Center Stage! (Center Stage! #1) (30 page)

“And Todd! Taylor tells me that you’re going to Spain over the holidays!” Jill beamed at my brother.

“Yeah,” Todd said enthusiastically. “I’m studying International Relations, and my debate team has been invited to participate in a model U.N. in Madrid in December.”

I looked at my mom in confusion; no one had mentioned to me that my brother was going to Spain! But then of course it was hardly mature of me to be jealous that he got to go on a trip to Europe when I was starring on a television show.

“Hi.”

Taylor materialized out of the blue. Her sudden presence made me paranoid that Elliott was lurking around a teak paneled wall or sitting within earshot on one of the decadent lounge chairs through the open doors to the patio by the pool. She looked a little taller than the last time I’d seen her over the summer, but otherwise, she hadn’t changed at all. She wore no makeup, and an unfashionable t-shirt with the name of her boarding school silkscreened across it.

“Hey,” I said. There was a sticky, awkward moment between us while our respective parents watched. We both just stood there, shyly smiling and not making any attempt to hug each other like we would have a year earlier.

Thankfully, Taylor’s attention shifted to Todd and she took a step closer to him. “I’m so glad you guys could come,” she said.

“Your home is beautiful,” my mother gushed. It
was
beautiful. Beautiful as well as intimidating. Every detail of Chase’s house was exponentially more precious to me because all of them had—at least temporarily—been elements of Elliott’s life.

Chase had invited a handful of production assistants from the show, younger people in their twenties who didn’t have family in the Los Angeles area. When the first of them arrived, I thought that was rather thoughtful of him, but then reminded myself that he was lying scumbag. “Where’s Mercer? I thought he was going to be here,” one of the male production assistants asked, voicing the question that had been bouncing around in my head since we’d arrived.

“Temecula,” Chase informed him (and me). “He decided to spend the day with his mom, after all.” I was both dismayed and relieved to hear this, but honestly a lot more dismayed.

As the living room began to fill up with unfamiliar faces, it was comforting that my parents would have people other than Chase and Jill to mingle with. However, my mom and Jill had struck up a conversation about their shared interest in yoga that exhibited no sign of ending soon. “Taylor, you guys should go on outside and catch a swim,” Chase called across the room, and Taylor helplessly shrugged.

“Do you guys want to swim?” she asked.

“I do!” Kelsey cheered. A warm, fragrant breeze blew into the living room through the open patio doors, from where the immaculately clean pool beckoned.

I followed Taylor up the stone staircase to the home’s second floor with Kelsey trailing behind us, chatting away. “At my real house, we have a bigger pool with a slide. And my mom said when I’m five, I can get a dog, and I’m going to name it Isabella.”

At the top of the steps, several doors opened off a long hallway punctuated by more skylights.
 
I wondered which door led to the room that had once been Elliott’s, and if Taylor even knew that Elliott had been crashing here while she’d been away at school. “She’s allergic to dogs,” Taylor informed me without making any attempt to prevent Kelsey from hearing her.

“My mom said there’s one special kind of dog that I could get that I’m not allergic to,” Kelsey bragged. I was pretty sure Taylor had never met her half-sister before her dad came to fetch her in Los Angeles over the summer, but it seemed like they’d mastered the typical antagonistic banter of siblings in just a few short months.

Taylor entered a bedroom and pulled open one of the drawers on a teak dresser. “You can try any of these if you want. They’re all new, so you know, you don’t have to worry about cooties or anything.”

I peered into the drawer and saw a least six one-piece bathing suits in a variety of patterns. All of them still had price tags on them, which was kind of confusing, because it was my understanding that Taylor had flown into Los Angeles from Massachusetts the day before. “Todd said you’ve never been to this house before,” I said.

“I haven’t.” Taylor flopped down across the enormous king-sized bed. Following her lead, Kelsey also flopped down on her stomach. “Chase is just renting it while he’s coaching on the show. Or, so he says. Those are from Jill. Shopping is her solution to every problem.”

“Oh,” I said. Neither of us had brought up the phone call over the summer during which I’d hung up on Taylor. I didn’t want to ask her pushy questions about her family; we weren’t back on friendship terms again.

“When my dad comes home to New Jersey, we’re gonna play dress-up every day. That’s what he said,” Kelsey said.

“Dad says lots of things,” Taylor murmured.

After changing into bathing suits, we ventured out to the pool, where two of the production assistants and my brother were already swimming. Chase had changed into shorts and was sitting on the edge of the pool dipping his legs in the water. Upon seeing him, Kelsey took a flying leap into the shallow end and paddled toward him, splashing everywhere.

“Chase! Make sure she puts on her water wings!” Jill called from the kitchen.

I treaded water in the deep end for a while and then climbed out to sit down on one of the fancy patio chairs while Taylor and Todd played Marco Polo. It was a beautiful day for mid-November, with a cloudless sky. Chase sat down on the lounge chair next to mine, making me hyper-aware of his proximity. “I knew when you auditioned that you had a fantastic voice, but I didn’t have any idea until we started shooting just how determined you are to win. You’ve really got your eye on the prize.”

“Winning’s not everything.” It seemed like a good strategy to project an air of nonchalance since Chase was the coach of my strongest competitor. “I overheard my new voice trainer say that none of the contestants on the show deserve a shortcut to success because so many
real
artists have to play lousy venues for years before they even get a record deal. If that’s the perception in the music industry of kids who sing on
Center Stage!
, then maybe I made a big mistake auditioning for the show. I want to be a
real
singer. I don’t want to put out one album and then be forgotten.”

Chase leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and looked out over the pool to where Kelsey splashed wildly. “Daddy, watch me!” she cried as she climbed out of the pool, ran a few steps, and hopped back into the water, showering me and Chase.

“Good job, baby girl,” he told her, and then returned his focus to me. “Look, Allison. I’ve seen girls with talent—lots of talent—too many times fall by the wayside and not get their due because a booker at a club didn’t like their looks. Or because the girl just wasn’t open to doing the kind of favors it would take to book a gig as a no-namer. Fame is fame, no matter how you achieve it, and I happen to think it’s a much tougher road for female artists.
 
What matters is talent. Without that, no one’s gonna remember your name for long.”

Chase stared at me intently to make sure I was listening. “The only thing that matters in this business is sticking to your guns. When you’ve got talent,
real
talent, there’s always going to be somebody trying to stick their nose in and tell you how to use it. You know your own voice. What I’m trying to say, here, is that all of the roads are long, and it doesn’t matter which one you take. It’s just gotta feel right.”

I didn’t know how to respond. My burdensome knowledge of his deceitful relationship with Nelly made it difficult for me to look him in the eye. But he was doling out far more valuable wisdom than Nelly had all season.
 
I wondered
why
he was offering up such cryptic encouragement, if perhaps he had a suspicion about how Nelly had been treating me. If that was the case, I wondered why he’d contradict her direction when he obviously thought highly of her. Maybe if I’d chosen Chase as my coach back on my audition day in September instead of Nelly, I would have already been voted off. But now it was clear why Elliott had been allowed to perform songs he’d written and play his
 
guitar on stage. Chase had been insisting on it.

“Watch me again, Daddy!” Kelsey yelled over her shoulder as she once again climbed out of the pool. This time she waddled down the low diving board, hopped at the end of it, and then did an epic belly flop.

“Ouch,” Chase grimaced, watching the little girl recover in the pool and swim over to the side. “That had to hurt. Next time, remember, head down!” He turned to me once again. “So now let me ask you,” he said carefully, “Why’d you pick Nelly as your coach back when you auditioned, and not me? I would have been proud to have you on my team.”

I struggled to come up with a reason that would sound plausible but then decided to stick with a simplified version of the truth. “Because of Taylor. I didn’t want her to be caught up in the middle of my big dream. It wouldn’t have been fair to you once you knew we were friends.”

“Reason enough.” Chase stood and took a striped beach towel off of the back of his chair. Kelsey toddled toward us, leaving dark wet footprints on the white cement around the pool. “Daddy, my tummy hurts,” she said as Chase wrapped her in the beach towel.

“I’ll bet it does. We saw you do a very impressive belly flop off the diving board,” Chase told her. “What would make your tummy feel better?”

“Watermelon,” Kelsey replied.

“Let’s go see if dinner is almost ready.” Chase led Kelsey back into the house through the patio doors as Taylor and my brother climbed out of the pool and dried off with towels.

“Was my dad talking your ear off?” Taylor asked, peering into the living room through the open patio doors to where all the adults had started munching on stuffed endives.

“No. He’s pretty cool,” I told her.

“Sometimes he is,” she said dismissively. “He’s cool when you’re not
relying
on him for anything. Not so cool when you are.”

We thanked Jill and Chase later that evening after the sun had set, and outdoor lights strung in the branches of the coral trees around the driveway suffused the night with an ethereal amber glow. It felt strange leaving Malibu without having had a real conversation with Taylor to patch things up, especially when my brother lingered behind us to say goodbye to her while I got in the car with my parents. Orbs of light from the hanging bulbs patterned my arms and legs in the back seat as we descended the cliff on our way toward home, with my mother yammering about how much she and Jill had in common. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d left something important behind, despite the fact that I hadn’t even taken my overnight bag inside the house. By the time Dad pulled off the freeway at our exit in West Hollywood, I still wasn’t sure if what I’d left behind in Malibu had to do with unresolved issues with Taylor… or with Elliott.

I didn’t have to wait too long for another opportunity to make amends with Taylor. The following afternoon right after Aunt Nancy pulled our giant Thanksgiving tofu turkey roll out of the oven, our doorbell rang. I was the one who answered the door since my father, grandfather, and Todd were already geeking out over some stupid football game on television. Taylor stood on our doorstep with bloodshot, swollen eyes as a black SUV pulled out of our driveway.

“Can I come in?” she asked. “I don’t know where else to go.”

Mom and Dad welcomed Taylor in voices layered with caution and curiosity. My Aunt Nancy told her of course she could stay for dinner, that there was plenty of food. Dad tried to explain who Taylor’s father was to Grandpa Norm, but it was pointless. The only thing my grandfather listened to on the radio was baseball, and the only time he turned on the television was to watch
60 Minutes.

We assembled in Todd’s room for a formal debriefing without parents. Taylor confided to me and my brother that Chase and Jill had sat her down that morning and announced that they were going to separate. I twisted my mouth into a frown as if I had reason to feel guilty about something, even though I could hardly hold myself responsible for Chase Atwood’s actions.

“They got into a huge fight last night after everyone left. My dad got a call at, like, eleven o’clock at night and said he had to go out. Jill completely freaked.”

I bristled. One name popped into my head: Nelly.

“I mean, I was already up in my room, but I could hear everything. She thinks he’s cheating on her, and probably lying about his sobriety, too,” Taylor said, sounding too tired to cry. She sat on the floor leaning her back against Todd’s bed. My brother sat next to her, draping one arm around her shoulders.

“Do you really think he’d cheat on her?” Todd asked. “They seemed pretty happy yesterday when we were there.”

“Yeah,” Taylor scoffed, “That’s what he does. He’s, like, the world’s best liar. He should win an Academy Award for his performance as the best husband and father in the world. Jill keeps giving him more chances, and he just keeps blowing them. He convinced her that he was going to clean up his act in Malibu, but now it looks like this whole time he’s been pretending. She was so upset this morning—she looked like she’d been crying all night.”

The burden of my inside knowledge into Chase’s life in California was almost too much to bear. But I knew if I spilled the beans, I had the power to split Chase and his wife up, forever.

“Well,” I said, trying to be positive, “at least we’re juniors now. And you go to boarding school. It’s not like you have to live with your dad and deal with it every day.”

“But
now
where do I go? I still have to go somewhere on school breaks. What about when I’m in college? Does this mean I just don’t have any kind of home anymore?” Tears sprang up in her eyes at this notion. “Why does he have to mess everything up? Jill’s really nice. I know it sounds crazy, but I like her more than I like him. Now he’s gone and ruined everything.”

My parents must have instructed our extended family to play it cool and not ask questions throughout Thanksgiving dinner. In painstaking detail, Grandma Jean described the wedding of her visiting nurse, which was held at a church in Westchester. Every scrap of food except the cranberries (which no one ever ate) was consumed without anyone making mention of the fact that both a television star and the daughter of a world famous rock musician were seated at the table.

Lee’s new car pulled into our driveway right before Aunt Nancy served her cheesecake (very suspicious timing, if you ask me).
 
“Your mom invited us,” Colton explained as my friends charged through our front door and made a beeline for the dining room table. “She said this might be the last time you’re home before the end of the season.”

“Wow, Taylor!” Lee exclaimed, handing me a pie box from a bakery in Beverly Hills. “I haven’t seen you since probably eighth grade!”

A visit from my friends lifted my spirits as well as Taylor’s. Even though it had only been a few short weeks since I’d last seen them all at Lee’s birthday party, it felt like a lifetime had passed. The last time we were all together was the night Elliott kissed me, before our big fight. The fact that an entire month had passed since I’d had reason to believe Elliott might one day be my actual boyfriend cast a somber shadow over my good mood. I didn’t want to wonder if he was enjoying his Thanksgiving with his mother in Temecula, or if he’d lied to Chase and was actually somewhere else. I cared much more about Elliott’s location that night than I knew I should have.

After Dad drove Grandma Jean home and Grandpa Norm took off in his Mercury Sable carrying with him what remained of the pumpkin cheesecake, the phone in our kitchen rang. A few minutes later, Mom stepped into the living room, where Kaela was kicking all of our butts at one of Todd’s favorite musty trivia board games.

“Taylor? Your stepmom says it’s alright if you want to spend the night here,” Mom said, and then added, “in Allison’s room,” so that my brother wouldn’t get any big ideas.

Taylor flinched as if my mom had startled her awake out of a deep sleep, and struggled to find words before she said, “Thanks, Mrs. Burch.”

“You guys can’t stay up too late, though,” Mom said. “Allison has to go back to the studio in the morning. And you should rehearse tonight.” She waggled a finger at me.

“Yeah, I guess it’s getting kind of late,” Colton said, sitting up straight and stretching.

“Let’s at least finish the game,” Kaela said. She was only two turns away from winning, which was rankling my brother, who was always the best at trivia challenges in my family. She read a question intended for Michelle off the card in her hands. “What’s the unit of measurement for electrical resistance?”

“You just want to keep playing because you’re going to win,” Todd accused Kaela as Michelle threw her hands up in the air, having no idea what the correct answer was.

“What’s wrong with wanting to win?” I asked in Kaela’s defense.

Outside in the driveway, I gave Lee a big hug before he got back into his car to drive everyone home. “Thank you for coming tonight. And thank you so much for all the help you’ve given me on the show,” I said, knowing that mere words couldn’t adequately convey my gratitude.

“De nada,” Lee shrugged.

“No, really, Lee,” I insisted. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you. And what’s this I hear about you and Courtney Von Haas?”

At this, Lee blushed and blinked in surprise. “Courtney Von Haas? Who’s saying things about me and Courtney Von Haas?”

“Everyone. I heard you spend lunch every day in the yearbook office.”

Lee reached for the handle on his car door. “I’m just taking pictures for the yearbook. That’s all.”

Before I could tease more details out of him, I noticed a photographer parked across the street, taking pictures of us. I motioned for Taylor to hurry back into the house with me. It was dark enough outside that I doubted the photographer had been able to clearly capture Taylor from his position. However, I doubted pictures of me hanging out with Chase Atwood’s daughter would do much for my chances of winning
Center Stage!
if they were to appear in gossip blogs.

“Your mom’s being kind of weird to me,” Taylor said later that night after we’d both changed into pairs of my pajamas in my bedroom. “Is it just because I’m dating Todd? Was she weird with Nicole over the summer?”

My mother hadn’t ever discussed the topic of my brother’s dating life with me. It didn’t seem fair to tell Taylor in her unstable emotional state that my mom seemed to like Nicole a lot. All parents liked Nicole. She read boring literary fiction and whenever she was asked about her plans for the future, she said she hoped to get accepted early admission to Pepperdine’s advertising program (which was a lie, she’d told me many times that she wanted to act in movies one day). Parents tended to like teenagers who had achievable goals.

“Well, I think my mom saw those pictures of you over the summer in
Expose
Magazine
out on a beach with some weird guys acting all drunk. I don’t think she wants Todd dating someone who she thinks is… you know. Wild.”

Taylor turned beet red, and her mouth formed a firm line. She stopped spreading out sheets on the small day bed under my window as if she’d suddenly completely forgotten what she was doing. She inhaled with a feathery noise.

I regretted telling her about my mom’s reaction to the magazine. “It doesn’t matter what my mom thinks,” I tried to assure her, pulling back my blankets. “If Todd likes you, he likes you. I don’t think my parents would ever try to stop one of us from dating someone unless they were, like, a murderer or a drug addict or something.”

Taylor slipped into the day bed and pulled up the blankets under her chin. I flipped the light off, and the two of us lay in the dark for a few minutes without saying anything. “It’s totally weird, being back here,” Taylor finally said. “This is the first time I’ve gone to bed in a familiar place since my mom died.”

The admission was so sorrowful that I answered with awkward speed in an attempt to suppress my pity for her. “What about your school? Wasn’t it nice to go back there after jumping around all summer?”

“Yeah, but everyone knows about my mom and just… I’m sick of platitudes.”

Taylor’s school was a mystery to me. I imagined it as a sprawling campus with ivy-covered buildings, sprinkled with girls who earned better grades than me in plaid skirts and blazers having cordial conversations in between classes. The fantasy made me miss my own school fiercely. I never thought I’d miss the tedium of sitting in classrooms and shuffling around the gymnasium, but I wished I had school the next day instead of a return to the studio.

“You left your blue hoodie here the last time you slept over,” I found myself saying.
 

Taylor rolled over on her side and propped up her head on one hand to look at me. “My dad says he thinks you might really win
Center Stage!.
I don’t think he’d lie about that. He takes everything related to music pretty seriously.” She said the word
music
as if it tasted badly.

“There’s this guy on the team your dad’s coaching who might win,” I said carefully. “I mean—I want to win—but I think he has a real shot.”

“Elliott,” Taylor stated. “Aren’t you guys sort of… together?”

Thoughts of turquoise eyes were going to keep me up all night if I attempted to explain the whole history. “We
were,
but it’s complicated. Only one of us can win, and he figured out how the producers operate before I did.”

In the dark, I saw the outline of Taylor in the moonlight as she rested her head on her pillow again, and a long while passed before she replied, “Yeah, boys are complicated.”

As much as I wanted to resist inquiring about a comment that surely had something to do with my brother, I couldn’t resist. “Todd’s not complicated. He’s just an idiot. I can’t believe you actually like him.”

“Well, I do,” she admitted. “He knows me. That’s been really important to me these last few months, just that—he knows who I am. But there’s this girl he goes to college with
 
named Sidley,” Taylor hesitated. I immediately sensed myself getting angry at Todd for whatever reason he’d given her to believe that this other girl was a threat. “I only met her once when I was up there visiting for Halloween, but he talks about her constantly like she’s some kind of genius.
Sidley says processed sugar is worse for you than saturated fat. Sidley thinks the president made a mistake in not taking a stronger role in the elections in Nigeria.
I’m pretty sure she’s trying to get with him.”

My brother had always been shy around girls. When he suddenly went from being a nerd to semi-attractive in high school, he would beg my mom to tell girls who called the house that he wasn’t home. Part of that probably had to do with how mercilessly he was teased as a little boy for having a cleft palate scar on his upper lip before he had another surgery when he was ten to reduce it. Nicole was the first girl he’d actually gone out with, to the best of my knowledge. “I don’t know about that. I’ve never seen him even be nice to a girl before, and he’s being super nice to you,” I said, wanting to put her fears at ease.

She sighed, and said, “Yeah, but so far in my dealings with guys it seems like they’re all kind of jerks. They don’t even mean to be; they just want to take all they can get. From just… everyone.”

I didn’t want to lump Todd in with a generalization about the entire male species, but when I considered Chase Atwood and Nelly, and Elliott and that trickle of female laughter I heard spilling out of his hotel room, Taylor had a grim point. There was one boy, however, who’d never be so greedy or deceitful.
 
Lee Yoon had always been generous and considerate to me. Maddeningly, I was a tiny bit jealous of Courtney Von Haas if she was dating him.

“Anyway, you’re so lucky.” I could tell by how Taylor’s words were thickening that she was starting to fall asleep. She’d always been a heavier sleeper than me, prone to conking out during the boring parts of movies, sometimes even nodding off during long phone calls. “Your parents are so normal.”

A year ago, I would have taken that as an insult coming from a girl whose mother was a glamorous wreck of a failed television star, and whose father sold out concert arenas internationally. But that night, on Thanksgiving, my heart ballooned with gratitude for my parents because Taylor was right. I was so lucky.

“Is it okay if I just leave my hoodie at your house? I like knowing that something of mine is still here,” she said before drifting off to sleep.