Dial L for Loser Read online

  “Then you won’t mind if Conner takes that.” He placed his warm hand on hers. Thin bolts of electricity shot up her arm as he slid the phone out from under her clammy palm and dropped it in the back pocket of his CF jeans. “You have been checking that thing all night. And Conner is jealous.”

  Claire giggled. He couldn’t possibly mean that, could he?

  “We’re here!” Abby popped open her green ring and pulled out a mint. “Want one?” she offered.

  “No thanks.” Claire gripped her stomach when she saw the cluster of paparazzi surrounding the limo. “Are they here for you?”

  “For us!” Abby grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of the limo the instant the driver opened their door.

  Conner squeezed between them so he looked like the luckiest guy in Hollywood. Then he stuck an unlit cigarette in the side of his mouth.

  Dozens of cameras clicked and flashed until Claire was convinced she’d be deaf and blind forever.

  “Over here!” someone barked and pointed to the wide lens of his camera.

  “Look here, please, Miss Lyons.”

  Claire had no idea who that was or how they knew her name.

  “Abby, over here.”

  “Conner!”

  “Claire! Conner! Abby! Over here!”

  Claire tried to look at the right place and smile at the right time but couldn’t fight the feeling that she was trapped inside a tornado, spinning and reeling out of control.

  “You thinking what I’m thinking?” Abby murmured.

  “Huh?” Claire asked, through her toothy smile.

  “Yeah.” Conner nodded. “Hold on, babygirls.”

  He tightened his grip so that the girls were mashed up against either side of his hard torso. In one swift move he thrust the girls onto the benchlike backseat of the limo. The paparazzi moved closer toward the car, flashing and clicking and calling their names.

  “Incoming!” Conner shouted as he dove on top of the girls.

  The driver slammed the door behind them and tore down La Cienega Boulevard, ignoring the photographers who were running alongside the car, begging them to stop.

  “You can get off us now.” Abby tickled Conner’s ribs until he jumped back.

  Claire sat up and smoothed her hair. “That was crazy.”

  “Wait until the movie comes out.” Abby laughed.

  Claire looked at the drivers in the cars beside them, wondering if one day they would know who she was and, more important, if she wanted them to. But that was too much to think about now. Her brain throbbed and her stomach was grumbling.

  “Who wants In-N-Out burgers?” Conner licked his puffy lips.

  “Only if you don’t tell Rupert.” Abby pinched her flat stomach.

  “What’s In-N-Out?” Claire asked.

  Conner pulled off his blazer. Claire could see his bumpy ab muscles through his tight white tee. “Only the best burgers in the country.”

  “Yes!” She pulled off her boots and kicked up her feet.

  “May I?” Conner pulled off Claire’s sweaty gray J. Crew socks and tossed them out the sunroof. Then he began rubbing the soles of her feet with gentle determination. She could feel it all the way to the tips of her ears.

  “Don’t you two look cozy,” Abby purred.

  But Claire was too sleepy to answer. She just sat back and enjoyed getting her feet rubbed by “the teen dream.” For the first time all day, cheating boyfriends and angry girlfriends were the furthest things from her mind.

  LE BACCARAT HOTEL

  LOBBY

  Wednesday, March 18th

  10:16 P.M.

  Claire stepped out of the limo carrying her cowboy boots.

  “Don’t forget this, babygirl.” Conner’s tanned arm appeared through the open window swinging her phone.

  “Thanks.” She held out her palm and he let go.

  “See you tomorrow!” Abby shouted as the limo continued out the circular driveway.

  “Bye.” Claire giggled. Her cheeks were tight from laughing.

  “Rough night?” asked the doorman as she shuffled past him in her bare feet.

  “No, but it will be.” She thought of Massie and Alicia, who were probably in bed sharpening their nails so they could tear her apart for not calling them back.

  The elevator opened before Claire pushed the button. As the doors closed, she turned on her phone. It lit up and vibrated. Five messages. Finally, when she reached the twenty-fifth floor, she took a deep breath and pressed play.

  “Hey, Claire, it’s me, Layne. So I have the full report and you’re never gonna believe—

  “Hey, sorry, I dropped the phone in a bowl of green Jell-O—Ew, Meena, stop that!… Anyway, the big story of the night is Derrington. He showed up wearing green shorts and no shirt. He wrote, ‘I’m With Massie,’ across his chest in purple Sharpie. The dean kicked him out as soon as he got here because he refused to cover up and— No WAY!… I love Shakira.… I have to dance to this one.… I’ll call you right back.”

  “Noooo!” Claire punched her phone. If it hadn’t been a gift, she would have hurled it against the wall.

  “Me again, I just had a Cam sighting. And you’ll never guess who he’s with. Give up? Okay, I’ll tell you. It’s Todd. Your brother, who is covered in tattoos, by the way.”

  Claire jumped up and down, ignoring the couple a few feet away struggling with their key card.

  “Word is, he had to bring a date so he asked your bro. The coach couldn’t say no cuz of discrimination so they’re dancing right now to Bubba Sparxxx. ’Kay, I gotta go practice. The dance contest is coming up and I so want that Chili’s gift certificate. Wish me luck.”

  “Hey, superstar, it’s me, Cam. And I wanted you to know I’m breaking up with you so I can start hanging out with Todd. He’s a much better dancer.”

  Todd was giggling in the background while Cam was trying to hang up. She played his message four more times, then called her mother and told her she’d gotten home safely.

  She put the key in the door, ready to face Massie and Alicia and whatever it was they had in store for her. She’d had the perfect night, and no matter how hard they tried, they would never be able to take that away from her.

  The suite was dark and silent. And the bedroom doors were closed.

  Just to be safe, Claire slept on the satin couch and tiptoed out the next morning before they woke up.

  LE BACCARAT HOTEL

  CRYSTAL SLIPPER DINING ROOM

  Monday, March 23rd

  5:00 A.M.

  Massie dropped a crispy strip of bacon inside her purple Coach dog carrier when the waiters weren’t looking. Bean sniffed it with her wet black nose, then gobbled it up.

  “Make sure you don’t get any on your outfit,” she told her pug-slash-cohost for the day. Bean’s pink puppy Uggs and green Polo minidress were sure to be a hit.

  “Merri-Lee is going to love this idea!” Alicia pinched off a piece of her blueberry muffin.

  “Ah-greed.”

  Ever since their disastrous first show, the girls had stayed up late, rehearsing and brainstorming new material. And it was paying off. So what if Hal thought they needed more celebrity interviews? What did he know? If he had any talent at all, he’d be in front of the camera, not behind it.

  “Great news, dear!” Kendra called from the other side of the hotel’s elegant dining room. Judi Lyons was with her, dressed in high-waisted capri pants and a rose-colored sweater set.

  Massie pushed her sugar-free hot chocolate aside. “What are they doing up?”

  “Morning, sunshine.” Kendra air-kissed her daughter’s cheek. “We just got off a conference call with Emma, Rupert’s darling assistant.” She slid a wing chair over from a neighboring table and placed it between Massie and Alicia. Judi did the same.

  Massie leaned forward. “What’d she say?”

  “You and Alicia can share Claire’s tutor.” Kendra dangled a cup in the air. A waiter rushed over and filled it with coffee.

&n
bsp; “And Claire doesn’t mind one bit,” Judi gushed.

  Massie kicked Alicia under the table. Alicia kicked her back.

  “You start tonight.” Kendra tore open a packet of Splenda and dumped it in her coffee. “Thank heavens. I am so worried about you falling behind. But let’s not think about that now.”

  Massie pushed her toast aside. Repeating the seventh grade was not an option. If she had to sit through another year of integers and fractions, she would tear out her hair extensions, wrap them around her neck, and hang herself from the chandelier.

  Yap-yap-yap…

  Yap-yap-yap…

  “No barking,” Kendra scolded her daughter’s Coach bag.

  “It’s my phone.” Massie flipped over her Razr. “Hello?”

  “Sweetie, it’s Calgary.”

  “Oh, hey, Calgary.”

  Alicia jumped up, forced her tiny butt onto Massie’s chair, and pressed her ear against the phone.

  “Listen, honey,” she whispered. “There’s been talk of replacing you.”

  Alicia grabbed Massie’s wrist.

  “What? Why?”

  “You’re not getting the goods,” Calgary explained. “Claire is the only celeb you got us. Love the girl to death, but let’s face it: She’s not A-list.”

  Massie could have listened to her say those last three words all day.

  “We need Abby and Conner and Rupert,” Calgary insisted. “No more of your parking-lot tours, craft-service-table exposés, or searches for the ‘best boy.’ We need real celebrity dirt or… let’s just say you have until Wednesday to turn the show around.”

  “What about—” Massie was about to ask Calgary her opinion on Bean cohosting but stopped herself. She hung up her phone and handed the Coach dog carrier to her mother.

  “What’s this?” Kendra asked.

  Massie stood up from the table. “Change of plans.”

  She grabbed Alicia’s arm and pulled her through the dining room.

  “Ouch, let go,” Alicia giggle-whined. “What’s the rush?”

  Dial L for Last Chance. Dial F for Fired. Dial WNBATSOFIPAACWBMFTU for We’ll Never Be Able to Show Our Faces in Public Again and Claire Will Be More Famous Than Us.

  All of those would have been appropriate answers. But Massie said nothing. She had one hour to think of a new show idea. And needed all the time she could get.

  “To the nearest pharmacy, please,” Massie told her driver when they got in the Escalade.

  “What do you need?” Alicia asked. “Are you sick?”

  “No.” Massie sat back and smirked. “But poor Claire is.”

  “Do you think that’s why she’s been sleeping on the couch lately?”

  “Has she been?” Massie buckled her seat belt. “Funny. I didn’t notice.”

  GELDING STUDIOS

  MAKEUP TRAILER A

  Monday, March 23rd

  6:20 A.M.

  “Okay, girls, I’m looking for one-word answers here.” Lynn, the Teen Vogue reporter, flipped a page in her notebook and crossed her legs. “It’s for an online feature we call ‘Favorite Things.’”

  “Ready.” Abby snapped her fingers.

  “Yeah, ready.” Claire pulled a blond piece of hair out of her Silly Putty–colored lipstick, hoping the reporter would have the sense to know that she didn’t normally look like a corpse.

  They were seated in front of the mirror in makeup trailer A, wearing their Lakeview uniforms while Gina sponged and dabbed mounds of base on their faces so they’d look “natural” for the homeroom scene.

  Since Abby was playing Suze, she got to wear blond hair extensions, rosy blush, glitter eyeliner, and tinted lip gloss. Claire’s character, Molly, had dark under-eye circles and sallow skin. The short bangs, however, didn’t need modification. Gina had decided they were perfectly dorky just the way they were.

  “Here we go.” Lynn plucked a pen out of the blond pile of curls on top of her head.

  “Cool trick.” Abby snapped twice.

  “Thanks.” She crossed her legs the other way, then became intensely serious. “Here we go. Favorite hobby.”

  “Photography,” Claire answered.

  “Jewelry design.” Abby wiggled her fingers in front of the mirror so Lynn could see her collection.

  “Did you make those?” she asked, pen at the ready.

  “Mentally, yes. I designed them, then paid some dude to realify them.”

  Lynn scribbled.

  “Next question. Favorite junk food.”

  “Mints.” Abby shook her green ring. The tiny mints jingled.

  Claire smiled to herself. “Gummy bears and worms.”

  “Lie!” Abby snapped once.

  “What?” Claire was taken aback.

  “Red Vines. You love Red Vines. That’s why catering always puts them out on the table. For you!”

  “Point.” Claire borrowed Alicia’s word. “Okay, Red Vines.” She didn’t want to argue in front of the reporter.

  “And finally, the initials of your crush.” Lynn tapped her pen against her teeth. “That’s easy.”

  Claire beamed. “CF.”

  “Me too.” Abby raised her eyebrows in a how-do-you like-me-now-sort of way.

  “Is it the same CF?” Lynn leaned closer. “Is there trouble on the set again?”

  “No trouble here.” Abby put her arm around Claire.

  “Okay, then.” Lynn stood and shook the girls’ hands. “The full interview will be in the June issue of Teen Vogue, but your ‘favorite things’ will be posted on our Web site by the end of the day.”

  As soon as Lynn left the makeup trailer, Abby turned to Claire. “So who’s your CF?”

  “Cam Fisher, my boyfriend.” Claire knit her pencil-enhanced eyebrows. “You know that.”

  “Of course I do. I was just kidding.”

  “Who’s yours?” Claire asked.

  “Cam Fisher.” Abby laughed. “When we wrap, I’m going to fly to Westchester and steal him from you.” She threw her head back and giggled wildly.

  Claire shifted in her seat.

  “I’m kidding.” Abby wiped her eyes.

  “Nooooo.” Gina rushed to her side. “Abby, you smudged!”

  “It was an accistake,” she insisted, then cranked up the volume on Gina’s iPod. “Wooo-hoooo!” The starlet waved her arms and thrust her pelvis to Fall Out Boy’s “A Little Less Sixteen Candles.”

  Claire started bopping in her seat, trying to dance the image of Abby lip-kissing Cam out of her mind—even though she had to have been joking. Right?

  Next thing she knew, Gina was shaking her butt and Abby was smacking it. Riding to school with the Pretty Committee used to be the coolest way to start the day, but not anymore.

  “Awesome! Conner loves Dancing with the Stars.” Conner stepped into the trailer and handed each of the girls a coffee. His black hair was spiked to perfection.

  “What are you doing here?” Abby snapped. “My makeup isn’t done!”

  “I thought I’d brighten your day.” He flipped a Marlboro Red in the air and caught it between his full lips.

  “No smoking in here.” Gina flicked a pink packet of Sweet’n Low.

  “Relax, babygirl.” He slid on a pair of aviators. “Conner doesn’t light them.” He kicked open the trailer door, lifted his sunglasses, and winked at Claire on his way out.

  Her teeth started to chatter. She loved being around Conner and Abby. Not because they were famous or cool or beautiful or rich, but because they were full of quirks and made no attempt to hide them. They reminded her of Layne in that way. And she was grateful to have found them. If she hadn’t, she would have been stuck watching the fun instead of taking part in it. Like she usually was.

  Abby sighed. “I think he likes you.”

  “Who?”

  “Conner!”

  Claire blushed. “Yeah, right!” But she had secretly wondered the same thing herself. He was always flirting with her and making up excuses to be around them. Not that
she’d ever do anything about it. She had lost Cam once and was not about to lose him again. So what if Conner was a gorgeous movie star? That shouldn’t matter. And it didn’t. No matter how much her clammy hands said it did.

  “I’m serious.” Abby turned to Claire.

  Gina lifted the eyeliner pencil away from Abby’s face and waited patiently for her to face forward again.

  “What if he made a move on you?” she asked.

  “Like he ever would.” Claire blushed again.

  “‘Like he ever would,’” Abby repeated. “Let’s just pretend. What would you do?”

  “I’d remind him I have a boyfriend.” Claire bit into a Red Vine.

  Massie threw open the door of the trailer. “Morning!”

  “Morning,” Alicia chirped.

  “Hey!” Claire was happy to see her old friends. Even though they had been distant lately, their familiar faces were comforting.

  But Massie was all business. “We’re going live in five minutes and we want to do the show from—”

  “Get out!” Abby whipped her coffee at the door.

  Claire gasped. The steaming cup missed Massie’s head by a few inches.

  “Ehmagawd!” Alicia squealed.

  “You okay?” Claire raced to her side.

  “Totally,” Massie said, like she dodged burning liquid for a living.

  “No one is allowed to see me without my makeup. No one! Do you know how much a naked face goes for in Us Weekly?”

  “Believe me, Abby, the last thing I want is a shot of your face without makeup.” Massie managed to stay calm, but Claire knew how hard this butt-kissing must be for her.

  “If you want, I can show you where all the extras are,” Claire offered. “There’s this one guy who has been in sixty movies. And he has this story about the time he met—”

  “Puh-lease, Kuh-laire.” Massie rolled her eyes. “No one cares about the extras.”

  “Point.” Alicia lifted her finger.

  “Hey, that’s Claire’s word.” Abby turned around in her chair and gave Alicia the stink-eye.

  “What?” Alicia screeched.

  Claire immediately lowered her head, knowing she would pay for that later.