Star Power (21 page)

“Hey.” Kimmie slid next to Emily with a concerned look on her face. She delicately placed a piece of sushi onto her plate. “Um . . . are you okay? Must be kinda rough, huh?”

Emily squinted. She had no idea what Kimmie was talking about. “Huh?”

Kimmie lowered her voice. “I heard all about your little, uh, secret.”

Emily's mind quickly scrolled through a mental list of Things Kimmie Could Possibly Be Talking About, but she was stumped. And annoyed. The last thing she wanted was to be conversation-bulldozed by the Tawker when Davey walked in. What if he thought they were besties?

“Let's talk in private,” she said quietly.

Emily reminded herself she had to be über-polite since Kimmie's dad was producing her movie—and because Kimmie had a way of blabbing if you got on her bad side. She followed Kimmie to a shady knoll on the grass away from the crowd, but vowed to get back to the party as soon as possible.

Emily crossed her thin arms. “What's up, Kimmie?” Kimmie took a bite of her dragon roll. She pity-smiled and looked right at Emily, her brown eyes twinkling. “I think it's adorable that you have a massive crush on Davey and that he's the reason you came to L.A.”

Emily's eyed widened. Thoughts bounced around in her head as she wondered a) how Kimmie could know, b) what she wanted, and c) what she was going to do about it. Had Ruby put her up to this? Was Kimmie accusing Emily so that she'd confess? Had everyone on set come to this conclusion? Was it
that
obvious?

“My costar?” Emily laughed, as though the idea had never once occurred to her. She shook her head affectionately. “He's a great guy, but we're just friends.”

“Don't worry, I won't live-blog about it or anything,” Kimmie assured her.

Live blog?
Emily's right leg started twitching. That was so not the kind of press she wanted. “Kimmie. I'm flattered that you care, but you've got it all wrong.” She stared up the grass at the party, where kids were now dancing to a Taylor Swift song.

“Did Ruby put you up to this?” Emily asked suspiciously. Kimmie was nice, but easily swayed by the Rubybots.

“Look, I'm on Team Emily here.” Kimmie tied the bow on her dress into a floppy knot. “But it seems to me that this could be a
great
story. You love him, you moved to be near him, and now you're working together. It would make such a great feature. A girl doing whatever it takes to go after her dream guy.”

Emily exhaled with relief. Kimmie wasn't out for anything—she just wanted the scoop. Thank goodness she hadn't done anything naïve, like confess to the Tawker.

“Um, Kimmie? That's a really interesting story, but it's just not true.” She smiled sweetly, taking a step back toward the party. “Anyway, enjoy tonight!”

Kimmie raised one dark eyebrow at her. “Okay, Ems. But a word of advice.” She paused meaningfully. “Watch your back.”

mac

M
ac fluttered to the appetizer table in the foyer and took a bite of a mini quesadilla, holding it under her star-shaped napkin to be sure she didn't stain her favorite Vanessa Bruno dress (pewter, sleeveless, perfect). She surveyed her party suspiciously, making sure everything was A-list, but all Mac heard was the DJ's music and all she saw were people laughing and smiling. Her event was on the road to Hitsville, but there was no time to gloat. Already there was one huge problem: Becks
still
wasn't there.

Mac had already text-terrorized her friend, and she hoped the beach blowup was just a case of Becks being impulsive. Mac checked her front door for the tenth time in thirty seconds, wondering when Becks would breeze through. If she didn't arrive soon, she was going to miss the outdoor movie screening with highlight reels of Becks, Emily, and Coco and cameos by Clutch and Adrienne. (Much to her dismay, she'd had to
not
contact Cardammon out of respect for Co's privacy.)

“Hey,” someone called from behind her. Mac turned around, her eyes searching the crowd, ready to wail on Becks for being so late, but hug her for being there at all. Instead, she saw someone she had
not
been expecting.

Davey Woodward.

At her party.

Uninvited.

Mac almost dropped her quesadilla in shock. How in the world could Davey have known about this? The invite list was very selective, and his name was abso seriously not on it. He was the
last
person her brain wanted to see, even if her pounding heart suggested otherwise.

Davey was standing alone in the backyard looking around, his hands tucked into his Diesel jeans. He looked sweet and almost shy, which was especially cute for someone so famous. Around him, kids were trying to play it cool, even though he was a big deal, even for BAMS. The Rubybots smiled sweetly from the dance floor, and Hunter Crowe and the water polo guys tried to hide their curious glances. Everyone was checking him out, and clearly no one knew how to start a conversation with a movie star. It was almost funny to see her ordinarily fame-resistant peers made shy by a celebrity.

Mac looked at Davey and their eyes locked. For a second Mac wished they were all alone in her backyard under the stars, and that there wasn't a crowd of people around them. Her heart thumped and she had no idea how to snap back into control.
The only way forward is through,
she reminded herself of Mama Armstrong's life rule number twenty-three. Mac had to get through this.

She plastered a fake smile on her face and strolled down the grass. “Davey!” she squealed extra loudly, loud enough so that all her classmates could hear. “What are you doing here?”

“Mac?” he seemed surprised by her breeziness.

Mac herself was a little surprised at the acting skills she could summon in a pinch. She kept a perfectly fake smile on her face. She hugged him emphatically, holding the pose for an extra second or two, inhaling his Polo cologne. After she let go, Mac grabbed Davey by the pinky finger, and led him away from the crowd toward the willow tree that was further down the backyard.

When they were definitely out of earshot, Mac put her hands on her hips. “What are you doing here?” She couldn't believe she had to do this
again
. It was hard enough the first time. “I'm sorry you got the wrong idea, but I have already told you that
this
”—she pointed at herself and then at him—“can't happen.” Even though she said it forcefully, a tiny part of her hoped that Davey would see through her act.

Davey put his hands on her shoulders and smiled knowingly. His hands fit perfectly around her shoulders. She felt dizzy as he pulled her closer. She leaned in and smelled his Polo cologne, mingled with a faint whiff of sweat. It smelled . . .
wonderful
.

She tilted her head up and looked into his steely blue eyes. Her lips began to quiver, and her heart pounded with excitement and terror. . . .

The part of Mac that was watching out for Emily told her to jerk back, but the part of her that wanted Davey overpowered her. “You have to stay away,” Mac whispered, but even she didn't believe herself.

Mac's heartbeat quickened as Davey moved toward her. . . .

She could feel his breath near her cheek. . . .

She wasn't sure what to do next, except stand there. She felt paralyzed with excitement and butterflies.

And then Davey Woodward kissed her.

Mac knew that she should PULL AWAY RIGHT NOW, but her tingling nerves were making it impossible to move. She had no idea how you were supposed to kiss a regular person, let alone a colossal movie star, so she stayed there and let his lips touch hers for a nanosecond. It was just long enough to notice that they were warm and soft, and that, had they stayed like that a second longer, it might even have felt good.

But Mac's conscience forced herself to pull away. She looked at Davey nervously. He gazed at her, trying to study her reaction.

And then there was a gasp.

Mac whipped around. Emily. She was staring at Mac and Davey, looking like she was about to throw up. The plate of mini cupcakes in her hands started wobbling.

Mac's heart broke for her friend, knowing that Emily had discovered the truth, in the worst way imaginable. Mac's problem had just gone from Code Red to Code Dead. And the party was only getting started.

emily