Sunset Boulevard (16 page)

above the stove.

After the initial surprise wore off, Ash worked to be a good dinner guest, even if he felt a little

odd. Everything was familiar but different at his old best friend's house, like walking out of a

movie and coming back a half hour later to realize you'd missed the whole middle.

"So, Ash, how are things? Still playing piano?" Gigi asked, looking at him over the rim of her

wineglass.

The question made Ash feel like he'd been gone even longer. "I stopped a while ago," he said.

"But I'm playing guitar now."

"Dude, that's awesome," Brendan said, high-fiving across the basket of garlic bread. "Think

you'll ever get a band going?"

Ash shrugged, grinning. "I've been trying," he said, coiling some strands of spaghetti around

his fork. "My bandmates have a hard time making decisions. You know how it goes."

"I wish," Brendan said. Turning to Jake, he said sarcastically, "He's got bandmates and you've

got Abelson. No wonder he doesn't hang out with you anymore."

Ash cringed at the reminder that he'd been the one who ditched Jake. They'd already started to

drift, and the one time he'd tried to include Jake with his new friend Tucker, when they were all

about eleven, the whole experience had been a nightmare. Jake still thought girls were gross,

and all Tucker wanted to do was try to get 7-Eleven clerks to sell them
Playboy
s.

Jake took the remark in stride. "Bren, you couldn't even get into band playing the clarinet," he

snickered, making eye contact with Ash. "I don't think you'll have bandmates anytime soon

either."

"I only tried out for clarinet 'cause all the cute girls play the flute," Brendan shot back, looking

at Ash defensively. Mr. Goldsmith made a loud
shhh
noise as he blew on a hot meatball.

"So, besides music," Mr. Goldsmith said, setting down the fork, meatball and all, "how is your

family? Tessa?"

"Still at Berkeley," Ash said, remembering how Tessa used to love getting into debates with

Jake's dad about non-teenage topics like politics and religion. "Studying philosophy."

"Oh, your father must love that," Gigi said, the words sounding harsher than she'd probably

intended. Ash knew she thought his dad was a dick for leaving him alone in the house. He'd

been lying out by the pool one day with his headphones on and heard Mrs. Goldsmith over the

fence, telling one of her friends on the phone how she'd like to give Gordon Gilmour a piece of

her mind, leaving a growing teenage boy to fend for himself. Ash remembered thinking he'd

have loved to hear Gigi rail on his dad. Gordon could string together a creative swear

combination, but Jake's mom could outgun him any day of the week.

"Yeah," Ash said, rolling his eyes so that Gigi knew they were on the same page. "He asked

her what philosopher has ever made any money, and she told him Bob Dylan. That sort of

ended that."

Jonathan laughed heartily. "Tessa was always a gifted debater. How is school going for
you
,

though?"

Ash took a sip of the bitter iced tea Gigi had made. "I don't think anything I tell you about me

and school will be half as good as what Jake can say."

Brendan laughed through a mouthful of meatball. "Yeah, nerd," he chided Jake.

Ash shot him a look. "No, I mean with the movie."

Gigi plastered a smile on her face that Ash could tell was fake. "Jacob knows what I think. I

think he should make school the priority, not Hollywood." She sighed. "But since when does a

mother know what's best for her child?"

Across the table Jake's hazel eyes bugged out in Ash's direction. Ash had clearly talked his

way into a conversational minefield. "Jake's working with that Grant Isaacson dude...." It was

all he could think of.

"Little prick turned down my proposal to do his publicity," Gigi muttered into her wine.

"Ma, he doesn't even need you," Jake said. "Today, these three girls--which of Myla's friends

again, Ash?"

"Billie Bollman, Talia Shepard, and Fortune Weathers. All totally crazy for that guy. And

probably a little crazy," Ash chimed in, grinning at Jonathan, who was listening intently.

"Yeah, them," Jake said, sounding excited. "They left a plate of cookies from Sweet Lady Jane

outside his trailer door. And he was completely terrified."

Ash leaned forward, getting into the story. "Well, of course he was. They'd had all of them iced

with his face. And they were hiding behind the bushes with binoculars watching him as he

picked them up."

"He didn't even eat them," Jake said. "He doesn't do sugar. It screws up your system." He

looked meaningfully at Gigi, who'd finished eating and was sorting discriminately through a

box of See's Candies on the counter. Apparently, Jake's mom was still in the diet mode she'd

been in six years ago: Scarf candy at night in private, guilt herself through a day of bland food,

repeat.

Dinner wound down with the whole family helping to clear the table. Ash loaded the

silverware into the dishwasher and Jake's mom--maybe because of the two glasses of pinot

noir she'd had with the meal--threw an affectionate arm around him. "You've always been such

a sweetie." As everyone headed back to the table for dessert, Gigi held Jake back and

whispered something to him.

Because even Gigi's
whisper
carried, Ash could hear her. "I can't believe he's alone on his

birthday," she said. "I was thinking we could..." Ash couldn't hear the rest because Brendan

started playing drums on the table with his silverware, looking out the corner of his eye to see

if Ash was impressed with his percussion.

Jake came back to the table, Gigi just behind him, carrying a sheet cake from Whole Foods. A

faint blue imprint of the words
Congrats to Our Star, Jake!
was still visible, but she'd spelled

out
Ash! 17!
in M&M's. As she placed it on the table, she looked almost guilty, ran to the

kitchen, and came back with candles.

"We were celebrating Jake's big role," she said, sticking the candles into the chocolate icing.

"And reminding him that his family thinks he's a star, even if we disagree with his choices and

even if the movie is a bomb."

Brendan chuckled. "Ha, loser," he said, looking at Ash. "I'm calling him DVD. As in 'direct to

DVD.'"

Jonathan's jaw clenched, every hair of his beard looking tense. "C'mon, Bren. If Jake's movie is

a hit, you'll be taking credit. Success has one hundred parents, but failure is an orphan."

Brendan pursed his lips petulantly, the softness of his chin becoming apparent. Jake's dad's

"rabbi with a touch of Buddha" made for guilt trips worse than any normal parent could

deliver. Ash chuckled along with Jake, and they shared a glance across the table.

"But Jake said he agreed your birthday was more important," Gigi continued, putting the

candles in at odd angles.

Jake shook his head earnestly, his face turning red.

"Thanks, man," Ash said, as Jake shrugged.

Gigi lit the candles and everyone stood up, save for Ash, who Gigi instructed to stay seated.

As they sang, Ash tried to focus entirely on the moment. They asked him questions, and cared

about his interests, and made him feel like he was worth listening to. The Porter-Goldsmiths

were being nicer to him than his own father.

Ash blew out the candles and Gigi cut the cake, serving pieces all around. Taking a quick bite

of cake, Jake stood up from the table. "Sorry, Ma," he said. "I have to go meet Miles about this

physics project. And I just told you, sugar screws you up."

"More for me then," Gigi said, kissing him goodbye. Jonathan patted his back. Ash had just

witnessed Jake getting more parental affection in ten seconds than he'd had all year.

"More for you, too, Ash," Gigi said, setting a continent-size piece of cake in front of him as

Jake slipped out the door. Once everyone had a piece, they resumed eating, but the chatter of

conversation was gone, and the only noise came from the screech of forks across dessert

plates. Ash looked up to see Gigi, Jonathan, and Brendan smiling at him generously across the

table. He felt like some straggly dog the Porter-Goldsmiths had found and brought home and

were now watching to make sure he ate something. The person who'd invited him had left; this

was definitely what they called overstaying your welcome. He took three fast bites of cake,

wanting to get out of there as soon as he could without being rude. He was feeling too much

like a charity case without any family of his own.

Jonathan gave him his opening. "Ash, my boy, you must have some big things going on for

your birthday tonight. I still remember when Jacob came home wanting to be a jockey after

your dad took you all to Santa Anita."

Ash suppressed a smile. He'd been ten and his dad had taken him and his friends to learn how

to bet on horses. As nuts as it was, Ash had thought Gordon was the coolest dad in the world.

Once.

"Ha, yeah, I remember that. Jake even bought that pink jockey hat," Ash said. "He kept

insisting it wasn't pink, it was magenta, and a royal color."

"Oh God, how did I not know this?" Brendan said, running from the kitchen, probably in

search of Jake's hat.

"But I do have to go," Ash said, backing toward the door. He wanted to go to the one place that

always felt like home. "Thank you guys for everything."

He'd decided to take Myla up on her invitation to stop by.

Right now.

LAST IMPRESSIONS

"Okay, so what about Olivia Abdabo? Miss I Think I'm Donatella Without the Bad Tan?" Jojo

pointed one Lotus Rouge-painted fingernail--chip-free, thank you very much--at the pretty face

with deep-set eyes staring up at them from the pages of the BHH yearbook.

Myla laughed. "That's not bad. A little on the long side. Total head case. Like, camping-out-infront-of-the-Jonas-Brothers'-house head case. She made a whole purity outfit to show her

devotion to teen abstinence and sat there overnight, until the cops came. For weeks after, she

ate and drank nothing but white foods, just to show her dedication. A few weeks later, she lost

her virginity to a senior in the Young Republicans Club."

Myla and Jojo were in Jojo's room, going through old yearbooks. They weren't reminiscing,

though. They were in the middle of a lesson, titled "Knowledge Is Power." Myla never forgot a

juicy slice of gossip. While the rest of BHH moved on to the next thing, Myla kept every

foible, flaw, and weakness stored in the Eames file cabinet that was her brain.

Now she was teaching Jojo everything that could be taught about their classmates' lowest

points over the last few years. Much as she liked gossiping with Myla in the privacy of their

house, Jojo couldn't imagine herself using any of the information publicly. Myla could do

whatever she wanted; she'd reigned at BHH for years. And she'd probably ruled her junior

high, grammar school, and preschool before that. But when Jojo told Myla she didn't think

she'd ever use all this dish, Myla had said, "People say they won't use algebra either. It's the

concepts that are important. And the concept here is, Everyone has a weak spot." So Jojo

contented herself in bonding with her sister. And she had to admit, gossip here was way more

interesting than gossip back home.

Jojo flipped forward a few pages, and her eyes immediately landed on Jake Porter-Goldsmith.

She giggled unintentionally. "That's Jake? Oh. My. God." He must have been about twentyfive pounds thinner last year. His face was narrow, his neck so long and thin it looked like he