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“I’m Massie, by the way.” She held out her hand. “And you are?”

  “I’m Conner Foley.” He shook her finger. “The star of this film.”

  “Really?” Alicia batted her eyelashes. “We’re auditioning.”

  “Oh, you’re the nobodies Rupert is testing.” He backed away from Claire. “I’ll be running lines with you in an hour. I wanted my standin to do it, but you know Rupert: Everything has to be so friggin’ real.”

  “That’s so Rupe.” Massie rolled her eyes.

  “What’s the scene about?” Alicia asked, batting her long lashes.

  “I think it’s the part where Molly tells Brad she’s in love with him.”

  “Great,” Claire groaned. How could she possibly face Conner again after spitting in his face?

  “Oh, wun-dehful, I see you’ve met.” Emma handed a script to each of the girls. “I mahk’d the pages you need to lehn. Rupert will be ready foh all of you in thurdy minutes. I’ll be by to pick you up then.”

  “Thanks,” the girls replied at slightly different times.

  “Conner better cruise.” He knocked the hollow wall, then turned on the heel of his motorcycle boot. “Later, babygirls.”

  “See ya,” Massie chirped.

  “Bu-yyyye,” Alicia called after him.

  “Ehmagawd!” They grabbed each other’s wrists once he was gone.

  “Did you really not know who I was?” Conner poked his head back in the room. “Or were you just playing?”

  Massie and Alicia immediately let go of each other.

  “We were just playing.” Massie winked.

  Conner bit his bottom lip and shook his head. “Oh, you are a devilish one.” He shook his finger. “I better keep an eye on you.”

  “Yes.” Massie batted her eyelashes. “You better.”

  “And on me too.” Alicia stood up straight, revealing her ample cleavage. “I’m devilish too.”

  “Yes, you are.” Conner popped another unlit cigarette in his mouth and turned down the hall.

  Once they were certain he was gone, Massie and Alicia locked eyes, flapped their wrists, and silent-screamed for a good five minutes while Claire fanned her wet shirt with a Dunkin’ Donuts box.

  GELDING STUDIOS

  RUPERT MANN’S OFFICE

  Monday, March 16th

  1:30 P.M.

  The inside of Rupert’s office—which happened to be the house used in Cellar Dweller and Cellar Dweller 2—was more like a tribute to the director’s career than a place of business.

  “Look.” Massie lifted a floppy straw hat off the “lucky bowling ball” that had been used in Gutter Snipe and put it on her head. “Who am I?” She tried to break into a model’s strut but her path was obstructed by an eighteenth-century sofa, a cluster of beanbags, and two park benches. So she struck a pose instead. “Anyone?”

  Claire and Alicia remained seated on the taxi seat used in Roadblock, their spines stiff and their eyes focused on the scripts in their hands.

  “Come awn, you know this!” Massie took off the hat and put it on her head again.

  Alicia looked up. “Uh, Jan Dandy from Country Roads.”

  “Yup.” Massie put the hat back on the ball and scanned the room for another distraction.

  There was a shelf full of rubber masks pinned to Styrofoam heads by the window, but she didn’t feel like stepping over the piles of old Variety magazines to get to them. The last thing she needed was more sweat to roll down the backs of her knees. Why had she worn velvet pants on such a hot day? And why did Rupert insist on keeping his windows closed and his blinds open? She felt like she had been locked in a tanning booth. If Rupert didn’t get back from lunch soon, the wax on her hair extensions would melt.

  Massie brought her pinky to her lips, then lowered it before doing something she’d regret to her perfectly even nails. “Aren’t you guys hot?”

  The girls didn’t even bother to lift their heads.

  Massie eyed her script. It was on the heart-shaped night table (used during the dream sequence in He Loves Me Not), but she was too nervous to focus. Besides, she knew all of her lines. She even knew Conner’s. And if she wasn’t going to rehearse anymore, no one should.

  “I know.” She slapped her thigh, then began pacing. “Let’s play What Would You Rather? Okay, what would you rather? A part in this movie or a two-year modeling contract?”

  Alicia lifted her gaze. “A part in this movie.”

  “Kuh-laire?”

  She was staring out the window, moving her lips like a mental patient.

  “Kuh-laire! Enough memorizing,” Massie snapped. “Which would you rather?”

  “The movie.” Claire returned to her pages.

  Massie grabbed Rupert’s “Best Director for Waterlogged” Oscar off his cluttered desk. “Okay, which would you rather?” She spoke into the statue’s head as if it were a microphone. “A part in this movie, or to get back into OCD and get straight A’s?”

  She held the Oscar in front of Alicia’s face.

  “Would I have to try, or would the straight A’s be automatic?” Alicia asked her script.

  “Please, madame, speak into the mic.” Massie pressed the Oscar against Alicia’s lips. “Ew, you got gloss on his dome.”

  “Well, no one told you to mash it into my lips.”

  “Kuh-laire?” Massie put Oscar on Claire’s script. “What would you rather?” She tilted him from side to side so it looked like he was asking the question. “Come on, tell me.”

  “So, I see you’ve met Oscar.” Rupert stood in the doorway picking a piece of lettuce out of his teeth using the corner of an actor’s headshot.

  “I’m—I’m so sorry, I was just—”

  “No woh-rries, glad you could make it.” He reached into his distressed leather man-bag and pulled out Massie’s purple-rhinestone-covered cell phone. “Hows ’bout you give me my baby and I’ll give you yohs?”

  Massie wiped the statue on her pants to clean Alicia’s MAC Lipglass off Oscar’s head. Once she handed it to Rupert, he dropped the phone into her palm.

  When it landed, she felt a tingly sensation shoot up her arm. A few rhinestones were missing and the antenna was chipped, but it didn’t matter. Holding the Motorola was like being with an old friend who’d stopped by to cheer her on. Massie squeezed it as hard as she could, hoping it would bring her luck.

  “Shall we get stahted?” Rupert stuffed a stick of Big Red in his mouth.

  The girls stood.

  “Sit.” He sank into a director’s chair that said MR. MANN in stenciled white letters on the back. “I assume you know all yoh lines?”

  Alicia and Claire nodded. Massie tightened her grip on the phone.

  “Good, then.” He flipped through the script. “While yoh acting, beh in mind that Moh-lly is desperately lonely and hasn’t the foggiest on how to be cool. Her clothes ah pitiful, and her hai-h looks like it was cut with a spoon. Know what oy mean?”

  Massie giggled, even though she didn’t.

  “The only thing this insec-uh gihl knows foh sho is that she’s mad for a ninth gradah named Brad Douglas. In this scene, Molly tells Brad how she feels, hoping once he knows, he’ll fall in love with her. Sound good, then?”

  The girls nodded.

  “Very well, then. Who wants to go first?”

  “Me!” Massie’s stomach fluttered and the backs of her knees flooded with sweat. But she refused to show how nervous she was. If Rupert didn’t think she had confidence, he’d never buy her as a leading lady.

  “Emma, we’re ready fo-h Connah!” Rupert called.

  “Conner at your service.” The spiky-haired actor shuffled in holding a brown paper bag in one hand and a torn page from the script in the other.

  “Let’s have you both ova th-eh by the south window, near the ficus. The light is puh-fect.”

  Massie took her mark.

  “Rupert, line one,” Emma called. “It’s you-know-who.”

  Rupert took the call at his desk.
/>   “Those are some hot pants you’ve got there, babygirl.” Conner rubbed the back of his hand along the edge of Massie’s thigh.

  “Why, thank you.” Massie fought the sudden urge to pee.

  “No, I mean they’re hot hot.” Conner took a swig from his paper bag. “It’s almost eighty degrees.”

  Alicia and Claire giggled nervously.

  “Whatevs,” was all Massie could think of to say.

  Conner held out his bag. “You look like you could use a drink.”

  Massie caught a glimpse of the brown glass bottle inside. “No thanks.” She waved him away. “I never do beer before an audition.”

  Conner pinched her pant leg. “Relax, Velvet. It’s root beer.”

  “I know that, Rooty.” He wasn’t the only one who could come up with a nickname. Massie grabbed the bag out of his hand and pressed her lips on the exact spot where his lips had been.

  “Thanks, Rooty.”

  “Welcome, Velvet.”

  Claire and Alicia shifted in their seats.

  “Sorry ’bout that.” Rupert sat. “Straightaway, please. And action!”

  Conner suddenly turned his back to Massie and started twirling an invisible knob.

  “What are you doing?” She rolled her eyes.

  “Cut!” Rupert stuck two sticks of gum in his mouth. “The line is, ‘Uh, Brad, can I talk to you for a minute?’”

  “Oh.” Massie blushed. “I didn’t know we’d started.”

  “That’s what ‘action’ means.” Alicia laughed.

  Thanks, Alicia. Do you know what “shut up” means?

  “Straightaway aaaand, action!”

  Conner fiddled again and Massie suddenly realized he was opening his imaginary locker. She marched up to him and tapped his shoulder.

  “Brad, can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “Cut! The line starts with, ‘Uh, Brad.’ Not ‘Brraaaad.’” He said “Brad” in an exaggerated American accent.

  “Sorry, I just thought the ‘uh’ made Molly sound too nervous.”

  “She’s supposed to sound neh-vous.” Rupert ran his hands through his thick hair. “Less thinking and more acting, please. Action!”

  Conner began fiddling and Massie made her move.

  “Uh, Brad, can I talk to you for a minute?” She put her hands on her hips.

  “Depends who’s askin’,” Conner said to his “locker.”

  “My name is Molly.” Massie rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. “But I was hoping you already knew that.”

  “Why would I know that?” Conner looked her straight in the eye. “I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

  “Liar!” Massie smacked his arm. “Our mothers are best friends.” She smacked him again.

  “Cut!”

  Massie smiled. She’d nailed it. That was why Rupert had stopped her early.

  “Next!”

  Alicia jumped up and quickly took her place.

  “What’d you think?” Massie made sure to stand up straight as she walked back to her seat.

  “I think you portrayed the loser as being incredibly self-assured and confident.” Rupert spit a strawberry-size wad of gum in the trash and reached for the crystal bowl of cashews on his desk.

  “Thanks.” Massie beamed. She sank into the taxi seat and inhaled deeply to slow her speeding heart.

  “Action!”

  Conner fiddled.

  Alicia crept up behind Conner. “Uh, Brad, can I talk to you for a minute?” she asked softly.

  “Depends who’s askin’,” Conner said to his imaginary locker.

  “My name is Molly.” Alicia shifted nervously from one foot to the other. Then she twirled a piece of hair around her finger. “But I was hoping you already knew that.”

  “Why would I know that?” Conner looked Alicia straight in the eye. “I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

  “Liar!” Alicia knit her eyebrows, like she was confused and insulted at the same time. “Our mothers are best friends.” She leaned toward Conner like she was pleading with him.

  “I know: It’s embarrassing, isn’t it?” Conner tucked an imaginary binder under his arm and walked away.

  “But wait!” Alicia called after him. “Wait.” She lowered her head.

  Rupert applauded. “Nicely done, love. Nicely done.”

  Massie decided Rupert was just saying that to make Alicia feel better because she’d acted like such a LBR.

  “So?” Alicia smiled brightly.

  “You really seemed to understand the character—”

  Massie giggled.

  “But you’re too beautiful. I’m afraid no one would ever buy you as a loser.” Rupert shook a handful of cashews into his palm like dice, then tossed them in his mouth.

  “I’ll drink to that!” Conner tilted his head back and took a drink from his bag.

  “Thanks.” Alicia smirked at Massie, then sat down.

  “Whatevs,” Massie smirked back. Did Rupert really think Alicia was beautiful, or was he trying to be nice?

  “Next!”

  The instant Claire stood up, Massie and Alicia burst out laughing. Her shirt had a big water stain right above her Hershey’s Kiss–shaped boobs.

  “Very interesting.” Rupert unwrapped a stick of gum as he stared at Claire. “It ap-peas as though we have a method actress in ah midst.”

  Massie assumed “method” was Hollywood-speak for “mentally challenged.”

  “I admire the way you butch-ehd yo heh and stained yoh shu-ht for the audition.” Rupert folded the gum like an accordion and pushed it into his mouth. “Very clev-ah.”

  “Yeah, you definitely look the part.” Conner chuckled.

  Massie and Alicia burst out laughing, then buried their faces in each other’s shoulders.

  Claire lowered her head and shut her eyes, like she was praying.

  “Action!”

  Conner fiddled.

  Claire tugged on his shirt. “Uh, Brad, can I talk to you for a minute?” she mumbled.

  “Depends who’s askin’,” Conner said to his locker.

  “My name is Molly,” Claire said to her thumbnail. “But I was hoping you already knew that.”

  “Why would I know that?” Conner looked Claire straight in the eye. “I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

  Claire shook her head frantically, like there was a bee buzzing in her ear. “Liar.” She twirled a loose thread from her shorts around her finger until it turned purple. Then she ripped it off. “Our mothers are best friends.” She was still looking down.

  “I know: It’s embarrassing, isn’t it?” Conner tucked an imaginary binder under his arm and walked away.

  “Wait!” Claire softly beckoned. “Wait.” She gazed into the distance and wiped a lone tear off her pale cheek.

  Massie’s insides jumped for joy. There was no way Rupert would want a real loser in his movie. How would that look?

  Claire sniffled. “Uh, do you have a tissue?”

  “How about I have your assistant get that for you?” Rupert’s face lit up. “Stella!”

  Massie’s ears started ringing. He was joking, right?

  A thin Asian woman hurried in carrying a PalmPilot and a cell phone. Her long hair was tied in a neat bun and fastened with a pencil. She wore wide-leg trousers and a tight white tank top. Strings of turquoise beads hung around her neck and matched her strappy heels. If it weren’t for the chocolate chip cookie she stuffed in her mouth, Massie would have assumed she was a model.

  “Stella, could you please get this young lady a tiss-ue?” Rupert smiled like a proud parent.

  “Here you go.” She pulled a stack out of her pocket and handed it to Claire. “So, is she—?”

  “Yes,” Rupert interrupted. “This is Cl-eh Lyons. She will be replacing Hadley.”

  “What?” Massie heard herself shout. “You can’t be serious.” Her face was burning like it was on fire, and she felt her entire body break out into a cold sweat.
/>   Claire put her hand over her open mouth. “I don’t believe it. Are you kidding?”

  Rupert chuckled.

  She looked around the room, her arms wide, like she was searching for someone to hug. But when no one came forward, she grabbed her own shoulders and swayed. “Thank you so much, Mr. Mann. You won’t be disappointed.”

  “Call me Ru-pehrt.”

  Conner winked. “And call me later.”

  Massie swallowed hard as her entire social life flashed before her eyes. What would keep the girls at OCD loyal to her now? Or even the Pretty Committee? She pressed her hand against her mouth, not even caring that she was smudging her gloss.

  Would Alicia, Kristen, and Dylan treat Claire like the alpha and her like the wannabe? Derrington would probably find another crush, someone more deserving of Briarwood’s star goalie. And Claire Lyons would be rich, possibly richer than her!

  She felt herself starting to hyperventilate and considered stealing Conner’s brown bag so she could breathe into it. She always saw people doing that in the movies, but she figured with her luck she’d inhale the bag, choke on it, and die right there in front of everyone.

  “Claire.” Stella tapped her PalmPilot. “I have you double-booked for a few interviews this afternoon, so let me know which ones you want to do and which ones you want me to cancel. Also, Abby would like to meet you for dinner so she can get to know you better, and Ralph Lauren has invited you to raid the store. He’d like you to wear him exclusively while you are in town.”

  “What?” Alicia gasped. “Ralph is mine!”

  “Ready to go?” Stella asked Claire. “The costume department is expecting you. They need your sizes.”

  Claire looked at Massie and Alicia with an ehmagawd-this-is-all-happening-so-fast expression. But the girls quickly turned away. “Can I call my mom?”

  “From wardrobe.” Stella put her arm around her and whisked her out of the office as though she were a pop star.

  Massie watched Claire go, knowing for the first time in her life what it felt like to be the loser.

  CURRENT STATE OF THE UNION

  INOUT

  Westchester West Coast

  Dial O for Over Dial L for Loser

  Claire Massie

  GELDING STUDIOS