FanGirl (21 page)

“I’m not moving!”

“What about school?”

I sigh. “Nothing has changed, Mom. I’m going. Just like you’ve always wanted.”

“What do you mean what I wanted?” She says. Her tone is sharp and the look in her eye makes me move over a little. She pulls in the driveway and parks the car. Before I can escape, she reaches for my arm. “This isn’t about me. It’s about your future.”

“No one seems to care what I want around here!” I’m yelling even though we’re in the tiny car. “I never wanted to go to college. Or be an actress. Or date Andrew Xavier. I wanted to lie by the pool where no one noticed me and waste the summer away. But I did it anyway. For you and Iris and dad and Gabe. I always did what Reid wanted and look where it got me. Maybe I need to do what I want to do for once.”

“Well, what is that? What do you want to do? Enlighten me.”

“I have no freaking idea.”

“Look, I know Reid hurt you last year. I don’t know the details, but I know you and I saw the pain on your face. Don’t let whatever it was he did to you change the way you make decisions. I think Andrew is wonderful — sweeter than anyone could imagine, but is he the kind of boy you want? Don’t run away from life because of some teenage jerk.”

“Mom, I am not moving to California. And this isn’t about Reid,” I tell her. “I’m going to school in a month. We just bought new bedding. My roommate’s name is Rachel, she’s from Winder, Georgia, and lives on a dairy farm.”

“I hope you’re telling the truth,” she says. I refuse to answer again. You can only be called a liar so many times. “Keep your face out of the tabloids. And no more kissing in public.” She lets go of my arm and opens the door. Standing, she says, “It’s tacky. Your grandmother buys those magazines.” With that she closes the car door and walks away.

g

We’re in the lounge
between shots when Derek finds us. “I’ve been looking all over for you guys,” he says, pulling up a chair. “Can we talk?”

“Sure,” Andrew says. He puts down a fitness magazine. Derek’s black, short-sleeved shirt has embroidered dragons across the shoulders and a white T-shirt peeks out at the collar. His designer jeans are over-worn in all the right places. Everything about him reeks of trying too hard.

“This will only take a minute. I know you have to go back to work,” he says. “We’ve been happy about the attention you two have been getting. The magazines and website covers. E! News mentioned you both the other night.”

“And TMZ,” I say. They both stare at me. “They had a small clip about us leaving the set the other day. ZWankHard wrote a whole article about how Andrew walked ahead of me and then didn’t hold the door open for me and it meant he doesn’t care or have respect for me.”

“What? That’s what my bodyguard told me to do! I’m supposed to take the brunt of the paparazzi heat off of you by going first. Great,” he says, running his hand through his hair, “now I look like a douche.”

Regardless of Andrew’s perceived doucheyness, this information appears to make Derek’s day. He rubs his hands together and smiles even bigger. “Everything we have about you two so far, though, is work-related. Even the kiss has fueled some speculation since you were on set.”

“Maybe people can tell it’s fake. I mean, it is not a real relationship. Maybe they can feel that?” Ever since we kissed in the truck, I’ve been worried ZWankHard picked up on our lack of chemistry.

“You’re actors, Ruby, they’ll believe anything you give them, but we need something a bit more personal. Like holding hands while walking to the car, or a quick hug and kiss out somewhere,” he stops, interrupted by a knock on the door. Derek opens it and Iris is on the other side.

“Iris! Just the girl I wanted to see!”

Andrew and I exchange a wary look. Since when did Derek want to talk to Iris, or even know who she is?

“Um,” Iris says, walking into the room. “Okay.”

I shrug and Andrew looks down at his shoes. Derek, as always, smiles. “We’re talking about this terrible website trying to discredit the validity of Andrew and Ruby’s relationship. Not to mention all the slanderous comments about the movie in general.”

“I don’t like it either, but Nick and the geeks can’t figure out who’s behind it. From what I gather, they’re locked up tight — no trail at all.”

“Yes,” he says with a frown. “They told me this also. I think that you may be the perfect person to fix this for us.”

“Fix what?” she asks. “Nick told me specifically to stay away from that account. I’m following orders.”

“Oh no, nothing like that. I’m thinking more along the lines of continuing to use your website to push Andrew and Ruby.”

This gets my attention. “Z.net already has a celebrity section. Iris has been updating it with anything about us or the rest of the cast as it hits the media.”

“I’ve seen. I’ve also noticed you have quite the advertising base. Exclusives on Andrew and Ruby could increase your revenue.”

“What do you mean by ‘exclusives?’” she asks.

“I mean, we hire a photographer ourselves, take photos of them out and about while you write the copy — pushing the agenda in the right direction. Supporting these two.”

“No,” I say. “No, I draw the line here. I don’t want Z.net to be used to promote my relationship.” I swallowed hard on the last word.

“It’s not a bad idea. We can fight back against the wank and generate some revenue by being the first ones to post the story.”

“Iris, you know how I feel about this.”

“Well, you know how I feel about wasted opportunities!” She jumps out of her seat and I do the same.

“Make your own opportunities! Stop using mine!”

“Girls, I’m sure there’s a middle gro—”

“Did you tell me to make my own? I made this for you, Ruby! I made that video and forced you into that role. I convinced you to audition! That was all me! If it had been left to you, your summer would be spent at the pool, babysitting 5-year-olds, wallowing over Reid and trying to work up the courage to ask the lifeguard for a Band-Aid!” Iris shakes her finger at me. Her father’s accent slips through in anger.

“So what? I like babysitting! And that lifeguard is hot! Have you seen his back? It’s like the hottest back ever! And I never asked for you to do any of that for me!” I’m yelling, beyond yelling even, on the verge of completely losing it. I search her eyes for a sign of my best friend. She stares back with her hands on her hips. In that moment, I hope, I pray, Iris will tell me she won’t do it. That she will not put photos of my “personal life” on the website. Not because of any morality or ethical issue, but because I asked her not to do it. Iris and Z.net may be the only things left from my prior life. I can’t lose them both.

I wait one second more. She says nothing, so instead I break. “You know what? I don’t care, Iris. Do what you want. It’s your website. I just tagged along — as usual. I’m done.” And with that I push past everyone and walk out the door.

g

The rest of the
day goes by in a blur. Luckily, all I’m required to do is repeat choreographed moves for a big fight scene.
[1]
It’s 2 a.m. by the time we’re released and Iris left hours ago. I’m halfway to the parking lot before I realize I have no ride home. Not that I would go with her anyway. I could ask Andrew, who just walked out the door with his bodyguard/trainer, but I can’t handle a potential paparazzi moment tonight. I can see the ever-present fan/photographer group waiting by the entrance of the warehouse parking lot from here. The later they stay, the more desperate they become.

“You look confused,” Gabe says. He’s carrying a box of stuff and he stops next to me, shifting the weight to his hip.

“Iris left me. I need a ride home.”

He looks at the exit. “You don’t have another one?”

“Nope. Thanks for pointing it out though.”

His eyes narrow and he says, “I thought — never mind.”

“What?”

“If you can wait five minutes, I’ll give you a ride.”

His tone is a little hostile. What’s with everyone today? But I have no choice. “What’s another five minutes,” I say. On cue a massive yawn overtakes me and I clamp my hand over my mouth. “Sorry.”

“Come on, I’ll hurry.” I follow Gabe to his “office,” which is a tiny room filled with his and Nick and Arthur’s things. Gabe gathers papers, a hat, three empty bottles of water and a coat that he shrugs on his arms, though it’s 85 degrees outside, even this late at night. He spends a second patting his pockets, searching for keys, phone and, apparently, a black drawing pen because when he finds it, he pulls it out and smiles. “I looked all over for this today!” Even though it’s 2:27 a.m. and this has been one of the worst days ever, I can’t help but think he’s cute.

“Ready?” He picks up the box. “Can you get the lights?”

I flip them off and follow him down the hall. “Filming went okay today, don’t you think?”

He laughs. “Yeah, from what I saw. You were on fire.”

I give him a side-eye. “Is that a joke? Because today was kind of rough personally. It feels like a blur.”

We reach his car and he tosses the box in the back seat. “No, that wasn’t a joke. You seemed focused. You and Andrew did a great job working side by side. You make a good team.”

“I guess.”

“So, you and Iris?”

“What about us?”

“I assume you had a fight or something?”

He pulls out of the lot and we pass a small group of fans at the entrance to the set. A couple of cameras flash and I cover my eyes from the incredible glare in the dark. I’m relieved when he doesn’t stop. “Can you even see?” I ask him. I blink back the light spots the flashes made on my vision.

“No, but I’m not stopping here.” I can hear my name being called by some of the girls we pass.

“Jeez, it’s all so crazy.” I start laughing even though nothing is funny, but once I start I can’t stop. To make matters worse, tears well in my eyes and I get the hiccups. Gabe shoots me a weird look that starts my giggles over again. I lean my head back against the headrest and laugh until I cry. “Everyone wants something, you know? An autograph or an idea or to smile or not smile or to hold hands.” All of this comes out in a blubbering, snotty mess.

“Um…”

“Sorry,” I say, wiping my face and nose on my shirt. “Yes. Iris and I had a fight. This is what happens when we do.”

“You act like a maniac?”

“No, I feel like crap and stress out about everything.”

He stops at a light, reaches his hand out and takes mine. “It’s okay. We’ve been working some exceptionally long hours and everyone has been pushed past their limit.” The light changes and he starts driving again, but my hand is still locked with his. Gabe thinks I’m with Andrew and I know I shouldn’t let him. Still, I don’t move away. “People want you and Iris to hold hands and smile and stuff?”

“Shut up.” I say, rolling my eyes. “It’s website stuff.”

“Oh. Okay. Can I help? You know how impressed I am with your fansite. It’s the best one out there.”

“No. We’re having a difference of opinion on our focus. What angle we want to take. Which stories we want to push and how to present the information,” I say. “And other stuff.”

In the light of the dashboard, I see his eyebrow raise. “Other stuff?”

“Just stupid stuff.” I don’t want to talk about this. I can’t talk about it. My agreement with Derek feels like a barb in my mouth.

“Like you and Andrew?” His hand tenses in mine and his eyes are straight ahead, the lights of the occasional passing car flashing over us.

“Yeah.”

“She wants to include your, um, relationship as part of Z.net.” When he says the word “relationship” his hand loosens from mine and returns to the steering wheel.

“Yes.”

“But you want all of that kept private? Because I mean, I can see Iris’ point, she wants the traffic.” I start to protest and he cuts me off, saying, “I see yours, too. Trust me, I don’t want your website tainted by whatever issues you have with each other.”

“No,” I say. “I mean, nothing about Andrew is private, right? And Iris wants to use the website as a platform to fight the wank site. Which I get. I just don’t want to lose what Z.net is about — why we’re there. We’ve always been about the books and the movie. Fan art and videos. Chats and discussions. Reid’s site is more pure than ours. He never wavers, even if it means he’ll lose visitors. I want one thing in my life to stay the same. I want Z.net to have integrity. Even if nothing else does.”

Gabe pulls into my driveway. The house is pitch black other than the light over the side porch. My stomach sinks when I realize my parents are at a teachers’ conference and I have the next couple days at home alone. Iris is supposed to spend the night with me.

“What have you done to make you feel like you’ve lost your integrity?” How many questions can he ask? We’re dancing around it. “It” being me and Andrew and this stupid, fake, zero-chemistry relationship.

“Nothing. Okay?” I rub the heels of my palms on my eyes. I’m so tired and this conversation is a mess. “I think I just need to go to bed.”

He gives me a weak smile and I get out of the car. He’s by my side before I even get my bag off the floor. “You don’t have to walk with me.”

He shakes his head. “Of course I do. My mom and your dad would both kick my ass if I didn’t.” He takes the satchel I’ve been reduced to carrying at all times and slings it over his shoulder. When we reach the porch, he leans against the railing. “Plus, I have something to ask you.”

Moths crash into the porch light, casting shadows across the side of the house. I can hear James Brown scratching the inside of the door, whining. “Sure, anything.”

“I’m done with my draft.”

The first real smile of the night breaks across my face. “You are?”

“Yeah,” he’s smiling too. His hands are shoved in his pockets and his shoulders are up to his ears. I’m amazed he gets so nervous talking about this stuff at his level of success. “Can I bring it to you tomorrow?”