WANG HOUSE
KITCHEN
2:42 PM
JULY 12, 2013
After an agonizing half-hour of listening to Vera's side of the conversation, Kristen finally watched Dylan's guardian put the phone down and take a deep breath, lifting her arms. "Come here, sweetheart." Kristen stiffly moved toward her, and cringed as Vera embraced her. "I'm so sorry."
"What happened?" she demanded, loosening herself. "Is she okay?"
"I didn't mean to alarm you. She's, er, relatively fine."
"What do you mean, relatively?"
"She's in a coma," Vera murmured. "Of course you are welcome to stay for the summer, but anytime after that... Well, I'm sure you know Dylan has to make the decision whether she wants to stay in Westchester or move out to California with the rest of the Marvils. If she does..." It would be totally awkward. "And if she doesn't, there will be a lot of upheaval what with selling the Marvil Manor and permanently moving Dylan in with us. I just don't know if you would still feel comfortable here." More like they wouldn't be comfortable.
"Thank you so much, Vera." She tried to smile. "You're very sweet."
"It's no trouble at all!" she crowed. "I'm just happy we could be here for you."
Kristen sighed a little. "If it's okay, I think I'll go out for a little while. But could you tell me what happened?" She didn't want to know.
"As I told you before, she's in a coma. They're predicting that it will last for a few months, and they're still testing to determine the cause. But it looks like extensive damage to the liver, kidneys, brain, and heart through heavy drinking." How could she tell a young girl that her mother was an alcoholic?
"Heavy drinking?" Kristen echoed. She felt like she was slipping. The precarious grip she'd had on this situation twisted out of her hands. "But my father was the one who drank." Had she said that out loud?
"Well, maybe that's not it." Vera reached behind her to turn off the stove, then placed a hand over Kristen's. "Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry this happened to you."
"It's okay." She forced a grin. It seemed to use far more muscles than the noted 17. "It's not like anyone's dead or anything."
Vera blinked. "Please don't joke about that."
Kristen swallowed. "I think I'll leave soon. I'm going to go talk to my boyfriend."
"You aren't too young to have a boyfriend?"
"I guess not." And with a careless shrug, she breezed out of the kitchen.
"Dinner's at 7:45 tonight, Kristen!"
"Thanks!" she called back, checking her reflection in the full-length mirror hanging in the front hall.
She wore a flirty, short green tie-knot sarong skirt over an Alexander McQueen bikini. Her toned stomach would be bare when she removed her flimsy white Ralph Lauren beater, and her hair was fishtailed behind her.
She was ready to go see Kemp.
UNIVERSAL STUDIOS
ROCK 'N' ROLLER COASTER
3:59 PM
JULY 12, 2013
The line inched toward the double doors that led the way to Claire's used-to-be-favorite roller coaster at Universal, but, even as they approached them, she decided she didn't feel like waiting any longer. "I think I'll grab an Icee," she announced. She'd promised herself she'd get at least ten while she was in Florida, because God forbid she drank even a smoothie (except that Delicious Nutritious crap) while she was with the Pretty Committee.
"Don't you dare," Jay snapped. "We've been waiting here for fif-"
"Let her do what she wants, Jay." Mrs. Lyons spoke coldly in third person, as though Claire wasn't there. She'd read that it was the #1 way to make a child feel disappointed with themselves.
She didn't even notice. "Wanna come, Todd? I'll pay." She knew that was the best way to bother her parents, when she snatched her brother for her side. When both their kids bonded against them, the Lyons adults knew something was up.
Todd looked back and forth between the ride and the Slushie Shack. "After this ride?" he begged. Too cute.
"No," Claire responded flatly, tapping her foot, taking on the personality of Massie.
"Fine." He dragged his feet down the concrete ramp, pushing past people with glee as Claire, behind him, apoligized for his behavior.
"What kind do you want?" she asked, examining the board of choices, determined not to turn around and look at Judi and Jay.
"Green Apple," he declared, jumping up and down, his auburn hair spiking up with sweat.
"Okay. One Green Apple and one Grape, puh-lease." She handed her $5 bill to the man.
"That will be $5.02."
"I don't have two cents, though."
"$5.02." He glanced at the line beginning to form. "$5.02, miss, or I'll have to dump these down the drain."
"Todd. Do you have two cents?"
"You said you'd pay."
"Todd!" She leaped forward, about to strangle him. "Do you or do you nawt have two fucking cents?"
"Language!" shouted a mother, protectively covering her child's ears. "If you can't pay, leave!" She stepped around them. "Could we please have a Mango slushie and a salted pretzel?"
"Todd!" Claire screamed as patrons hurried past them, purposely not looking at the spectacle and steering their kids away, toward the gazebo.
"You said you'd pay." He reached for his drink. "Gimmee."
"Give me two cents! Gawd, imbecile, check your pockets!"
He turned them out and grinned. "See, no change here."
She slapped him. "We'll go," she told the harried clerk. "Just what the fuck was that?" she yelled in his ear, slamming him onto a bench. Ignoring his tears, she continued. "What kind of behavior was that? I offer to pay and you just stand there like a goddamn idiot. Come on, we're leaving."
"No!" he howled, his cheeks red. "I want to go on the Rock 'n' Roller Coaster!"
"Too bad. I'm nawt waiting with you, and Mom and Dad sure aren't."
"Claire Stacey Lyons!" A furious voice came from above her. "What in the world are you doing to your brother?"
"He wouldn't give me two cents."
"Cl-Claire said she'd p-p-pay," he stammered, wobbling toward Judi.
"Oh, sweetheart." She whipped toward Claire, backhanding her across the face. "What kind of big sister talks to their sibling this way? Just who do you think you are?"
"I'll take her home." Mr. Lyons waved his wife off. "Go with Todd into the park. Get him ice cream or something. I'll bring Claire back to the hotel."
Judi nodded firmly. "Alright." And she turned haughtily away.
AUNT JEAN'S HOUSE
BACKYARD
10:11 PM
JULY 12, 2013
"I can't believe they're still talking," Massie smirked, gesturing back toward the house, where the lights shone through the windows as the adults stood around with champagne glasses in their smooth hands.
"These go on all night in France," Alex explained, grinning. His eyes twinkled. "So, tell me more about your riding?"
"Oh, horses? Um, well, my horse is named Brownie," she fibbed. "He's, uh, brown." Is he really?
He laughed. "What else? Dressage, hunter-jumper, cross-country?"
Her mind ticked through various possibilities. What was he talking about?
"Um, hunter-jumper," she decided randomly.
"Cool." He looked genuinely interested. Bad, bad, bad. "What circuits do you do? How far do you travel?"
"Um, just around," she said. How far did most riders travel? "We went to Virginia a couple times." Maybe now he'd start talking about himself.
"Oh, that's all? My favorite show was at the Florida Winter Circuit. That was my first Class A. When I was eight. I won the blue ribbon." He smiled fondly. "White Light and I just brought it home."
"Don't you always bring it home? The ribbon, right?"
"Uh, yeah, of course we brought the ribbon home." He looked at Massie like she was insane. " But I mean brought it home. Like, we did a good job."
"Oh. I knew that. Good for you."
"Thanks. Have you done a Class A yet?"
"Um, I'm still in class..." F for fib? L for lie? "B."
"Oh." He nodded. "Premium?"
"No."
"Oh." He nodded thoughtfully. "But I thought Westchester was in the Premium class. Right?"
"Uh, no." She tried to sound like he was the dumb one. "We're, uh, Gold."
"What are you talking about?" he asked, sounding agitated. "It's Premium, Advanced, Intermediate, Secondary, Novice, Beginner, Training."
"Yeah, that's what I met."
"Which one?"
"Um, Advanced?"
"Right." He rolled his eyes and stood up, lifting his glass of apple cider. "I think I'm gonna go inside for a little while. Do you want anything?"
"Nah," she replied sadly. "I'll just stay out here."
SUNNYSIDE PARK
PLAYGROUND
4:24 PM
JULY 12, 2013
Kristen pushed off lightly with her toes, so the black rubber swing she was perched on glided back and forth. "Um, Kemp? I have to tell you something."
He leaned toward her, grabbing the chain of her chair and pulling her closer to him. "What?"
"Something happened to my Mom." She dug her teeth into her already bleeding lip. "She kind of passed out while I was talking to her, and now she's in a coma. And the doctors said it'll last for months."
"You're joking."
"No way."
Kemp squeezed his eyes shut. "Then maybe this is a bad time."
"What?"
"I was going to ask you something, but... never mind."
"No, tell me."
"But..."
"Tell me."
"My family and I are going to the Caribbean in six days. And I was going to ask you to come."
Maybe her mother's... the incident... was a blessing in disguise. Ms. Miller would never have let her go. But she was pretty sure Vera would be glad to get Kristen off her hands. And a summer jaunt to Turks-and-Caicos or Antigua would be just what she needed to really achieve Pretty Committee-worthy status. "I would love to go."
"But, after your mom..."
She shook her head, her blonde ponytail flopping around her small, perfect ears. "This sounds guh-reat. Exactly what I need to get away. What island?"
"We have a house on Barbados, right on the water, and Dad keeps asking what the hell we have a vacation home for if we're not going to use it. Mom's lobbying for Saint Kitts. Deirdre's already bragged to all her friends that she's going to the Cayman Islands. And the only place Bria's heard of is the Bahamas, so she's been begging for that. And I want Aruba. Did you know they let you into clubs at 16 there?" He waggled his eyebrows devilishly.
She tapped his hand and chuckled dryly. "You're 12, Kemp. And who are Deirdre and Bria?"
"Deirdre's my older sister. She's 15. And Bria's going into second grade, but she's young. She has a late birthday, I think."
"Gotcha." She knew she was going to sound desperate, but she had to make sure he wasn't pulling her leg. "Do you really want me to go with you?"
"Yeah! The only thing we'll have to worry about is this loser Dempsey Solomon. My mom met his mother in college, I think, and now she expects him and I to be, like, inseparable or something. But he's just a dorky ass."
She shrugged with one shoulder and laughed. "Whatevs."
"Don't set your sights on him," Kemp warned, placing a warm hand on her shoulder. "You're my girlfriend."
Girlfriend. The word sent a delicious shock through her body. Who would have guessed Kristen Gregory, previous B-List blend-in, would have a boyfriend before seventh grade even started? And going to the Caribbean with him? What could be better?
She simpered playfully. "And you're my boyfriend."
Suddenly business-like, he fended her off. "So, the plane leaves at 10:30 or so on the eighteenth. We'll pick you up from..."
"Vera Wang's house," she muttered.
"Why in the world are you at Vera Wang's house?"
"Cuz she's looking after my friend Dylan."
"Why isn't Dylan with her own family? And why is Vera Wang looking after her?"
"Long story. So her address is 4680 Sagamore Street. But she's nawt really awn Sagamore. It says Dead End, but there's this kind of turn-off at the end of the road. So you go right, and kind of drive down that gravel place lined with those rhododendrons. At the end of that is her house." She thanked her lucky stars that she didn't have to tell Kemp that she really lived in the Pinewood Apartments.
"Okay, that's great. So we'll come and get you at around 8:15-ish. You need your passport."
Passport. Crap. She doubted anyone would allow her into the apartment, especially to get a booklet that would allow her out of the country when her mother was unconscious in the hospital and couldn't even give permission. What to do, what to do? Dare she tell Kemp? No. She'd talk to Vera first.
"How long will we be there for? So I know how much to pack."
"Probably until late August. But you don't need a new outfit for every day, like some of your friends."
She giggled. "Fine."
"So I'll see you in a few days."
What did that mean? He'd see her when he picked her up? He'd ask her out on a real date? He'd bring her to his house? Back to the park? To get ice cream from Baskin Robbins? "Can't wait. Isn't that your mom?" She pointed to a silver Ford convertible.
"Yup," he answered with distaste, running his fingers through his black cowlick. "Let's go. She'll bring you home."
"It's okay. I can walk. I don't to be trouble."
"No trouble." He smirked. "Come on, Kristen."
The way he said her name almost made her melt. "Alright," she consented, flicking his wrist. "I'll let you bring me home."
WANG HOUSE
FOYER
4:51 PM
JULY 12, 2013
"Kristen!" Dylan exclaimed as she saw her friend straggle through the doorway, beaming. "Where have you been?"
The Delta was still walking on eggshells around the redhead. After all that had happened with Kemp, she didn't want to bring up his name. Dylan could have so easily said no, so easily refused to let Kristen stay with her, that she figured she'd better be as nice as possible. After all, neither of them had really apoligized. They'd never actually made up. "Just out," she replied evasively, closing the door behind her and smoothing her hair back. Strands of frizz popped up anyway.
"You were with Kemp, weren't you?" she asked kindly.
"Maybe." She swallowed and began to remove her thin sandals, depositing them at the side of the hallway.
"Oh, Kristen-" Dylan began to whimper- "I'm so sorry."
"Sorry? What are you sorry for? Ehmagawd, if anyone should be sorry, it's me." She hugged her friend, speaking into the Gamma's full neck. "I am sorry. I completely tore Kemp away from you, and I know you loved him..."
"Hey, love's a strong word." She put on a grin. "I think I was just upset that you didn't even care. You just laughed."
"Let's bring this up to your room," Kristen proposed. When they got there, she sat gingerly on the edge of the comforter while Dylan plopped against her pillows. "I was so happy to have gotten Kemp, and I was happy that he wanted me too. I guess I didn't care about what you thought. Kemp and I were content, and you were just on the outside. I didn't care. And I'm so sorry."
"I was too dramatic. And it was Kemp that ticked me awf more than you. He was acting like a total asshole, and I was having a bad day in the first place..."
"Why?" she asked immediately.
"Mom's really pressuring me to decide where I want to live," she told Kristen. "I can't leave Westchester and you guys, but I don't want to separated from my family for eternity."
"You can always visit," she pointed out. "I don't want to lose you either, Dyl."
She fluffed a bright blue pillow. "But, well, I think she's considering a relationship."
"What are you talking about?"
"Oh, right, you couldn't come to Cali for modeling. She was totally buddy-buddy with her new driver. I don't think she wants to leave him. Maybe that's why she so set against coming back here."
Kristen giggled in spite of the serious conversation. "Ehmagawd, can you picture the scandal? Merri-Lee Marvil marries chauffeur. Youngest daughter doesn't bother to attend wedding."
Dylan smile-scowled. "Of course I'd go to her wedding. But Jesus Christ, her driver?"
The blonde snorted. "We should search the web. There might be photos. You know the paparazzi, and those tourists with star maps. I'm sure someone will have posted something."
But before they could boot up her computer, a bright green notice filled Dylan's television screen, which up to now had been on mute.
"Ehmagawd."
"What's your password?" Kristen tried something.
"Eh-ma-gawd."
"Can you puh-lease tell me your password?"
"Ehmagawd. Kristen? This is nawt happening."
"What?" She whirled around, the mouse slipping out of her hand and onto the green-carpeted floor. "Is it your mom? My mom? Is Vera awn TV? Are we live?"
"The second one." Dylan turned up the volume and closed her bedroom door.
"And here's Jenna Whitman-Walsh, with the full story."
"Thanks, Harry. So, rumor has it that esteemed Daily Grind host, Merri-Lee Marvil, divorced single mother of three children, has done it."
"Done what? Had sex?" Kristen quipped, making them both cackle.
"Shh," Dylan scolded, hitting the button a few more times to drown out her friend's noise. "Shut up, Kris."
"That's right, folks, she's gone the route of Megan Fox, Gwyneth Paltrow, Tori Spelling, Penelope Cruz, Jessica Alba, and, of course, Britney Spears. Can anyone guess? No, not you, Harry." She guffawed, seeming to listen to a comment from backstage. "That's right. Merri-Lee Marvil has eloped."
"Ehmagawd!" Dylan screeched, throwing the remote across the room, where it hit the wall with a thunk. She didn't know whether to be excited for her mom, or shocked that she hadn't been informed. She didn't even know the man. Did Ryan and Jaime know? Did her mother like them better because they'd decided to go with her? Would she have been told if she was watching this broadcast from L.A. instead of Westchester?
"We'll be back in five with more intriguing information on this latest development." The commercials flew by: Burger King, Nerf, some sort of cake pan, a sponge, a new series, and La La Loopsy. "And hello again. In case you missed the beginning of this segment, esteemed Merri-Lee Marvil, devoted single (although not anymore) mother and Daily Grind star has eloped. You heard it here first. Now let's fly over to Lucy in Napa Valley, California. This was Jenna Whitman-Walsh."
"Hi, I'm Lucy Bennett." She smiled brilliantly, showing off big, straight teeth and pink lipstick. "I'm in Napa Valley, standing in one of the most beautiful vineyards in the world. And I'm sure Merri-Lee agrees with me, is that right?"
A light laugh, and the camera panned to the left, revealing none other than the famous woman herself. "I do, Lucy. This has always been the most wonderful spot on the Earth to me, as I was born and raised not ten minutes from this spot. And now I have the opportunity to share it with my new husband, Marcus."
He smiled languidly and tightened his grip on Merri-Lee.
Lucy winked at the lens. "But nothing's ever that simple, am I correct? There must be some scandal involved."
"I'm sure you'll find something, Lucy." She sounded very worldly.
"You're got that right. Isn't Marcus your driver? Or, as they say now, chauffeur?"
"Not anymore. We're officially bringing Lloyd, our Westchester man, out to California." She blew a kiss. "See you, baby!"
"Cheating already, Merri-Lee? And in such company, too!"
"We have a very open relationship, right, Marcus?"
"Not at all."
Lucy nodded. "Thanks, Merri-Lee. May you have a long and happy marriage. This is Lucy Bennett, over and out. Back to you, Harry."
The second she finished her sentence, Dylan hit the ceiling. "That bitch!"
"Who? Lucy Bennett?"
"My mother!" she screamed, her voice echoing through the house.
"Dylan!" The voice of Josephine floated through the thin walls. "Are you okay?"
"Fine, fine." Dylan rolled her eyes and chucked a pencil at the door. "Gawd, I miss my privacy."
"Why's your mom a bitch?"
"Where to start, where to start?" she sang bitterly. "Hmm, how about Lloyd!" She was reaching hysteria. "She knows he's my favorite person awn Earth. She knows how much he means to me. And now she's taking him away?!"
"You must be devastated."
"Understatement," Dylan declared. "Plus, she didn't deem it appropriate to tell me she was fucking engaged, let alone getting married? Like, excuse me, but what the fuck?"
"Yeah, that's pretty bad."
"I guess we're both having problems. I think we should go shopping."
"That's fine." She didn't want to upset Dylan more by opposing her.
"Cool. I've been absolutely dying to get my hands on that new BCBG sweater I saw in the catalogue. I hope it's awn the racks."
"And Louis Vuitton has some cute socks."
"Socks?" Dylan repeated. "Gawd, you are poor."
"Wow, thanks," Kristen smiled sarcastically, her feelings only the teensiest bit hurt. "That just does wonders for my self-esteem."
RIVERA MANSION
ALICIA'S ROOM
5:13 PM
JULY 12, 2013
"Yeah, sure I'll hold," Alicia agreed absentmindedly, twirling a loose thread on her Oscar di la Renta skirt around her finger. "Really? Are you sure? Oh, okay! Thank you." Even though she was talking over the phone, a smile bloomed on her face. She'd been well-trained in social appearances.
On the other end of the line, Karen Woodstrow spoke briskly. "Have the papers been signed, Alicia?"
Refraining from rudely pointing out the obvious, that they had only talked five hours ago, she snapped, "My parents haven't even been home."
"So who picked you up from the studio?"
"My driver, Alex."
Karen didn't seem to have a reply. "That's all well and good, but I'll need those papers in two days the latest."
"Then I'll need a Fax."
"943-0289." Karen leafed through a book sitting on her desk. "Look, Alicia, I have somewhere to be in 15 minutes. Can you have that lease in my hands by the fourteenth?"
"Sure."
"Thank you." With a brusque click, she hung up.
Sheesh.