Game On (16 page)

“Cool,” Nicole said.

“Cool,” Maya agreed.

.   .   .

The line to get into the Sour snaked from the bouncer all the way around the building. Maya approached it, decked out in a pair of Renee's Manolos (they were worth the bruises) and a ruffled silk Chloé dress that Renee said made her blue eyes pop out of her head like lasers. Renee also insisted she carry something called a Birkin bag, which was ridiculously large, especially considering all she had in it was her ID and a half-used lip balm. But it sure turned heads.

Of course, Maya's most head-turning accessory was one Miss Nicole King. In her silver Dior minidress and matching Jimmy Choos, she was turning it out. The world was Nicole's runway. And she could stomp it better than the models in Milan.

“You walk better in heels than in sneakers,” Maya said.

“I play better in them, too.” Nicole smiled.

As they got close enough, Maya spotted two things that made her nervous. The 21-and-over sign on the door and the fact that everyone in line had the same printed-out invitation they did.

“The line isn't moving at all,” Maya said. “And they're carding. I don't have a fake ID.”

“Don't worry about it,” Nicole said. “You have a real me.”

Nicole led Maya to the front of the line, passing a throng of paparazzi, who came to life upon seeing her. The only time the girls had to stop was for the bouncer to unhook the rope and open the door.

Inside the club was pure electricity. Actors and musicians mingled with supermodels and celebutantes. Maya felt like a spy as she studied them in their natural habitat. Without their
guards up for the public, they were just as loud and silly as normal people. Except they were a million times richer.

Maya wondered what Cleo would think of this madness. She'd planned to wait for Cleo to show up at the villa tonight before leaving, but Nicole had insisted she couldn't hit this party without a decent pedicure. So she'd left her a note. Maya vowed to remember every little detail for her.

Maya surveyed the room and spotted another velvet rope. On the other side of it, she saw the guests of honor. Force of Habit! The entire band seemed to be doing shots with whoever brought them over. She could've stared at the band all night, but Nicole had other ideas. Before Maya knew it, she was at the bar having a drink poured for her.

The bartender smiled at Nicole as he handed her the drink. “I saw that picture you posted on Twitter. The real freaky one from the shower. Hilarious.”

Maya froze.

“Thanks,” Nicole said. She turned to Maya, who gripped her drink white-knuckled. After giving herself a perm in the sixth grade, posting that picture of Nicole online was Maya's biggest regret in life.

“Relax.” Nicole sipped her drink. “It's fine.” But it wasn't fine. Not totally.

“It was a crappy thing to do,” Maya said, unwilling to be let off the hook.

“Yeah, it was,” Nicole agreed. “But, you know, I did trick you into breaking and entering. …” It was the other elephant in the room.

“Sliding and entering,” Maya said out of habit.

“What?” Nicole asked.

“That's what I said when Nails was chewing me out,” Maya said. “I said I didn't actually break anything. I thought it was a good argument.”

“ ‘Sliding and entering'?” A small smile crept across Nicole's face.

“You should have seen his face when I said it,” Maya remembered. “He was like …” Maya made a face that was somewhere between horror and pity. Nicole smiled wider. “He already thought I was a moron. I mean, who does Cirque du Soleil through a window for a poster? That isn't even hers? And there I am pleading, ‘I did it for the sick kid in the hospital!' ”

Nicole laughed. “Sorry. I'm going to hell for that one. But did you see my thighs in that poster? And then you take that picture of me in the shower and put it on blast to, like, millions of people. …” Nicole laughed harder. Which made Maya laugh. “And people were like, ‘Oh, you were so brave to post that, Nicole.' I almost had a benefit thrown in my honor!”

“We've been causing problems for each other since I got here,” Maya said. “Meanwhile I'm doing nothing but trying to stay out of your way. …”

“And I'm thinking, who is this chick and why is she in my face, like, every minute?” Nicole kept laughing. “My car, my shower, my house … everywhere!”

“And I was thinking, when is this girl going to kill me?” Maya fought to get the words out, she was laughing so hard. “I had Cleo on night watch while I slept!”

They were each wiping tears from their eyes.

“You are one scary person,” Maya finally said. “I don't know if anyone's ever told you that.”

“Once or twice,” she said. “I hope you're not scared of me anymore.” Nicole handed her a napkin to wipe her mascara.

“As long as you're not trying to kill me in my sleep,” Maya said.

“I make no promises.” Nicole smiled. For the first time, Maya felt like they were really becoming friends. Nicole was no longer this untouchable idol. She was flesh and blood. And Maya liked her that way.

They continued exploring the party, making friends in every corner. And enjoying each other's company. Maya was a huge hit in her public debut, scoring appreciative looks from a whole bunch of guys. This time, when Nicole left her to say hi to random people and she was alone, she didn't feel terror like she had at the costume party. Here at the Sour, she'd never felt better.

It was at that exact moment when Maya was on her own and feeling fabulous that she was suddenly slammed into from behind. She looked down at her dress to find a vodka cranberry running down her.

“Hey!” She turned to the guy, who was just as annoyed at her.

Jeans, T-shirt. True to form, he couldn't be bothered to make an effort at all. Jake.

“I thought you had to have good vision to be a tennis player,” Jake said.

“You bumped into me!” Maya yelled over the music. Though she probably didn't have to yell that loud. “How about
an ‘I'm sorry'? Or have you never said those words in your life?”

“Kitty has claws,” Jake said, taking in her outfit. “How about we just kiss and make up?”

“There is nowhere on earth dark enough for that,” Maya said, revolted. She looked at the stain. She'd been so happy to fit in, if just for a moment. Now she was back to looking like a fool.

“Here, I'll help you clean up.” Jake grabbed a rag from the nearby bar and began wiping her down. Not only was he essentially pawing her, he was smearing the dirty rag on her, making it worse.

“Thanks, I've got it!” Maya said, snatching the rag away. She grabbed an unattended water bottle off the bar, soaked some napkins, and tried to mitigate the damage.

“Where's Travis tonight?” Jake asked.

“He has practice in the morning,” she said. Travis had texted her earlier, and she wished even more now that he was here. “Don't you have practice, too? I seem to recall you losing a bet or something?”

“I said I'd be there,” Jake quipped. “I never said I'd be sober.”

Maya just rolled her eyes.

“Where's Mandy?” Maya asked.

“Mindy,” Jake corrected. “She's studying for the bar.” Maya looked at him cock-eyed. Jake just laughed. “Kidding. She's right over there, hooking up with some guy.”

He motioned to the bar. Sure enough, there was Mindy, sucking face with a bouncer.

Maya was horrified. “That doesn't bother you?”

“Why should it bother me?” It was a genuine question.

“Because you two were together?” she said. “And now you're not?” His expression was blank. “And you have emotions?”

Jake furrowed his brow. “You read a lot of romance novels, huh?” It was another genuine question.

“Normal people invest a little something in who they hook up with,” Maya informed him. “I don't know if you've heard.”

Jake smirked. “So says the girl who made out with me in the dark at some random party.”

“I thought you were Travis!” Maya said.

“Who you barely knew,” Jake lobbed back at her. “That doesn't bother you? Don't you have emotions?”

Maya clenched. “That is not the same thing.”

“No, you're right,” Jake agreed. “I knew Mindy longer.”

She was stymied. Jake was absolutely right. He was enjoying watching her squirm.

“What is your problem?” she asked. More like demanded.

“I don't have a problem,” he said glibly.

“Yeah, you do,” Maya shot back.

“Yeah?” Jake scratched his head. “What is it, then?”

“You,” she said. “You're one big, walking problem. You're a brat, you say whatever comes to your head, you complain about everything even though you could have whatever you want, you have no respect for women, you're every girl's nightmare, you're just a terrible, terrible person.”

Jake just looked at her. “Are you as turned on as I am?”

Maya was flabbergasted. Absolutely flabbergasted. “Enjoy
the rest of your evening, Jake. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go enjoy mine.”

With that, Maya fled, leaving Jake behind smiling.

Maya looked high and low for Nicole. She couldn't risk being alone anymore lest she get dragged into another ridiculous conversation. Finally, she found her. She was on the other side of the second velvet rope, making out with the Force of Habit lead singer.

Maya made her way over, trying to play it nonchalantly.

“Maya!” Nicole said, seeing her and unsuctioning herself from his lips. “You know Adam, right?”

Maya was too starstruck to speak. So she just nodded, which actually served to make her look cool and aloof.

“Nice to meet you, Maya,” he said. He was beyond wasted, barely able to work out the mechanics of a handshake. He was also only a few years younger than the hip-hop guy Nicole mused could go to jail for flirting with her, but she didn't seem too concerned about the fate of this guy.

Nicole introduced her to the rest of the band, putting extra emphasis on the drummer. Then she pulled Maya in for a one-on-one.

“The drummer thinks you're hot,” Nicole said. “They're staying at the Borealis.”

“Um,” Maya said. “I'm kinda dating Travis. …”

Nicole raised her eyebrows.

“I'm flattered, but … I think I'm okay.” Maya wasn't sure what was more surreal, getting attention from the drummer of Force of Habit or being in any position to turn him down.

Nicole just turned to the drummer. “She's not interested. Sorry.”

Maya was wide-eyed. How could Nicole just drop that on him so bluntly?!

“No, I'm … no offense,” Maya said, her face so bright red that even Crayola couldn't replicate it. “It's not like you're not … I'm just … there's this guy …”

“That's cool,” the drummer said without a hint of irritation. “I'll just go home with her.” He motioned to the model across the table, who'd heard the whole thing and still smiled like she'd won the lottery.

Nicole looked at Maya as if to say,
See, not a big deal
. There was a lot to learn about how this other world operated, and Maya felt seriously behind the curve.

“Cool,” Maya said.

Maya spent the next couple of hours partying with the band. Which really just amounted to listening to their stories and making them feel like they were kings of the universe. Which wasn't difficult, because, to Maya, they were.

“Hey,” Adam said to Nicole as the night wound down. “Wanna blow out of here?”

Nicole smiled. “Maya?”

“Sure,” Maya said. “I'm ready when you are.” Maya was definitely ready to call it a night. Nicole's life was thrilling but exhausting. She could only really take a few hours at a time.

Maya, Nicole, and Adam made their way to the exit. When they stepped out onto the sidewalk, they were overwhelmed by a wall of light. The minute the paparazzi saw Nicole and Adam together, they went crazy.

“The limo's not here,” Adam slurred.

The only means of escape was Nicole's car.

“Come on,” Nicole said. They forced their way through the throngs of photographers and got to her Aston Martin. A two-seater. The photographers were circling them.

“It's okay,” Maya said, doing the math. “Go.”

Nicole gave her a look that was both thankful and apologetic, then jumped in the car and took off in a blur.

As the photographers chased after them trying to snag a few last shots, Maya dug into her borrowed Birkin to find that she'd spent the forty dollars she'd brought on two drinks. She had no money for a cab, and everyone she knew had already left.

Or almost everyone.

“Need a lift?”

Jake pulled up next to her in his black '68 Firebird. It had a gold phoenix that covered the entire hood. It was an odd choice for someone who could afford a way more expensive car, but everything about Jake was odd. Including the fact that there was no girl riding shotgun.

“I don't get in cars with people who've been drinking,” Maya said.

“I didn't drink a drop. I have practice tomorrow,” he said, smiling. “See, I'm not so terrible. Hop in.”

“Aren't you saving that seat for someone with a higher skirt and lower standards?” Maya asked.

Jake grinned. “I copped all my feels in the bar, but it's nice to know you care.”

Maya was taken aback, but she refused to show it. “I don't,” she replied curtly.

“Don't what?” Jake said. “Need a ride, or care?”

“Both,” she said.

“Really?” he said. “Because I can still smell the smoke from Nicole's tires.”

“I'll take a cab,” she huffed. “Cabs take credit cards.” Then she remembered. She'd left her emergency credit card at home. She hadn't wanted to be tempted to use it at the bar and then have her father see on the statement where she'd spent her night. “Or IOUs …”