LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

little bonsai tree that had been a gift from Carmen’s best friend, Drew. “Kate wasn’t born into this world the way you were,” she said. “She doesn’t understand all the rules. She doesn’t know that illusion is sometimes more important than truth.”

      “You’re getting really metaphysical on me,” Carmen said. “It’s too early in the morning for that.”

      Laurel laughed. “It’s eleven a.m. That’s not early. But anyway, I think you should apologize to Kate. Sincerely. I’m telling you this as a friend. Trevor is very interested in what’s up with you two. Your developing friendship was giving the show its heart—he’d mapped out the rest of the season with you two as besties. So, if you can’t fix it, I’m sure that Trevor will try to orchestrate some knock-down, drag-out fight, preferably on camera.”

      “In a pool filled with Jell-O,” Carmen said. Laurel snorted, and Carmen put her head in her hands. “It’s so complicated,” she said.

      “Look,” Laurel said. “You need to get this thing taken care of quickly. If Trevor gets wind of a love triangle, then he’s going to want to run with it. And it’s probably not going to paint you in the best light. Kate is the one wronged here, and she’s the resident nice girl.”

      Carmen was about to ask Laurel if Kate was the nice girl, what did that make her … when she heard Alexis call, “Where is my actress? My Julia?”

      “Whoops, gotta go,” Carmen said, rushing off. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

      Laurel smiled. “Good luck,” she said.

      Once Carmen and Alexis had filmed their hellos for the PopTV cameras as if they hadn’t just spent an hour in the same room while it was being set up, the costume designer proceeded to stuff Carmen inside a gown made from a strange material that Carmen had never seen before. (The dress reminded her of a golden, tight-fitting Hefty bag, with threads of silver running through it.) Carmen was still thinking about what Laurel said. Maybe it wasn’t enough to just text Kate things like HEY GIRL, WHAT HAPPENED TO U? and SHOULD WE TALK? If she wanted to mend what was broken, she was going to have to try harder and make an honest attempt at apology (even if, in her heart of hearts, she still didn’t think she’d done anything wrong).

      Carmen gazed unseeingly at the abstract painting on the wall as Alexis manhandled her, tightening laces and stays. She should probably try to be more open and honest in general, she thought.

      Yes, openness and honesty. She would make this resolution now, months before the new year. Be more honest. Eat more vegetables. Read more books and fewer blogs. There. Now she could sleep in extra late on New Year’s Day.

      Of course, there had to be limits to her honesty. For instance, she didn’t have any plans to stop fake-dating Luke yet. For one thing, their “relationship” was keeping their names in the tabloids, and for another, she liked hanging out with him.

      “Ow,” she yelped, as Alexis stabbed her in the ribs with a pin.

      “Sorry,” Alexis said insincerely. “I’ve got to get this belt tighter.”

      “Tighter?” Carmen said breathlessly, as Alexis gave another tug on the dress’s shining gold laces. “I feel like a sausage.”

      “Ha! The golden wiener,” said a voice, and Carmen looked up to see Fawn standing in the foyer and smiling behind an oversized pair of Chanel sunglasses.

      “Thanks a lot,” Carmen said.

      Fawn shrugged. “Just telling it like it is. You know that brutal honesty is one of my best qualities.”

      Carmen laughed, which was difficult because Alexis was currently squeezing her inside the dress. “Yes, and shamelessness. I mean, do those Daisy Dukes even cover your butt?”

      Fawn, grinning, ignored this; she was looking at the PopTV cameras. “Didn’t know you had your fitting today,” she said. “I just stopped by to say hi.”

      But Fawn knew perfectly well that Carmen was filming her fitting today; they’d talked about it on their hike the day before. And obviously someone had miked her on her way in. Funny how Fawn had developed a habit of casually dropping by whenever cameras were rolling. Not that Carmen minded. It was fun to have her actual friend be a part of her fake reality every once in a while.

      Fawn waltzed into the room, flung her glasses on the couch, and put her feet up on the tiny part of the coffee table that wasn’t covered with costume accessories. “So I have a little information that might be of interest to you,” she said, “concerning one of your friends.”

      Carmen thought first of Kate. Had Fawn heard from her? Then Alexis gave her a sharp poke in the ribs. “Put your shoulders back,” she snapped. “You’re not going to slouch like that on camera, are you? You’re a princess. Also, who is this person and why is she here?”

      Carmen stood up straighter. She should probably be imagining herself as Julia Capsen, post-apocalyptic princess, even as she was being fitted. But she was dying to know what Fawn had to tell her. “Spill it,” she said to Fawn. To Alexis, she said, “She’s my friend. It’s fine.”

      Alexis sniffed. “That means nothing to me. Daisy Dukes here can have five minutes and then I need silence.”

      “So,” Carmen said, turning to Fawn, “tell me.”

      Fawn couldn’t hide her smirk. “That bottle-blond bitch has been convicted of stealing that diamond necklace, and she has to pay back the store. Plus—this is the good part—she has to do like a million years of community service at Lost Paws.”

      Carmen wasn’t sure she heard Fawn right. “Los Paz?” she asked. “The Mexican restaurant on La Brea?”

      Fawn let out a delighted cackle. “No, dummy, Lost Paws. It’s an animal shelter. I just read it on TMZ.”

      “Well, that sounds all right,” Carmen said. “I’d rather walk a stray dog than chop cilantro. I hate cilantro.”

      “Oh no,” Fawn said, shaking her head. “My friend Jeff went there once, and he calls it Lost Cause. You won’t find any rescue bichons frises there. No cute little teacup poodles, unless they’re missing an eye and have a thing for eating your underwear. They take dogs that bite, cats that pee on your pillow … It’s like San Quentin for pets.” Fawn could hardly contain her glee. “It’s soooo good, right?”

      “Wow,” Carmen said, as Alexis grappled her out of the golden dress and tossed a pair of leggings at her. “I mean, it’s not like I’m her biggest fan, but poor Madison.”

      “Poor Madison nothing,” Fawn said. “That girl got off easy. She may have to spend the next couple months accessorizing around a pooper-scooper, but she committed a crime—a serious one—and she isn’t getting any time.”

      Carmen looked pointedly at her friend as she struggled to pull the leggings over her calves. What was all this material they were using—had space engineers woven the fabric? “May I remind you that you might have gotten something similar, had not a certain person stepped in and taken the blame?”

      Fawn’s eyes widened and she turned briefly toward the PopTV camera before stopping herself. “Oh, please. That tank top was worth less than two hundred bucks. I would have gotten a slap on the wrist.”

      Oops, Carmen thought, remembering the camera. Well, no going back now. “But you didn’t have to get that slap,” she pointed out. “I got it instead.” If Trevor decided to use this footage, then the world would know that Carmen wasn’t a shoplifter after all. Maybe her dad would finally stop being mad at her for taking the blame for Fawn.

      “Suck in your stomach,” Alexis hissed, and Carmen immediately complied.

      Fawn sighed. She was clearly annoyed that Carmen had brought the matter up on camera, but was trying not to show it. “I know, and you’re an absolute angel. Do you have any Zone bars around here? I’m starving.”

      Carmen couldn’t help but

Скачать книгу