LITMIR.BIZ

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girls were watching episode after episode of L.A. Candy in their family room. Lacie and Nora had TiVo’d all of season one so far, and were now making Jane sit through them as they grilled her about various details.

      “Yeah, that’s Paolo,” Jane said, wishing she didn’t have to relive that particular date. They’d had zero chemistry—and to make things worse, she had partied too much at Madison’s the night before and had thrown up on the way home. “No, no second date.”

      “See, I told you,” Lacie said triumphantly to Nora.

      “Yeah, well, she’s gone on second dates with dorks before,” Nora shot back. “Remember that guy she went to the Homecoming dance with? And what’s-his-name from the track team, Rob, Bob?” She shook with laughter, practically rolling off the couch.

      Great, Jane thought. Why do little sisters have to remember everything?

      “How come your new boyfriend isn’t on the show?” Nora asked. “Braden?”

      Jane managed to fudge an explanation about Braden being too busy (and to add that Braden was not her new boyfriend) because she didn’t feel like explaining that Braden had steadfastly refused to sign a release to be filmed. And as far as Trevor was concerned, if someone couldn’t be filmed, that person didn’t exist. Sometimes Jane would mention Braden while filming, but they would never use any of that footage.

      On the floor nearby was the carnage from this morning’s present-opening frenzy: wads of brightly colored wrapping paper, ribbons and bows, empty boxes, and stray gifts. Across the room, the eight-foot-tall tree looked as beautiful and Christmassy as always, decorated with family ornaments. She especially loved seeing the angel she’d made in second grade, out of white felt and cotton balls, hanging in its coveted spot on a high-up branch.

      Still…Christmas felt different this year. Lacie and Nora had been their usual giddy selves this morning, ripping open presents and screaming about their new cell phones, iPods, Sephora gift certificates, and the rest of it. Their parents had tried to put on their best happy faces—her mother oohing and aahing over the diamond earrings from her father, her father modeling the goofy apron from Nora that said, DANGER: DAD GRILLING ON BARBECUE. But Jane had caught the two of them sneaking glances at her, looking stressed and worried. And disappointed. That was the hardest part, the disappointment. Jane had let her parents down by cheating on her boyfriend and causing a national media scandal.

      Lacie hit Fast-forward, then Play. Gaby appeared on the screen, answering phones at Ruby Slipper, the PR firm where she worked.

      “Okay, so what about your friend Gaby?” Lacie said. “She seems nice, but is she really that dumb?”

      “Like that episode where she microwaved her True Religion jeans because the dryer was broken? Did the show tell her to do that, to make people laugh?” Nora asked.

      “Gaby’s really sweet,” Jane said vaguely. “Hey, you guys wanna watch a movie or something?”

      “Movie?” Lacie burst out. “Are you crazy? We have more episodes to watch! And we have soooo many questions to ask you!”

      “Alanah and Ainsley might come over later, ’cause they wanna talk to you about the show,” Nora added. She picked a piece of popcorn out of her purple-tinted braces. “Oh, and they want Jesse Edwards’s autograph. You can get that for them, right?”

      Lacie craned her head to glare at her little sister, her hazel eyes blazing. “Nora! Are you slow or what?”

      “Lacie, be nice!”

      Jane glanced up and saw her mother standing in the doorway. Maryanne Roberts frowned sternly at Lacie, who pulled her long blond hair over her face and mumbled, “Sorry,” under her breath.

      Maryanne was wearing a salmon-colored silk robe, Jane’s Christmas present to her, as well as a pair of fuzzy pink slippers from Lacie. She set a tray of steaming mugs on the coffee table. “Hot chocolate,” she announced to her daughters. “What are you watching?”

      “L.A. Candy, what else?” Nora replied. She pointed to the screen. “Hey! Ha! That’s when Jane gets drunk at that club and flirts with that Australian guy!”

      “Austrian,” Lacie corrected her.

      “I did not get drunk!” Jane scoffed. Did Nora seriously have to say that in front of their mom?

      “Okay, girls, enough,” Maryanne snapped. “Jane could probably use a break from all this stuff. Why don’t we watch one of the twenty thousand DVDs Santa brought you for Christmas?”

      “Santa, right.” Nora rolled her golden brown eyes.

      “Good idea,” Jane said quickly. “I’m gonna change into my jammies first. Back in a sec.”

      Her mom was right—she did need a break from all this stuff. Five days in Cabo hadn’t done the trick, after all. Seeing her family was a lot harder than she thought it would be. Not to mention seeing them watch the show.

      She hadn’t had much time to herself since driving up to Santa Barbara in the middle of the night two nights ago. Her parents had been so happy and relieved to see her, but they had a lot of questions: Was she okay? Where did she disappear to? Had any reporters followed her from L.A.? Later, after dinner (their family had a tradition of making a Swedish feast together on Christmas Eve, because her mom was half Swedish), her dad had called her aside and asked her if she was having second thoughts about being on the show. Jane hadn’t had a good answer. All she’d managed was, “I don’t know, Dad. Maybe?”

      Which was the truth.

      The second Jane got to her bedroom, she closed the door and flopped down on the bed, which she’d forgotten to make this morning. The breeze through the open window was pleasantly cool and carried with it the sounds of the surf outside. Her cell was on her nightstand, with a full mailbox. She used to love her phone; now she hated it. Over the last couple of days, she’d somehow managed to listen to all thirty-one messages that had accumulated during her time in Cabo, as well as a few more that she had received since then. They were basically variations on the same theme: her parents, Trevor, Fiona, Scar, and others asking her where she was and if she was okay and could she please call them immediately? There had been some messages from Diego among the bunch, saying he was so, so, so sorry that he hadn’t known about the photos of Jane and Braden being leaked to the magazine until it was too late. D worked as Veronica Bliss’s assistant at Gossip, and from the sound of it, she wasn’t a very nice boss. Or, Jane could now attest, a very nice person.

      Reporters had called, too, offering her the chance to tell her side of the story. Yeah, right. Likely they just wanted to trick her into saying too much about Jesse and/ or Braden, then twisting her words and printing more crazy headlines.

      In addition to her daily “where/how are you” messages, Scar left a few confusing ones about Madison. Jane remembered the note Scar had left at their apartment, saying, I have to talk to you about Madison ASAP. What was that about, anyway? Jane figured she would find out soon enough. She planned to return to L.A. the day after tomorrow. Maybe Scar would be back from Aspen by then, and they could talk in person? They were long overdue for a heart-to-heart.

      There were no messages from Jesse. Or Braden. None. Jane had checked and double-checked, and bitten back her disappointment each time. Why hadn’t they tried to contact her? On the other hand, why was she so surprised?

      She wasn’t sure how she felt about either guy these days. She missed Jesse, missed the way things were before everything fell apart. But she couldn’t deny that she was also attracted to Braden.

      Not that she was in a position to choose one or the other. Jesse was likely never going to speak to her again. And Braden’s silence spoke volumes. He was a low-key person who valued his privacy. Why would he want to be friends with—much less date—a publicity magnet like her, especially after what had happened?

      Jane glared at her phone. She knew she was being kinda (well,

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