It’s totally
worth the… sure, okay. See you then!” She grins at me. “That was Cora. She had to go, but she wants us at her Save the Dolphins
Dinner.”

“For a price,” I correct. I’ve seen this sort of thing way too many times to count on my nail-bitten fingers. (I bite my nails
now! Like Nadine! EWW!)

“It’s a good cause,” Liz insists.

Not only am I not an actress, I’m a celebrity hanger-on. From what I’ve pieced together from our conversations, Liz’s dad’s
business has just taken off, when in the real world, it took off years ago when he took me on as a client. Here, Liz’s exposure
to Tinseltown has just started, and she doesn’t seem to be handling it so well. It doesn’t sound like alter-Kaitlin is adjusting
to the Hollywood lifestyle that well either.

“Did you have to bring that bag?” Liz groans. “It’s so tacky.”

I look at the glittery red bag I found in the back of alter-Kaitlin’s closet. It’s roomy enough to carry books from school,
but still small enough that I can wear it on my shoulder to go out to eat. You’d think the glitter would make it look too
fancy, but somehow it doesn’t. The bag just looks fun, and I could use some fun right about now. It reminds me of Dorothy’s
ruby red slippers.
The Wizard of Oz
was part of my TV marathon the other night, and I forgot how much I love it. I actually like this bag better than the expensive
butter yellow leather one I’ve been toting around, even if this one isn’t made very well. I’ve never heard of the designer,
Riley Pierce. Probably Target. “I like it.”

“For dress-up maybe, or for Goodwill, but you cannot bring that bag in public.” Liz grimaces. “Imagine getting photographed
on the red carpet with that bag. Ugh!”

I hold the bag up and stare at it from all angles. It sparkles back at me happily. This is a happy bag, and my goal is to
be happy. It’s a keeper. “I think it’s cool.”

Liz shakes her head and her curls bounce around, falling out of the ponytail that was barely containing them. “I’ll buy you
a better bag.” Her phone rings again and she snaps the phone open. “Hey, you. Yes.” Liz mouths another name, but I can’t tell
what it is between all her chewing. “We’d love to come to your club opening! Sure. What time? I think I have a dinner, but
we can come by after. Yes, I get that you have a head count. We won’t let you down.” She switches calls.

“Mia, sweetums! Hey. Yeah, of course I got the invite. I’m so sorry I forgot to RSVP. Yep, I’ll be there. Plus one, I’m sure.
Yes, Kaitlin is on the mend!” She looks at me excitedly. “Okay, doll. We’ll see you then.” Liz hangs up and sighs. “Three
events on one night. How are we going to pull that off ?”

“We can’t,” I say lightly and take another bite of my pizza. “We have to turn one down.”

Liz starts texting. “No way! They’ll be mad at us. At least Mia remembers you too. Seriously, Kates, you have to be more careful.
We can’t disappear from the nightlife for more than a night or two. If we do, we’ll just be replaced, and I am not leaving
when we just got here.” Liz seems sort of scared of the thought. Then her phone buzzes in her hand and she reads the text.
“You were the one who said to say yes to every event we get invited to and then just not show up at the lame ones.” She giggles.
“You’re so evil.”

I am? No I’m not!

She looks up and I guess I must be making a face, because then she says, “Why do you look so worried?”

“It’s just,” I say slowly, “I didn’t know you liked to go out so much.”

Liz shrugs. “We both do! But I go out every night. Daddy gets mad, but it’s not like I can turn down tickets to a huge movie
premiere, you know? What if our new friends stop inviting us?” Liz’s phone starts to buzz again. “Ooh! It’s Jade.”

I shudder. Jade, one name only, is on this totally bizarre reality show on E! She’s as C-list as they come. Liz is getting
excited about her call?

“This will just take a sec,” Liz apologizes, putting her hand over the phone. “Hey, hon! Yeah. That was awesome. Friday? Um…
yes!”

I stare glumly at the other tables. A few people around my age are staring at me and whispering. They must go to Clark Hall
too. This supposed driver’s ed crash I caused in alter-Kaitlin-verse was apparently a doozy. No one looked too happy to see
me when I walked in here.

“You’re hilarious! You so deserve that new pilot. You’re going to get it. I just know it.”

What’s happened to my best friend? Sure, Lizzie’s always enjoyed having money, but she’s never gotten wrapped up in fame the
way she seems to be now. She’s sort of morphed into a version of…

Liz’s phone rings again. “LC! Hey, babe. Yes, I know it’s Cobb, not Conrad.” She rolls her eyes at me. “How’s Ava? Tell her
that tantrum she threw at the door at Shelter the other night was hilarious. Friday?” Now Liz looks nervous. “I just made
plans, but I’m sure I can stop by. Uh-huh. Yeah…”

Liz is friends with LAVA? (That’s the nickname the press gave Lauren and Ava Hayden when Sky and I were fighting with them.
We’re SKAT.) Liz is so above them! At least
my
Liz was.

“Yeah, Kates is with me.” She holds out the phone excitedly. “Ava wants to talk to you. She says you haven’t taken her calls.”

Wait. WHAT? I’m friends with Ava again? And Lauren too?

EWW.

WHY?

I shake my head fiercely. “I think I overexerted myself. Tell her I’ll call her later.”

“She’s using the exhausted-from-the-car-crash excuse again,” Liz jokes and winks at me. “I’ll tell her. Bye!” Liz snaps off
her phone. “She’s my least favorite, but what can you do? We need her.” She gives the phone a nasty look when it starts to
vibrate almost immediately after she puts it down. This time she actually ignores it. “Let’s talk about you. Ready for school
on Wednesday?”

“No,” I say without skipping a beat. I pull at a frayed edge of our tablecloth. It looks like it was singed.

“You need a makeover,” Liz suggests. “Something so that no one knows what you look like when you get there. It will keep Lori
and Austin’s crew from laying into you about driver’s ed. Austin just got out of the hospital today, you know.” I open my
mouth to say something, but Liz beats me to it. “Did you send your favorite crush a card?” She winks. “Probably not, considering
you put him there.” She laughs. “But seriously. Makeover is in order. We should call Ken and have him squeeze you in. My treat.”
She starts to dial.

HOLLYWOOD SECRET NUMBER TEN: In my real world, stars make physical transformations all the time and pay for it themselves.
When a star makes a physical transformation for a movie role, it’s on the studio’s dime. Need to drop twenty pounds to play
a model? Learn a Russian accent to play a spy? Dye your hair for a superhero character? A movie studio or a producer pays
every penny of it. There is only one condition to this rule: the change you’re making must be for a specific project or part
that you’re playing. If you want lipo so you can get the part of your dreams, the check is coming out of your own checkbook.

“I don’t want to go to Ken.” I push Liz off. “I just want to fly below the radar for a while till I can get out of here.”

“What do you mean, ‘get out of here’?” Liz gives me an odd look. “LC just told me about a party down on Laurel Canyon. We
have to get back out there. I need my wingman. Besides, I heard Lennon might be there.” She sighs. “Imagine if he remembers
my name? I will just die.” As if on cue, her phone starts to vibrate again.

She looks at the screen, but doesn’t answer yet. “It’s Violet! Holly! NYC.” She holds the phone up to me as if for proof.
Her face drops. “I want to talk to you, but…” She hesitates. “No, I’ll let the call go to voicemail. I can do that, right?
What if they don’t call again?” She looks so crushed I almost feel bad for Liz.

“Take it,” I insist and take another slice of pizza. This Kaitlin doesn’t have to fit into a size four for her
Small Fries
wardrobe. I take a bite and the gooey cheese burns the back of my throat. I mumble through the pain. “Don’t keep Violet and
Holly waiting.”

Liz grins. “Okay. I won’t.” And then she goes back to booking our week and weekend plans in the celebrity-hanger-on universe.