Dial L for Loser Page 7

  “What?” Massie shrieked. “Was that really Rupert? How do you know?”

  “He said to call your old phone and he’ll answer.”

  “Ehmagawd.” Kristen buried her face in her hands. “How ahb-vious is that?”

  Massie’s head began to throb. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Was all this free time making her soft?

  She pulled out her Razr and flipped it open. Her gold charm bracelet jiggled as she began dialing her old number.

  Once it rang, she dove onto her bed and hit speaker.

  “Hullo, Cleh?”

  “Ehmagawd!” Massie mouthed as she slapped her mattress.

  “Uh, yeah… I mean, I’m here.… I mean, yes… this is Claire.” She fanned her cheeks.

  “As I wuz saying, I’m looking for the gul who owns this phone, and yo name was second in her address book so—”

  “Rupert? It’s me, Massie. The owner.” She grabbed a fistful of goose down and squeezed.

  “Wonderful. This is Rupert Mann. And I am looking to do something totally new with this pick-cha.”

  “Uh-huh.” Massie did her best to sound calm despite the fact that her friends were all on their backs, kicking their legs in the air. She felt like she was watching a synchronized swimming show on mute.

  “I want to fly you and your friends out to L.A. next week on the studio’s private jet so you can audition.”

  “Private jet!” Kristen’s blue eyes were wide. “PRIVATE JET!”

  “L.A.!” Alicia grabbed her and they hugged and bounced until Kristen fell off the bed and face-planted on Massie’s floor.

  “Is that them?” he asked politely.

  “Um, yeah.” Massie smacked her hand down on the bed, urging them to stay cool. “Sorry, Rupert, what were you saying?”

  “The auditions ah on Monday. Then it’s a three-week shoot in L.A. Is that going to be a problem with school?”

  “Um, no. No problem at all. We’ll get out of school for this.” She kicked her bare feet in the air.

  Everyone giggled.

  “Yes, but fo three weeks?”

  “Whatever it takes.” Massie bit her bottom lip. “Our principal gives us time off when we get acting jobs.”

  Alicia gave her a thumbs-up.

  “Oh.” Rupert sounded disappointed. “So you have experience?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Because I am after an unknown, so—”

  “I mean, you don’t count one day of extra work, do you?”

  “Hadly.” He chuckled.

  “Then we’re good.”

  The girls applauded silently.

  “Oh, and one lawst thing—”

  “Yup?”

  “Dawn’t bring the redhead.”

  Dylan gasped.

  Massie looked at her and shrugged. “Why not?”

  “She’s the reason Hadley quit the pick-cha, and I dawn’t need any bad en-a-gy on my set.”

  “It was an accident!” Dylan burst into tears, then grabbed an unopened basket of sugar cookies and locked herself in the bathroom.

  “Who was that?” Rupert asked.

  “The redhead,” Massie murmured.

  “Tragic. How ’bout I give yo parents a buzz tomorrow and we’ll fuhm up the travel?”

  “Sounds good.” Massie’s knees were shaking. “You have the number.”

  “Actually, I don’t.”

  “Oh.” Massie giggled, then gave him her home number.

  “See you in a few days, then.” Rupert sounded like he was smiling.

  “See you in a few days.” Massie snapped her phone shut, then tossed it on her bed. “Ehmagawd! We’re going to be movie stars.”

  “Speak for yourself!” Dylan wailed from the bathroom.

  But the girls were too excited to comfort Dylan. They jumped up on the bed and screamed and hugged and bounced while Bean got tossed about like a kernel in an air popper.

  “Wait.” Massie stopped suddenly. “You realize only one of us is going to get the part.”

  “Point,” Alicia panted.

  And just like that, everyone stopped hugging.

  THE BLOCK ESTATE

  TENNIS COURT

  Saturday, March 14th

  11:18 A.M.

  Claire shielded her eyes from the sun when she stepped into the Blocks’ yard, almost spilling the two glasses of lemonade she was balancing on a silver tray. It was August-bright, and the temperature was hovering around seventy degrees. Everything smelled like a mix of fresh-cut grass and ice water. It was turn-over-a-new-leaf weather. It was first-love weather. It was I-feel-happy-for-no-reason weather. Still, Claire’s cuticles were picked raw.

  “Stop worrying.” Massie took the tray from her, set it on the patio table, then wiped the lenses of her Oliver Peoples aviators. “March is never this warm. It’s a sign.” She slid on her glasses and picked up the tray.

  “What kind of sign?”

  “A sign we were meant to be in Hollywood.” She tilted her face toward the bright sun. “It’s like this all the time there.” Massie rolled up the sleeves of the gray jersey dress she’d haphazardly thrown over a pair of skinny jeans. Claire was still in her Powerpuff Girls pj’s from the night before.

  “What if our parents say no?” Claire couldn’t imagine her mom and dad letting her jet off to California when Cam’s house—which was around the corner—had been declared off-limits.

  “That’s why we’re going to their tennis game.” Massie stopped walking and lowered her voice.

  For a few seconds, the only sounds were birds and the pop… pop… pop of the ball getting whacked from one side of the court to the other.

  Massie pulled off her glasses. “Remember, this is all about kissing massive amounts of butt.”

  Claire nodded once for “got it.”

  “Don’t let them know we want something. They have to think we’re being helpful and sweet because we’re helpful and sweet. Then when Rupert calls, they’ll flash back to our ahdorable helpfulness and they’ll say yes.”

  “’Kay.”

  “Now, let’s take a moment and pray for our auditions.”

  Massie lowered her head.

  “Should we pray Alicia and Kristen get permission too?” Claire asked.

  “Probably not.”

  They closed their eyes.

  “Switch!” William Block hollered. He wiped his head with a towel as he and Kendra changed sides with Judi and Jay Lyons. He was in pretty good shape for a dad. Muscular legs, toned arms, and a slight belly. Nothing like Jay, who was panting and sweating as if he’d been chasing a Ben and Jerry’s delivery truck.

  “Now!” Massie whispered.

  “Lemonade!” Claire practically sang the word. “Fresh lemonade here.”

  “Come and get it!”

  Todd jogged over to the gate. “Awesome!” He crammed a ball into the pocket of his shorts and reached for an icy glass.

  “It’s not for you.” Claire pulled the tray away. “It’s for Mom and Dad.”

  “No way,” Todd whined. “I got here first. I’m working this game.”

  “Forget it.” Massie pushed past him. “We have serious ass-kissing to do.”

  “I ran off to New York, remember?” He flipped the collar on his polo shirt. “I’m looking at a year with no video games, maybe two.”

  “Lemonade!” Massie shouted.

  “Balls!” Todd shouted louder.

  “LEMONADE!” Claire yelled.

  “BALLS!”

  “Okay, okay.” William waved his white towel as a show of surrender. “Let’s take five.”

  “Thank heavens,” Judi huffed. Her chestnut-brown bangs were matted to her forehead. “I didn’t realize I was in such bad shape.”

  “I’m telling you, dear.” Kendra smoothed her pleated skirt. “Pilates can fix all that.” She poked Judi’s back fat with the head of her racket.

  Judi’s smile faded.

  “You are a couple of angels.” Jay lifted a glass off Claire’s tray and
finished it in one gulp. “Ahhhhhhh.”

  “There’s more in the house if you want us to get it.” Massie tilted her head and smiled.

  “Or we can make sandwiches,” Claire offered. “I bet you’re hungry.”

  “Yeah, sandwiches,” Todd urged the parents. “Wouldn’t that be great, Dad?”

  Claire shot him a dirty look.

  “It would, son.” Jay put his arm around Todd. “I’ll take turkey on a roll with cheese, mayo, lettuce, and a pickle on the side.”

  “Sounds good.” William licked his lips. “But hold the mayo on mine, add mustard, and throw in an extra pickle.”

  Kendra twisted the diamond stud in her ear. “I’ll have mine on a whole-wheat wrap. Mustard only.”

  “I’ll have the same as Kendra.” Judi grinned.

  “And I’ll have what Dad is having.” Todd grinned. “With chips.”

  “Chips sound great, son.” Jay mussed his hair. “Make that two chips.”

  “Uh,” Massie dug her nails into Claire’s wrist. “Can I speak to you for a minute?”

  “Sure.” Claire held up a finger as Massie dragged her onto the lawn. “We’ll be back in one minute to take your drink orders.”

  “Are you insane?” Massie whisper-shouted once they were alone.

  “What are you so mad about?” Claire shook her wrist free. “They’re loving us right now.”

  “They were loving us with the lemonade. Why did you have to get all Subway on them?”

  “I thought that’s what you wanted!”

  “Uh, I don’t remember saying, ‘Hey, let’s spend the day making sandwiches for your family.’”

  “Your parents want them too!” Claire heard her voice begin to shake.

  “Well, then, I hope you know how to cook.” Massie marched over to the court. She stopped a few feet short of the gate, then exhaled slowly. Her next inhalation brought forth a pleasant flight-attendant smile that practically connected the corners of her mouth to the bottom of her sunglasses. “We’ll be right back with lunch,” she cooed.

  Claire spent the next half hour slicing, spreading, and Saraning while Massie filed her toenails.

  “All done.” Claire screwed the top on the jar of mayo and wiped down the cutting board. She wrapped her arms around all five sandwiches and both bags of chips. “Let’s go.”

  “Wait!” Massie flip-flopped into the pantry and pulled out a picnic basket. “Put them in here. Presentation is everything.”

  Claire unloaded the sandwiches, then reached for the handle.

  “That’s okay.” Massie’s expression was kind, almost caring. “You made them; the least I can do is carry them outside.”

  “Maybe we should both carry them.” Claire could hear her heart beating inside her chest. “That way they’ll know they came from both of us.”

  “Puh-lease.” Massie rolled her eyes and pushed through the side door, swinging the goods. “You’ve done so much already. Relax.”

  During their silent walk back to the courts, Claire opened and closed her fists, trying to release the anger that was welling up in her fingertips. Was this her fault for being such a pushover? Or Massie’s for being so pushy?

  “Your lunch is here!” Massie unpacked the basket on the bench by the net.

  No one hesitated to dig in.

  “These are great, love.” Kendra dabbed the corner of her lip with a cloth napkin.

  “Thanks, Mom.” Massie beamed.

  “You just sounded British,” William teased.

  Claire and Massie exchanged a glance.

  “I did, didn’t I?” Kendra covered her mouth while she chewed.

  “Speaking of British…” Judi swallowed. “Some strange British man called the house this morning.”

  “He called us too!” Kendra crossed her toned legs.

  “What did you do?” Massie asked. “Did you talk to him?”

  “I hope you hung up.” William balled his Saran wrap and tossed it in the trash. “I am so incredibly sick of those tele-marketers.”

  “Of course I did.”

  “Good for you.” Jay batted the crumbs out of his beard. “If I want something, I’ll buy it myself, thank you.”

  “I agree.” Judi rested her arm on her husband’s shoulder.

  “Wait, Mom.” Claire’s armpits started to sweat. “You hung up?”

  “I did.” Judi nodded, obviously proud of her decision.

  Massie crossed her leg and began shaking her foot. “Uh, I think we may know who that was.”

  “Yeah, we would have told you but we didn’t think he’d call so early,” Claire added.

  The parents stared, all looking very concerned, waiting for them to continue.

  “His name is Rupert Mann and he’s a big Hollywood director,” Massie began.

  “Wait, I thought he was British.” William rubbed his sunburned head.

  “He is, Dad, but he works in Hollywood.”

  “Ohhh, silly me.” He knocked his bald spot. “Sorry. Go on.”

  Massie continued, “So anyway, he wants us to audition for his new movie and—”

  “And we’re flying to Los Angeles first thing Monday morning on the studio’s private jet, right?” Judi snickered.

  “We are?” Todd jumped up and down. Three fluorescent yellow balls fell out of his pocket and rolled onto the court.

  “Uh, close.” Claire looked at Massie, wondering how mothers always managed to guess right.

  “No, not kind of.” Kendra grinned. “Definitely.”

  “Huh?” The bottoms of Claire’s feet tingled. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean we spoke to Rupert this morning,” Kendra continued. “We told him it was okay.”

  “Wait,” Massie asked, confused. “You said yes?”

  Judi squealed with delight. “Surprise!”

  “Ehmagawd!” Massie and Claire yelled, then grabbed each other’s shoulders and began jumping.

  “On two conditions.” Kendra’s voice grew stern.

  They immediately stopped moving, their smiles fading fast.

  “What?” Massie put a hand on her hip.

  “Rupert offered to hire an on-set tutor for whoever gets the part. And if that person gets a single grade below an A, she is off the movie.”

  “But that’s not—”

  “Don’t forget, you have been expelled.” Kendra wagged an index finger in her daughter’s face. “This tutor will help you keep up with your old classmates. She might even save you from having to repeat the seventh grade.”

  “What about the person who doesn’t get the part?” Claire yanked a hangnail off her thumb, then clenched her fist against the pain.

  “Rupert will send a tutor for the girls who don’t get the part too—a consolation prize, as he put it.” Judi lifted her thin eyebrows as if to say, Can you believe how lucky we got?

  “Some prize,” Massie said under her breath.

  “This is awesome!” Claire clapped her hands. “Now I’ll only have to spend one year at ADD instead of two.”

  Massie rolled her eyes, then turned to her mother. “What was the second condition?”

  “Your mother and I get to chaperone,” Judi gushed.

  “So we can go?” Massie widened her amber eyes.

  “We talked about it and agreed that this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,” William said.

  “You too?” Claire asked her father.

  Jay nodded.

  Claire threw her arms around her father’s neck.

  “Besides, if OCD doesn’t let you back in, you’ll need the work,” he added.

  “But remember, nothing below an A,” William reminded them.

  “Deal.” Massie shook her father’s hand. After a quick moment, her expression changed from one of elation to one of suspicion. She pulled off her sunglasses and glared at her parents. “So the lemonade and the sandwiches—”

  “Not necessary.” William chuckled.

  “Delicious.” Jay mussed Claire’s hair. “But
not necessary.”

  “Dad, can I go too?” Todd hopped into his father’s lap and kissed his cheek.

  “Yup.”

  “Yeahhhhhh!” Todd jumped down and ran around the court.

  “Dad!” Claire was about to explain that Todd would embarrass her and totally ruin her chances of getting any part, but saw the playful flicker behind her father’s eyes and knew she wouldn’t have to.

  “I’m going to Hollywood. I’m going to Hollywood,” Todd sang.

  “In 2010!” Jay shouted. “When you’re not grounded.”

  Todd stopped running, then slowly began gathering tennis balls. One by one, he whipped them over the fence.

  “I quit!” he shouted, and took off for the guesthouse.

  “I’d ask if anyone wants to play one last game, but we’re out of balls.” William stood.

  “That’s okay.” Kendra zipped a black padded cover around her tennis racket. “We have to start packing. We leave in less than two days.”

  “Claire, come up to my room and we’ll call Alicia and Kristen,” Massie suggested.

  “’Kay,” Claire said. But all she really wanted to do was hop on her bike and ride to Cam’s house. They could sit on the hood of his brother’s Mustang and talk about how much they were going to miss each other while Claire sniffed his neck. If her allowance hadn’t been suspended, she would have bought a bottle of Drakkar Noir and sprayed it on her pillow, just so she could spend all night breathing the manly blend of lavender, citrus, spicy berries, and sandalwood that was Cam Fisher.

  “You know, if I get this part, I won’t see Cam for three more weeks.” She stomped up the steps behind Massie. “That will make it twenty-nine days total. What if he meets someone else?”

  “Puh-lease. You have nothing to worry about.” Massie placed her hand on Claire’s shoulder. “Cam ahdores you.”

  Claire’s insides flooded with warmth while she considered this.

  “And besides.” Massie continued up the stairs. “You won’t get the part.”

  THE BLOCK ESTATE

  GUESTHOUSE—CLAIRE’S BEDROOM

  Sunday, March 15th

  10:27 P.M.

  Claire lay in bed outlining the glittery stars on her comforter with her throbbing index finger. How could she go to Hollywood with swollen, ripped-up cuticles? Why not tattoo NERVOUS WRECK across her forehead instead? It would be a lot less hideous.