Holly Hearts Headlines (Holly Hearts Hollywood Book 2) (10 page)

Everyone had already started to talk amongst themselves and began to partner up. The girl next to me smiled and said, “I’m Eve, do you want to partner up?”

The relief that went through me was about as refreshing as drinking a glass of water after being stranded in the desert for days. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Everyone,” Miss Ansell raised her hands, “I will be assigning your partners.”

Everyone groaned very loudly. You could tell that a lot of the kids in the room are either actors or the offspring of actors because I’ve never seen such a dramatic reaction.

She began to rattle off a list of names and people began to gradually pair up. The feeling of dread grew as she went further down the list. Eve got partnered up with some boy in basketball shorts. Have you ever noticed that boys wear basketball shorts
all the time?
And yet they have the nerve to complain that girls wear yoga pants too much. Uh, duh, we wear yoga pants all the time. They’re comfy, and they make our butts look fabulous. You can’t even
see
boy’s butts that well in basketball shorts.

“Holly,” Miss Ansell said, “you’ll be partners with Bernadette.”

This just in: God hates me.

Later, 3:20pm—Home

When Miss Ansell assigned Bernadette as my partner she flipped her red hair very dramatically and said, “I thought you were supposed to do boy-girl couples. You know, like husband and wife?”

“Gay marriage is legal in this state, Bernadette,” Miss Ansell said in a resigned tone. “It wouldn’t be scientifically accurate to assume every couple with a child is straight.”

“Scientifically accurate, that’s a laugh,” Bernadette said sarcastically as she stomped over toward me. She blew a large bubble, which somehow managed to pop without getting all over her nose and hair. That’s what happens to these kinds of girls. They’re mean to everyone, they never have pimples, and they don’t get gum in their hair.

“So I guess I’ll take the egg every other weekend and you can have it the rest of the time,” she said.

I blinked. “Um, but that would mean I would have it for most of the time.”

Bernadette sat down at the desk next to me and crossed her arms. She had a Tiffany’s heart charm necklace on and she toyed with it anxiously. “Just assume we’re a divorced lesbian couple and
you
got custody. I only want visitation rights with this egg. It will seriously put a cramp on my social life. I can’t carry an egg around everywhere.”

“I think that’s the point of the project,” I said. “It is supposed to show you how a child can affect your day-to-day life.”

“That’s why you have full-custody,” she fired back. “I’m not built for full-time parenting.”

I didn’t feel like arguing with Bernadette so I just caved in like the total wimp I am. When am I going to grow a backbone?

Later, 4:00pm—Home

What am I supposed to do with this egg? Take it to the park? Should I enroll it in pre-school?

Later, 5:00pm—Home

I know that you aren’t supposed to keep score and that you should live your life free of checks and balances, but I earned some
major
good sister points today if I do say so myself. I was in the living room, making a list of ways I could work on being a better friend and person (which I taped to the end of this entry) when Ivy slumped into the room. She flung herself into Mom’s favorite recliner like a ragdoll.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. I didn’t look up at her, but I could see her sadness through my peripheral vision. I’ve always been told I have excellent peripheral vision. Grayson always gets mad because whenever he tries to admire me secretly I can always see him out of the corner of my eye and catch him. I don’t think he really gets mad though. And I like catching him staring at me.

“I wanted to make Fashion Club super cool but I’m messing everything up. I’m a failure. How am I supposed to become the first female leader of the free world if I can’t even manage a high school fashion show?”

I looked at her this time. Her cheeks were fire engine red from frustration. “Okay, hold on. First, since when did you want to become President of the United States? Secondly, what fashion show are you talking about?”

Ivy glared at me. “I’ll have you know,” she said haughtily, “that I have many interests and goals. I may not be a movie star or pop star, but I can have dreams too. Secondly, I’ve
told
you about this fashion show like, a dozen times.”

I racked my brain for some kind of recollection of this fashion show, but couldn’t think of anything. I definitely remembered her mentioning the fashion club, which I still find to be a little silly considering the fact that Ivy was, at that moment, wearing platform sneakers with flowers she drew on with neon sharpies. But I wasn’t going to tell her that. Again.

“Oh, yeah!” I said, lying through my feigned glee. “Sorry, it must’ve slipped my mind.”

“It doesn’t even matter,” Ivy groaned. She leaned back in the recliner and closed her eyes. “I’m going to have to cancel the fashion show.” She seemed like she was on the brink of tears. I tried to place myself in her shoes (obviously in the figurative sense as I would never, ever wear platform sneakers) and think about how sad I would be if I were her.

“Why does it have to be canceled?” I asked, putting my list away. It’s one thing to make a list of how to be a good friend and another thing to actually
act
like a good person.

“Because I don’t know what I’m doing,” Ivy admitted solemnly. “I’ve never even been to a fashion show. I don’t know what clothes we should wear or even where we can get the clothes. Where will the show happen? How can we get a runway? How LONG is a runway?”

“Well, I could help you,” I interrupted Ivy’s blabbering.

Her arm was draped over her eyes and she was leaning all the way back in the chair. She looked almost like a genteel southern lady who was shielding her delicate, lady-like eyes from some impropriety or tragedy. All she needed was one big, poufy skirt and she could’ve been Scarlet O’Hara.

She peered at me from underneath the weight of her arm. “You don’t mean that,” she said flatly. She had smeared her blue, glitter eye shadow with her dramatics. I desperately wanted to grab a tissue and wipe it all up, but I thought it would ruin the moment.

“Yes I do!” I insisted. “Let me help. I know people now, Ivy. I know fashion boutique owners who could donate clothes. Serena knows even more people than I, and I’m sure we could make it a fantastic show.”

“You say that now,” Ivy said glumly. “But I’m sure you’ll forget you offered to help in a few days, and I’ll be right back where I was before.” She re-covered her eyes and sighed dramatically. Ivy could seriously give Lacey and the other Hollywood divas a run for their money when it comes to dramatics.

“Ivy, I’ll help you. I promise.”

“You really mean it?” she mumbled into her forearm.

“Yes, I do. I’ll call some people right now and see what I can do.”

Ivy was out of the recliner with her arms around me in a flash. “Thank you!” she shouted right into my eardrum. “This is going to be so awesome!” She bounced up and down with excitement as she pulled away. “I need to call everyone and tell them the show is back on!” She flounced out of the room, and I imagined her in a Scarlet O’Hara dress again, which added a certain amount of flair to her exit.

You see? I’m not so awful after all.

Holly Hart’s list of “Things to do to be a better person and friend”

1.      
Listen more
: I talk a lot about me. Maybe if I let my friends and family talk more I could learn something. I talk a lot about Grayson, and Lacey, and college, and all kinds of silly stuff. I must remember that the world doesn’t revolve around me!

2.      
Offer to help them
: People will think that I care about them if I offer to help them out. Not that I
don’t
care about them. But other people like to know that I care through my actions! Maybe I could become some kind of Mother Theresa or something who can always be counted on in a crisis.

And that’s as far as I got before Ivy interrupted me. I think I’m going to take a nap. Being a good person is exhausting. How does Kim Kardashian do it?

Later, 8:00pm—Ladies’ Room at Cut Steakhouse

The universe must’ve seen me being nice to Ivy because it has rewarded me
majorly.
I don’t know if this is karma, but I’m so into it. After my little catnap, I went to the gym and had a great workout. Hakim said that I’ve lost five pounds, which is amazing! I don’t remember the last time I actually lost weight. I think I’ve been slowly gaining weight for years. If I lost five pounds just from working out, imagine what I could do if I worked out every day and ate super healthy. In just one year, you won’t be able to tell Heidi Klum and me apart.

After the gym, I went home and hung out with my family. Seriously, my mom, sister, grandparents, and Sloane were all there, and no one was mean to each other. Did you know that my grandma was crowned the Cornhusk Queen in 1969? The Cornhusk Queen is like, a huge deal in Cedar Junction. Only the prettiest girls win that pageant. And they get to lead the annual Cedar Junction Harvest Parade. They sit in a convertible in a sparkly dress and do that awkward wave that all beauty queens do. I never would’ve guessed that my grandma was pretty when she was younger. And not just any kind of pretty; she was
Cornhusk Queen
pretty.

After watching a movie together and relaxing for a while, I helped my mom wash some dishes, and we were talking about the flower shop, Sloane, Grayson, college, everything you can think of! It felt nice to just chat with my mom for once and not argue. I was also trying to be a better daughter and asked about how she was doing, instead of just rambling on about me. Right when we were finishing the dishes I heard the TV behind us say Lacey’s name.

I turned around super-fast, and soapsuds went flying. There was footage of Lacey on the afternoon Celebrity news. She looked exhausted and she put her hands up in front of her face as the paparazzi rushed toward her. “Lacey! What do you have to say about the rumors that your relationship with Grayson is a sham?” the guy behind the camera shouted as he got closer to her. Lacey suddenly reached her arms out and pushed him, hard.

“That’s a lie!” she shrieked. “Leave me alone!” She turned around and ran for the car that was waiting for her by the curb. Bodyguards appeared out of nowhere and surrounded her. Even though you couldn’t see her, you could hear her crying. The footage suddenly ended.

“Sources say that Shell Shocked Records is considering cancelling the upcoming
One Love
tour that starts in only a matter of weeks,” the news anchor said gravely. “Lacey Bennett is rumored to be too inconsistent and emotionally unstable to handle the grueling sixteen city tour. Lacey has yet to comment.”

“Oh that poor girl,” Mom said quietly behind me once the segment was over.

I turned around and rinsed the soapsuds off my hands. “Poor Lacey?” I repeated. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t feel bad for her? She is, or at least
was
, your friend.”

“It isn’t my fault that she can’t handle the fame and attention,” I replied. I admit, I sounded somewhat bitter.

“I didn’t ask you if it was your fault,” Mom said. “I asked if you feel bad at all.”

“No, not really,” I said firmly. “She did this to herself.”

I dried my hands on a hand towel and tossed it back onto the kitchen counter. Mom didn’t say anything. She just looked at me sadly in that “disappointed, but not mad” mom face. I scrambled for something to say when I suddenly smelled a familiar cologne. And then I heard a familiar voice.

“Holly?” Grayson’s voice was a warm whisper over the evening news.

“Grayson!” I gasped. He was dressed head-to-toe in Tom Ford, his favorite designer. He looked so good, and I was so surprised to see him, that for a moment I seriously wondered if I was hallucinating. Isn’t it funny how quickly life changes? Just a few months ago, I would’ve rather
died
than see Grayson. Now it is the other way around.

He smiled his million-dollar smile and wrapped his arms around me. “How’s my little tulip doing?”

“Little tulip?” I repeated. “Do you mean
me
?”

He grinned again. “I’m trying out new nicknames for you. What do you think?”

I shrugged. “It’s not bad. Although I wouldn’t describe myself as ‘little.’”

“Oh hush,” Grayson scolded. He looked up over my shoulder at my mom. “Hey, Daisy, is it okay if I steal Holly away for a little while?” Grayson is so good looking he can get away with calling my mom by her first name, something no other teenager has ever dared to attempt.

“Sure! Just have her back before midnight.” Mom gave me a big conspiratorial grin and just like that, Grayson whisked me away on a surprise date!

When we went outside, I was surprised not to see his Escalade at the curb. Instead, a black town car waited with the lights and engine on. “Where is your car?” I asked him.

Grayson opened the car door for me. “I wanted to be able to pay complete attention to you, so I ordered a driver for the evening.”

My heart swelled, and I got into the car, which smelled strongly of leather and vanilla. I’m glad we had a driver because Grayson was able to touch me with both of his hands without driving us off a cliff.

Just as I was getting into the car, my mom came running out of the house with the stupid
egg
in her hand. “Holly, you can’t forget this!” she said and waved the thing around like it was a flag instead of my symbolic child.

“Is that an … egg?”

“I have to take care of the stupid thing for my sex education class,” I grumbled. I snatched the egg out of my mom’s hand and climbed into the car.