Sweet Little Lies Page 12

  One crisis at a time, Madison thought. I’ll figure it out later. I always do.

  She moved over to the Italian couch and perched on the armrest, making sure to push her shoulders back in a way that made her cleavage look…telegenic. She was glad she had worn her formfitting pink tank top today. “You doing okay, sweetie?” she said to Jane, who was still sitting on the floor.

  Jane took another swig from her sports bottle, then put it down next to her sad little plant. She rose to her feet and joined Madison on the couch. “I feel like I just moved,” she complained good-naturedly. “I did just move. Twice. In August, Scar and I moved from Santa Barbara to our first apartment by the 101. And in September, we moved from there to the Palazzo.”

  “Moving day is always super-stressful,” Madison agreed.

  “When’d you move into this place? It belongs to your parents, right?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been here for, like, a year?”

  “It’s soooo amazing!”

  “Thanks!”

  Jane glanced around. “How come there aren’t any pictures of them?”

  “Of who?”

  “Your parents.”

  Madison forced a smile, mostly to buy herself the split second she needed to craft a plausible story. She hadn’t been prepared for this question. “I have them on my laptop,” she improvised. “I’m soooo bad about ordering prints and putting them in frames and stuff. Plus, to tell you the truth, my parents are kinda camera-shy. They hate people seeing pictures of them.”

  “Guess you didn’t inherit that from them,” Jane teased her.

  Bitch, Madison thought.

  Jane sat up abruptly as one of the movers passed by, carrying a coffee table. “Hey, that’s Scar’s!” she said to Madison. “That’s my roommate’s!” she said to the guy, then corrected herself. “I mean, my ex-roommate’s.”

  “Sorry about that! We’ll return it to your old apartment once we’re done here,” the guy apologized.

  “No problem.” Jane turned back to Madison. “I didn’t even say good-bye to her before I left.”

  “Whatever. You shouldn’t be worried about her, after the way she treated you,” Madison said. “Seriously, that girl needs therapy.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Sweetie, you’re way too understanding. You’ve gotta stop letting people walk all over you.”

  “Scar didn’t walk all over me.”

  “She did! You’re just too nice a person to see it.”

  Understanding. Nice. The words caught in her throat and practically made her gag. Still, Madison didn’t want Jane doubting this new arrangement, even though she and her ficus and all the rest of her crap were cramping Madison’s style. Besides, Trevor had called her yesterday and told her that she shouldn’t hold back on expressing her opinions about Scarlett to Jane, if that was what she felt “compelled to do.” Translation: Trevor was ecstatic that Scarlett and Jane were fighting, and he wanted to keep the tense friendship triangle going for as long as possible. Madison knew that he and the other producers had been struggling to find story lines for the totally unfilmable Scarlett. Her rift with Jane was actually good news for the show. And Madison was happy to cooperate.

  Jane sighed. “I feel bad about the way we left things. Maybe I should call her?”

  Jane was acting like she was having second thoughts about moving. Madison had to distract her from those thoughts. “No! You wait for her to call you. She owes you a huge apology,” she said quickly. “Besides, I wanna talk to you about something. It’s important.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve been thinking. Now that you’re living here, maybe we could think about getting a pet? Like a puppy?”

  Jane’s eyes widened. “Whaaaat? No way! I’ve always wanted a puppy! Ohmigod, Madison, are you serious?”

  Madison grinned as she took in the sight of Jane’s happy face. Wow. Jane had mentioned to her once how she couldn’t have a dog growing up because of her mom’s allergies. Madison knew the puppy idea would win her points with Jane. She had no idea that she would basically be hitting the jackpot.

  “Yeah, I’m serious. What are you doing tomorrow? You wanna go dog shopping?”

  “Yes! Madison, I love you!” Jane leaned over and gave Madison a big hug.

  “Love you, too, sweetie!” As Madison hugged her back, she shifted a few inches to the right—just enough so that the cameras had her profile in their sights, and not Jane’s. Monopolizing the frame was hard work, almost as hard as coming up with clever lies.

  Fortunately for Madison, she was really good at both.

  23

  REMEMBRANCE OF THINGS PAST

  “Let us explore the significance of the madeleine in Proust’s novel,” Professor Friedman said.

  Scarlett slunk down in her seat and pulled her long black hair across her face, obscuring it. She knew that she would get a text from Dana any second now, telling her to sit up and push her hair back and act alive for the cameras. And normally she would be happy to engage in some spirited class participation, not for the sake of the show, but because she had actually started enjoying Remembrance of Things Past and discussing it with the very tough but very smart Professor Friedman (who looked like an older Kristen Stewart, and who seemed to favor cool black vintage dresses).

  But not today. Scarlett was in a foul mood—for two very good reasons.

  Jane had moved out of their apartment.

  And Jane had moved into Madison’s apartment.

  Her cell buzzed. “Ugh,” Scarlett muttered under her breath, ignoring it. It was no doubt Dana, begging her to behave.

  As if that strategy ever worked.

  The lit seminar on French novels was on the small side, around fifteen people. Scarlett didn’t know most of the students, except for the girl with the elaborate tats on her arms (Vivian?), who had passed her a note at the beginning of the class saying, Reality TV is for whores. Nice. There was also the guy sitting next to her, whom she had mentally labeled Surfer Boy, who kept leaning in her direction for no good reason and trying to get into the shot. He had confessed to her last week that he wanted to be an actor, and could she introduce him to the PopTV producers? And maybe her agent, too?

  There was another student in the class who kind of intrigued her, named Chelsea. Chelsea seemed super-smart, always making insightful comments and asking interesting questions. She and Scarlett had talked a few times, away from the cameras, and Chelsea had suggested that they hang out sometime, also away from the cameras. Scarlett planned to take Chelsea up on her invitation one of these days, when she had gotten over her bad mood about Jane and Madison. Which, at this rate, might be never.

  Liam and another camera guy were wedged in opposite corners of the room, which seemed barely bigger than someone’s kitchen. Dana was hovering in the hall, listening in on her headset. Liam had caught Scarlett’s eye a couple of times, looking concerned, but she had tried to ignore him. She didn’t want sympathy. Actually, she never wanted sympathy. Sympathy was for losers who couldn’t deal, and she was most definitely not one of those.

  “First of all, can anyone tell me what a madeleine is? More important, can one find it at Starbucks?” Professor Friedman said. A few students laughed politely. “How does Proust use it as a literary device?”

  If Scarlett didn’t feel so crappy, she would answer the professor’s questions about the madeleine, which was a little shell-shaped cookie or cake, depending on your view. In Remembrance of Things Past, the narrator ate a madeleine with some tea, and the smell and taste of it unlocked all kinds of long-buried, wonderful, interesting memories.

  Scarlett loved the idea of sensory experiences invoking memories. Like how hearing some song from the summer of 2005 could suddenly take you right back there. Or how smelling a certain cologne could make you think of an old boyfriend. There were all kinds of sensory experiences that Scarlett associated with her and Jane’s life back in Santa Barbara. The coconutty scent of sunscreen. (Beach, checking out guy
s, commiserating about the previous night’s bad dates.) The taste of blueberry pancakes. (Jane’s dad made them really well, and the two girls used to eat way too many of them on Sunday mornings, after sleepovers.) Seeing constellations in the night sky. (When they were eight, Scarlett taught Jane the names of the constellations, including her favorite, Orion the Hunter.)

  And now…she and Jane weren’t even speaking to each other.

  How could their friendship go from so great to so…not there?

  Scarlett listened but didn’t speak for the rest of the class, occasionally typing notes on her laptop and continuing to disregard Dana’s increasingly insistent texts. When it was time to go, she scooped up her belongings, stuffed them into her backpack, and made a beeline for the door. As she passed Liam packing up equipment, he reached out his hand as if to intercept her, but then jerked it back as he noticed Dana approaching.

  “Scarlett? A word?” Dana snapped. Her face looked even more stressed than usual.

  “Love to stop and chat, but, um, I have an appointment with my adviser,” Scarlett improvised. “We’ll talk later.”

  Scarlett escaped into the hallway—and practically ran smack into a familiar figure.

  “Hey, Scarlett!” Cammy was standing there, waving like a maniac, dressed in super-short denim shorts and a maroon USC baby tee that barely contained her very fake, oversize chest. “How’s it going?”

  Talk about a blast from the past—the recent past, anyway. Scarlett had met Cammy during her first week of the fall semester…and had been dodging her ever since. Which wasn’t easy: Cammy had become determined to befriend her once she saw the L.A. Candy cameras.

  “I’m great, Cammy,” Scarlett replied, fake-smiling. “See you around! Bye!”

  “Wait!” Cammy grabbed her arm. “I’ve been soooo worried about you.”

  “You have?”

  “Yeah, ’cause I heard that your best friend, Jane, moved out?”

  Scarlett frowned. Jane had moved out all of two days ago. News didn’t travel that fast—did it?

  “Uh, Cammy? How do you know that?” Scarlett asked.

  Cammy ignored her question. “You guys had a big fight, huh? Personally, I think it’s that girl Madison’s fault, don’t you?”

  Scarlett stared at her. And then she stared at Cammy’s very fake oversize chest. Scarlett could just make out the outline of a wire in the general area, running down and around her torso.

  Cammy was miked.

  Scarlett glanced around the crowded hallway and spotted the other camera guy (not Liam) standing nearby, his lens pointed at the two girls. This was a setup. A Dana (and Trevor?) setup.

  Assholes!

  Scarlett turned her attention back to Cammy. “Actually, Madison is one of my BFFs,” she said with another fake smile. “She’s not doing very well, though.”

  Cammy scrunched up her face. “Huh?”

  “Madison has this condition that makes it difficult for her to control her bowel movements,” Scarlett explained. “That’s why Jane moved in with her temporarily. To take care of her.”

  Cammy’s eyes grew huge. “Oh!”

  “Yeah, it’s pretty serious. Anyway, gotta go. Bye!”

  “Wait! Scarlett!”

  Scarlett started down the hall, along the way ripping off her mike pack and tossing it to the camera guy (who barely managed to catch it, or the finger she flipped him). She saw a door for the women’s room and rushed in, finding an empty stall.

  She sat down and put her face in her hands, sucking in a deep breath. What a crappy day. What a crappy week. What a crappy month. What a crappy year.

  Maybe she should just get off the show. And maybe she should leave L.A.? But then what? Go back to Santa Barbara? Not an option. Transfer to another school after all? Maybe. Jane was the real reason she was living here to begin with. And now that they were on the outs, Scarlett had nothing tying her to the city.

  Except for Liam.

  Her phone buzzed. Damn Dana, Scarlett thought irritably and fished her phone out of her pocket to turn it off.

  But she saw that this latest text was from Liam, not Dana.

  HEY R U OK? he had written.

  Scarlett was anything but okay. She hit Reply and typed, IM FINE.

  ANYTHING I CAN DO? he wrote.

  NOPE, she replied.

  WE STILL ON 4 TONITE?

  Scarlett hesitated. Liam was taking her out to dinner at his favorite French restaurant tonight because he thought she would enjoy practicing her French on the fluent staff. He also just wanted to cheer her up after everything she’d been through lately.

  CANT, SORRY, Scarlett typed finally. RAIN CHECK.

  Liam didn’t reply.

  Now I’m being the asshole, Scarlett thought.

  But she couldn’t help it. She willed her guilty conscience to go away. The last thing she needed was to have Liam trying to cheer her up or save her or whatever. She wasn’t some sort of helpless little victim. She could get through this mess on her own. She had always managed alone in the past. And she would continue to manage alone in the future.

  24

  BE GOOD

  “Okay, can you two stop making out?” Gaby giggled. “The show’s PG, remember?”

  “We’re not making out,” Jane said, blushing as Jesse kissed her neck. Jane leaned back on the comfy leather couch, enjoying the atmosphere at Teddy’s. The room was dark and intimate, with high, arched ceilings and a stylish chandelier glittering over the upholstered leather bar. The effect was very old-style Hollywood glam. “I really like it here. I’ve never been before, have you, Jesse?”

  “A couple times,” Jesse replied. “But never with you—so it’s like the first time all over again.” He gave Jane his I know I’m a cheeseball smile and took a sip of his Jack and Coke, swishing the ice cubes around in the glass. Jane noticed that after a few weeks of soft drinks (and some wine and beer here and there), he was back to cocktails. “Friend of mine is a promoter, and he does a night here. Quentin Sparks.”

  “Quentin, I know Quentin!” Jane said. “D introduced him to me at the series premiere party at Area.”

  “Is he cute?” Gaby asked eagerly.

  Jesse laughed. “His boyfriend, Todd, thinks so.”

  Gaby shrugged and proceeded to scope out the scene. “I’m sure there’s some hot guy here tonight who can’t wait to buy me a drink.”

  The mostly B-list, well-dressed crowd was dancing to a jazz band that played everything from Billie Holliday and Etta James to Norah Jones. Jane wondered if any of them were miked, or if it was just her, Jesse, and Gaby tonight—and Madison and Scar, if and when they made it.

  Trevor and Dana had arranged for the girls to attend the event, which was for some new magazine called Alt. Jane had noticed the Alt logo all over the step-and-repeat when she and Jesse walked in, and again on the cool-looking metallic blue gift bags that some stressed-out assistant named Emily was arranging on a table. (Jane had felt an instant wave of sympathy for Emily, being an assistant herself.) Trevor was actually here tonight, along with Dana and the rest of the crew. Jane wasn’t sure if he was here for the party or for work, and whether she should talk to him or ignore him.

  Jane didn’t know what she should do when she saw Scar, either—she hadn’t seen or talked to her in almost a week—not since she’d moved into Madison’s apartment. What would Scar do when she eventually showed up at the party? Would she be polite to Jane? Cold? Bitchy? All of the above? Having Jesse and Madison there definitely wouldn’t help things. Jane just prayed Scar wouldn’t pick a fight with them, especially with the cameras present.

  She felt Jesse’s warm lips brush up against her ear. “Can we leave yet?” he whispered.

  Jane punched him playfully on the arm. “No! Be good!”

  “I am being good. I just wanna see what you’re wearing under that little black dress.”

  “Shhhh!” Jane knew the mikes wouldn’t pick him up at that low volume, but still!

  “Hey,
kids!”

  Jane’s head shot up. Madison, clad in a gold minidress with a narrow V-neck that plunged down almost to her belly button, was approaching their table. She smiled at Jane, Gaby, and Jesse—especially Jesse.

  “Hi, Maddy!” Gaby stood up and air-kissed her on both cheeks. Jane used to think the two were best friends, but lately she hadn’t seen them hanging out together much. “You want a Cosmo? They’re really good here.”

  “Sure, sweetie. Please don’t call me that. Hi, you lovebirds,” she said, sliding onto the couch next to Jesse. “How’s the party?”

  “This place is beautiful,” Jane said, her gaze shifting nervously between Madison and Jesse. Jesse wouldn’t acknowledge Madison, and his expression was tense. “Have you been here before?”

  “Ohmigod, all the time. Hey, Jesse? Can I talk to you privately?”

  Jesse turned to Madison, looking surprised. “What? Why?”

  “One minute. That’s all I need.”

  “Uh…okay.” He turned back to Jane and flashed his WTF? smile—he had a lot of different smiles, and Jane was getting to know them all.

  Jane watched as Madison and Jesse wandered off, weaving through the crowd. What was that about? Madison had promised her that she would try to get along better with Jesse. Maybe she was going to apologize to him?

  “Uh-oh. Madison’s trying to steal your man,” Gaby warned her.

  “I don’t think so,” Jane said, wishing Gaby wouldn’t say stuff like that on-camera. She knew it was too easy for Trevor to use it out of context. “Hey, you and Hannah and I have a meeting tomorrow, right? I can’t believe the Valentine’s Day party’s less than a month away.”

  “Why are we having a meeting? Didn’t we decide everything already?” Gaby said, scanning the room. “We’ve got a venue, we’ve got a sponsor, we’ve got the DJ. What else is there?”