Between the Lines (Between the Lines #1)

Between the Lines (Between the Lines #1) Page 5

“Excellent, spot on,” Richter says. He rubs his hands together.

Hell, yeah.

Daria shows Emma to the exit after we run another couple of scenes and Richter tells her he’ll be in touch. She nods and thanks him, glancing at me. My relaxed expression gives nothing away, but there’s no doubt in my mind—she’s Lizbeth.

Emma

When I come home from the gym a week after the audition, my father and Chloe are popping a bottle of champagne. “You got the part!” he says as Chloe squeals and offers me a glass. I’ve been chosen to play Lizbeth Bennet in School Pride. The financial details were settled for more than I’ve earned in the past several years combined. Filming will start in mid-August, on location in Austin.

Dazed by the news, the salary, and the thought of working with Reid Alexander for three solid months, I do what any other girl would do. I grab my phone and text my best friend. Emily is at choir practice, but I’m hoping the threat of choir director ire won’t keep her from answering.

Me: I GOT IT

Em: OHMYGOD!!!

Me: I know! Holy SHIT.

Em: I have never been jealous of you before, but OMG REID ALEXANDER!?!!!!

Me: I’ll call you after the champagne celebration and chloe’s dance of glee. UGH.

Em: Ignore her. This is about YOU <3

Me: Will try, idk if ignoring her is possible, you have no idea.

Em: Oh trust me, i have an idea.

“I guess we might not be able to do this forever, huh?” Emily says, glancing around the mall food court, the straw of her smoothie never leaving her mouth. It’s late July. In less than a month, I’ll be departing for Austin to film my first wide-release movie.

“What, go out in public?” I recall the paparazzi-mobbed celeb I’d watched from the hotel restaurant in LA. “I don’t think I’ll be that well-known.”

“Well, we don’t know how famous you’ll be, do we? Don’t forget,” she leans closer and lowers her voice, “you’ll be kissing Reid Alexander, making you the object of loathing and hate mail for half the preteen girls from here to Canada.”

Any time I think of that kiss, I still feel it. What I said about hot guys not being the best kissers? Scratch. That.

“Crap.”

“Totally. Except the kissing Reid Alexander part.” Emily leers, waggling her eyebrows.

“Em,” I shake my head, “you have a one-track mind.”

“Whatev, babe. I’ve tried to warn you regarding the underbelly of the lives of the rich and famous—it isn’t pretty. Drugs, drinking, accidental porn…” She slurps the last of her smoothie.

“Emily, you know I don’t—okay wait, what the hell is accidental porn?”

“You know, the kind where you have no idea your innocently lascivious weekend was filmed through a teeny camera in the ceiling, until it’s too late and people are downloading it off the Internet like, well, online porn.” She swirls a fry through the pool of ketchup we’re sharing.

“Innocently lascivious?” I’m not sure if I should be insulted or jealous of this version of myself that Emily is painting.

“Hey, I’m not judging your sex life here, I’m just saying it like it is.”

“Emily Watson, you know better than anyone that I don’t have a sex life.”

“Hollywood changes things like that. It’s like a giant vortex of hedonism.” Clearly, Emily needs a break from her SAT prep books.

“And you’re the expert on all things Hollywood.”

“Duh. I read the Globe, Sun, Star and of course The National Enquirer. The facts are all there. It’s a seamy little business you’ve gotten yourself into.” Emily has inherited the online form of her mother’s inability to pass a juicy tabloid cover in the grocery line without buying it. On many occasions we’ve grabbed stacks of them on the way to the pool, where we challenge each other to unearth the wackiest story.

“I wish I could take you with me,” I tell her, meaning it. “You keep me sane.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll just have to keep doing it from afar. One of us is obligated to actually attend high school, while the other stars in a movie in which she attends high school. Irony. Gotta love it.”

Chapter 7

REID

No matter how rich or famous you are, you still have to pack when you go somewhere, and packing for a three-month absence is a pain in the ass.

Tadd Wyler is playing my character’s best friend, Charlie. We were introduced at a Grammy’s after-party a couple of years ago and have been friends since then, so this was uber cool news. He’s meeting me on the flight, and production is sending a bodyguard along with us, which is a first. Usually one delivers me to the flight and another meets me when I land. My last film came out two months ago and the recognition factor has gone through the roof since then. You haven’t lived until just standing near a pack of girls makes them cry. Insanity.

Bob the bodyguard arrives right on time, sweeping three months of luggage into his beefy paws and ferrying it out to the waiting limo in two trips. He’s a brick building shaped like a man. I can’t imagine anyone getting past this guy—not that I’m afraid of my fan base, but en masse, they can get a little out of hand. “I’ll be back for the rest of your luggage, and then I’ll wait in the car. We’ll leave in about fifteen minutes, if that’s good with you, Mr. Alexander.”

I need to get over the strangeness of grown men calling me Mr. Alexander. I feel like they can’t be talking to me. “Thanks, man. And call me Reid.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Reid.” He disappears into the dusk as Mom sidles up behind me.

“I’ll miss you.” Her voice is wobbly. She has a drink in her hand, so I don’t know if she’s overcome by emotion or she’s already sloshed. A little of both, perhaps.

“I’ve got a few minutes. Let’s sit.” I take her hand and lead her into the front parlor, sinking onto the sofa with her. She leans into me, still holding my hand, finishing her drink and setting the glass lopsidedly onto a coaster. This must be her third, at least. She doesn’t miss the coaster before that.

“I’ll be back for a weekend or two during filming. You’ll hardly notice I’m gone.” This isn’t quite true. Even if we don’t interact much, Mom and I are aware of each other in the house. I’ll be in Austin, working, playing… I think of Emma and my pulse spikes for a moment. Mom will be here, wandering the house like a ghost. “Don’t you have that breast cancer benefit to work on? That should keep you busy until I’m home, right?” I hate to think of her with nothing to do but drink. Alone.

She brightens. “Yes. Melinda and I are organizing a fundraiser for that.”

“See? You’ll be so busy you won’t miss me at all.” I put my arm around her.

“That’s not true.”

“I’ll miss you, too, Mom.” The words feel insincere. I’ll think of her occasionally, worry about her here and there. But we won’t miss each other the same way. I glance at my watch. “Time for me to go. The flight’s in a couple of hours—gotta get checked in and stuff.”

We stand, and she puts her arms around me, tears in her eyes. I kiss her cheek and hug her back gently. “I love you,” she says into my chest, and I feel myself tense. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to say those three words. Most guys throw it around like breath, like bait.

I give her another hug, and then release her, steadying her by the shoulders. Kissing her cheek one last time, I force the words out. “Love you.” And then I’m in the limo, staring out at the house that Mark and Lucy Alexander built, the house where I’ve lived most of my life. We circle the turn-around and out onto the street, and the tension begins to seep out of me.

Emma

I find myself on a flight to Austin—first class—with three School Pride cast members, all of whom are nice, and none of whom are Reid. Dammit.

Meredith Reynolds will be Lizbeth’s older sister, Jane. We did a commercial for peanut butter when we were five, and small roles in a Lifetime movie together two years ago. MiShaun Grant recently left her comedic role on a Disney channel sitcom that never quite hit expected ratings. She’ll play Lizbeth Bennet’s best friend, Charlotte. The most famous person on our flight is Jenna Black, who’ll play the youngest Bennet sister, Lydia.

Cast as the daughter of the main character in an Oscar-nominated film two years ago, Jenna collected rave reviews for her performance. She’s rumored to be incredibly smart and planning to attend Princeton. I will earn my high school diploma in a few months, and have never considered going to college. Jenna, fifteen with her whole life mapped out, is insistent.

“You should go! You might want to do something else someday. And if you do continue your acting career, you’ll want to cultivate your intellect to get better roles.”

Cultivate my intellect?

Her logic may make perfect sense, but I’m not sure. I’ve always thought of myself as an average student, but when school is a tutor in a hotel room and you’re turning in assignments over the Internet, there’s no comparison or competition. I have no idea how I measure up to others my age, academically speaking.

We discuss the script and do some informal rehearsing during the flight. According to the film schedule Richter’s assistant emailed, filming begins at 8:00 a.m. tomorrow at an Austin high school. We have two weeks until school begins there, at which point filming during the week is out, so we’re doing the school sequences first.

At the hotel, girls mill around the entrance, which seems odd for this hour on a Sunday. “Fabulous,” Jenna says. “The ‘I heart Reid Alexander’ fan club lost no time on the stalking stakeout.”

The concierge, after apologizing profusely for giving the four of us the stink-eye when we walked in, confirms her assumption. “We keep escorting them out, and they keep sneaking back in, bless their hearts.” His set jaw doesn’t say bless their hearts as much as it says I’m getting a migraine.

Most of the fourth floor rooms are cordoned off for School Pride actors and crew, the studio’s beefy bodyguards in place to protect Reid from his more zealous fans. As I locate my room and slide my key card into the lock mechanism, a door opens two doors down and a cute guy comes into the hallway wearing drawstring pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt. He glances back as if he’s merging into traffic, nods once in my direction with a smile and a soft, “Hey,” and raps twice on another door. I’m not sure if he’s production staff or another one of the actors, but I’m way too tired to think about it for long.

Reid isn’t shooting any scenes the first day, so he’s not on set. I’m apprehensive about seeing him, nervous about what we’ll be doing on film, in front of everyone. I’ve never worried about this sort of thing before, but then I’ve never been the star of anything before. I’m glad to have a day or two to get familiar with the rest of the cast.