Holly Hearts Headlines (Holly Hearts Hollywood Book 2) (6 page)

Of all the pizza joints in the world, she had to walk into this one. It was Lacey, in case you haven’t figured that out. She was there on a
date
with
MY
BOYFRIEND.
Ugh, it hurts that I even have to write that. Why is this my life now, why?

I waited for Lacey to leave before I emerged from my stall. The bathroom attendant, who was still flustered over her encounter with Lacey, looked at me with a look that said, “I thought you fell in.”

I went back into the restaurant with the covert movements of a green beret. I might as well have started to belly crawl my way across the marble floor. I made it back to my table just in time to see Grandpa shoving breadsticks in his mouth for his “world famous” walrus impression. My mom hates the walrus impression because it’s less of a comedy act and more like political commentary. He usually slaps his hands together and says, “Awf! Affordable healthcare!” Which is way more like a seal than a walrus, but Grandpa never seems to care that my mom is as liberal as it gets and that she doesn’t find it funny.

“Lighten up, Daisy!” Grandpa was saying as he pulled the now soggy breadsticks out of his gums. “You liberals should learn how to take a joke!”

Mom rolled her eyes, and she looked at me as I sat back down at the table. “Holly, are you okay? You look a little green around the gills.”

I looked at my mom and mouthed, “Grayson and Lacey are here.”

The problem with this plan was that my mom is a terrible lip reader. I mean the actual worst. Once, at Meet the Teacher Night I mouthed to her, “Where is Ivy?” and she shouted back, “Do you need a tampon, honey?” Teachers and students surrounded us. I added it to the list of “Things I’ll Never Live Down” which has been growing larger and larger every year.

My mom furrowed her brow and thought hard for a moment. She shook her head and her dark curls shook. “Holly, you know I can’t lip read.”

I groaned, as I didn’t even feel like saying this out loud in front of the whole family. “Grayson and Lacey are here,” I said through gritted teeth.

Ivy immediately perked up at the mention of Grayson. Unfortunately, she’s very unaware of the fact that he’s the most unavailable person on planet Earth. First, he has his fake-girlfriend to tend to. And oh yeah, she’s a huge celebrity and America’s Sweetheart.
On top of that,
I’m his REAL girlfriend but nobody can know. Especially Ivy. She couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. It is an actual miracle that she’s kept the record deal thing a secret.

“Where are they?” Ivy squealed. “Ask Grayson to sit with us,” she urged me.

“Ivy, I’m sure they don’t want to have dinner with us, they’re probably on a date,” Mom said. I was thankful that my mom didn’t agree, but a little sad over the reminder that they were on a date and I’m not.

“Who are we talking about?” Grandma asked. I noticed sadly that she had managed to spill a little bit of pizza sauce on her sweater. You know those sweaters that teachers always have with sunshine, rainbows, and kittens embroidered on them? My grandma probably could break the world record for “ugly teacher sweater collection.” There was a glob of tomato sauce right on the whiskers of an unfortunate yellow cat.

“Holly works with them at the studio,” Mom explained. “They’re a very famous musical couple.”

Ivy smacked my arm, apparently no longer mad at me for whatever it was that I did earlier. “There they are!” she said and pointed her shaking finger at a table a few feet away.

Grayson regularly tells me that Lacey means nothing to him and that he wants to be with me, but looking at them sharing a pizza over a candlelit dinner, I suddenly wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Just another young teen celebrity. Some role model she’ll be,” Grandpa chimed in sarcastically. “Next thing you know she’ll be pregnant and the media will celebrate. What’s happened to family values in this country?”

“Would you define ignoring your daughter-in-law for years as family values?” Mom murmured under her breath. Grandpa pretended he didn’t hear her, and I had to fight the urge to applaud.

Everyone went back to eating their pizzas, the moment forgotten, and I quickly texted Grayson under the table.

ME: You haven’t impregnated Lacey, right?

I watched Grayson take his phone out of his pocket and read my message with a confused look on his face. He frantically texted back:

HIM: What are you talking about? Of course not.

ME: Well, are you having a nice date then? Is the pizza good?

Grayson looked up from his phone in surprise.

HIM: Are you here?

ME: Look for the table with two senior citizens in unflattering clothing.

HIM: You just described everyone here.

ME: Then look for the senior citizens in unflattering clothing that also happen to be sitting at a table with ME.

Grayson looked around until our eyes met and my stomach filled with butterflies.

HIM: Meet me by the bathrooms.

That just totally played into my very shameful Mr. Rochester inspired fantasy. Even though
Jane Eyre
is an amazing feminist novel, Mr. Rochester was a bit of an asshole. However, I always kind of found him to be smoking hot whenever he was being assertive with Jane. He would scowl and be all like, “Jane do this,” and she’d sass him. Talk about living the dream.

So when Grayson demanded that I meet him I immediately had a vision of him in a puffy shirt and those tight, high-waisted black pants where you can see a vague outline of…his
member.
I jumped out of my seat and everyone around me jumped.

“Holly, are you okay?” Mom asked.

“Just need to run to the bathroom,” I said breathlessly. I was overcome with the thought that Grayson’s tongue could soon be touching my own tongue.

“She should eat more fiber,” Grandma said as I walked away. “Then she wouldn’t have to go to the bathroom so much.”

Grayson was taking a
huge
risk by meeting with me. We were in a public place and paparazzi (and anyone with a cellphone really) could have taken a picture at any minute. To be honest, I found the risk and danger to be a little … hot.

I’ve never been a risk taker. I’m Holly Hart, the safest and most boring person on planet Earth. Holly Hart isn’t the kind of girl with secret boyfriends who arrange secret meetings in trendy LA restaurants. This is the “new-and-improved” Holly, I guess. If you call this improvement. All of my friends seem to be mad at me, but whatever, I have a hot boyfriend. I guess I’ll get over it.

When Grayson came around the corner my heart pole vaulted into my throat. He swept me into his arms as I took a deep breath of his delicious man-smell. It’s a smell totally unique to him, and even though the smell of tomato sauce and mozzarella were equally as strong, his familiar scent was so comforting I almost cried.

“Hey, pretty girl, I missed you,” he murmured into my hair. I love it when Grayson talks into my hair. It’s like he wants even my hair follicles to feel comforted.

“I missed you too.”

Grayson gave me a big kiss that totally made me feel like I could conquer anything that came my way. “Are you here with your family?” he asked when we broke away.

“Yeah, my grandparents are here too. It’s a long story,” I said quickly, seeing the questioning look in his eyes.

Grayson glanced over my shoulder at the restaurant behind me. “I need to get back. But I promise we’ll catch up soon, okay?” He kissed me on my forehead and I nearly melted. While secret relationships can be fun in some aspects, something tells me that real relationships are better.

April 7
^th
, 9:00am

Late last night I finally cracked and put some things for sale on Craigslist. It hurt a little bit to see photos of things I’ve loved for many years for sale for strangers to buy. I decided, after an internal struggle, that I should try to sell some of my vintage, collectible Barbie dolls. I figured that there were probably people out there who would be interested in them way more than my bottle cap collection.

So when I got a phone call this morning from someone wanting to buy my 1963 Barbie and Midge set, which I was lucky enough to find at a garage sale when I was twelve years old, I felt a little something like heartbreak. It just isn’t fair that growing up means you have to let stuff go. Shouldn’t I be able to hold onto important parts of me as I move on to this next stage of my life?

The woman who called said her name was Betty Lou and she sounds really nice so, hopefully, she will give the dolls a good home. We’re meeting at a gas station since Mom isn’t comfortable having strangers over to the house. After all, they could just observe our family life and steak out our valuables to come back and rob us blind later.

Amanda and I were texting earlier and she didn’t seem to think that selling my stuff was as big of a deal as I do, so maybe I just need to calm down.

Later, 11:00am—Parking lot of Fossil Fuel Gas Station

Okay, I actually love this woman. This woman is who I want to grow up to be. She showed up at our meeting spot in a bright orange 1970’s Volkswagen Beetle that had multicolored flowers painted on the sides of the car. When she got out of the car, she had this big smile on her face. “Hi, I’m Betty Lou!” she shouted. She said she was almost seventy years old, but she looked like she was in her fifties. Her brown hair was so long that it swished past her butt as she walked. She had perfect skin. Seriously, she had no scars and no wrinkles.

When I showed her the Barbie and Midge box set, she was so excited. She might as well have been a ten year old girl on Christmas morning. “They look perfect!” she said. “I had this doll set when I was a little girl and I always regretted getting rid of them.” She looked up at me with shining eyes. “Thank you so much.”

“Oh, don’t thank me,” I said quickly. I was, after all, selling them to her for seventy-five dollars.

“Do you have any other Barbie dolls from this era?”

I thought back to the giant box of vintage dolls I keep in my closet and I realized then that Betty Lou would receive much more joy from these dolls then I would from keeping them in storage while I’m in college. It is not like I’m going to take a box full of Barbie dolls to college. I don’t want to be the freak arriving to college with
dolls
.

“Actually, I have a lot. They’re all at home, let me call my mom and see if it is okay if you come over.”

Mom wasn’t exactly thrilled that I am bringing her over to the house, mainly because the house is a mess, and she doesn’t want to leave a bad impression. I swear, a serial killer could break into the house, and she would apologize for the mess.

Although, if that serial killer guy in
The Fall
broke into the house Mom would probably fall all over herself. Serial killer or not, that guy is
hot
.

Later, 1:00pm—Home

Okay so we live in a modern era, and I don’t really see actual cash most days. Everyone uses credit cards now. I don’t even know
how
to write a check. So when Betty Lou handed me a STACK of cash for the Barbie dolls I almost didn’t even know what to do with it.

Seriously, I’ve never held this much money in my hands at one time. What am I going to do with this? Normally I’d go out and buy myself
more
things for my collections but I think that would be counterproductive at this point.

I don’t really need anything though. I have enough clothes and shoes to last me for forever (or at least until I go up or down a size, but let’s be real, I’m probably not going down a size anytime soon) and for right now I don’t have any food or board expenses. Maybe I should just put the money into a bank account and save it.

Later, 2:15pm—Home

I spoke to Serena a while ago and
she
suggested that I give the money to a charity!

“There’s an event I’m going to tonight and you should totally come,” she said. “It’s a charity auction, but they auction off
people
instead.”

“Wait, what?” I asked. “That sounds a little racist.”

“Oh, no it is totally awesome! The organization is trying to create awareness about the sex trafficking industry, so to raise money young celebrities or socialites will be ‘auctioned’ off to the highest bidder. All of the money goes straight to saving girls from the industry and helping them find jobs and get therapy if they need it. I’m being auctioned tonight and
last
year I broke records with the amount of money people bid for me.”

“Well, what do you expect me to do? This money may be a lot for my standards, but I doubt it is record charity auction material.”

“There’s this girl who has been a part of the auction for a while now and every year practically no one bids on her. I can tell that it is really taking a toll on her self-esteem and I feel so bad for her. She’s a socialite and she’s Kim Kardashian’s neighbor. Her mom is constantly making her do stuff she doesn’t want to do for the sake of appearances. You should come and bid on her! You’ll make her feel better, and you’ll donate money to a good cause.”

“Hm, I guess that’s not a bad idea.”

“I’ll come pick you up at six o’clock. I’ll have my stylist, David, find something for you to wear and deliver it.”

“Can’t I just wear one of the dresses I already have?”

“This event is pretty fancy, Holly. I don’t want you to feel underdressed.”

My first celebrity charity event! It seems incredibly weird that these people put on events that cost thousands of dollars in order to
raise
thousands of dollars, but whatever.

Oh, someone knocked on the door. I think that Serena’s stylist is here already with the dress. Say what you want about the traffic in this city, but if you’re on a fashion-related mission you can get
anything
accomplished in lightning speed.