Sunset Boulevard (29 page)

state, he felt like a new man. As he'd rolled up to the club in his Escalade, people had stared.

He'd signed a few autographs and then been whisked to a private table. All summer, he'd

dreamed of being a whole new Jake. And now he'd become that guy, and he was better than the

version of himself he'd imagined.

Tired or not, Jake had to go out tonight. He was heading to the first party he'd been properly

invited to in his whole high school career. Better yet, it was in his honor: All of BHH had been

invited to a
Class Angel
wrap party at the Transnational lot.

"Jacob, come down for dinner before you go," Gigi hollered up the stairs. "I feel like we

haven't seen you in weeks."

Jake rolled his now-depuffed eyes. It wasn't like he was partying
that
hard. The other night,

he'd crept in past two after the Wiltern show. His mom had been sitting on the couch in her

pajamas, staring at the door. Her hair was all messy, and she'd breathed a sigh of relief when he

came in. He'd been so annoyed to see her sitting there, waiting to guilt-trip him--guilt was more

her style than grounding. But couldn't she see his life was changing for the better? Instead of

hanging out with Miles in his room, wishing they had something to do, he'd been out for a

change. And with a girl. His girlfriend. Who happened to like nightlife. His mom should be

proud, or at least understanding. Jake took the stairs slowly, estimating he could spend twentytwo minutes with his family before he absolutely had to leave.

His mom had gotten all his favorites from Tuk Tuk Thai--beef pad see ew, spicy basil-fried

rice, and a few curries. He sat down at the table in a huff, not taking anything.

His brother, Brendan, shook his head annoyingly. "Dude, you got your period?"

Jonathan, Jake's rabbi dad, gave Brendan his
shut the hell up
look. "Bren, you haven't seen

your brother all week. Let's have a little peace." Jake already felt ready to get out of there. The

kitchen felt so small. And he'd wasted sixteen years of his life eating here every night, when

there was a whole world outside his door where you didn't have to tell your old, uncool parents

how your day had been, or eat the same food from the same neighborhood Thai restaurant all

the time.

Brendan shoved a spring roll into his mouth. "Just making conversation." It was the same

response he gave every time Jonathan scolded him for insulting Jake. Jake rolled his eyes.

Gigi powered down her cell and stuck it in the no-calls-during-dinner bowl. She surveyed its

contents and saw Jake's wasn't there. "Jake, phone in the bowl."

Jake shook his head. "Can't. I might get a call about tonight." Most of all, he wanted to keep his

eye on the clock.

Gigi sighed heavily, sitting down to her plate of chicken lemongrass salad. "Fine, but if you do,

step away from the table."

"I'd rather step away from the table now. I'm still not sure about this blazer," Jake said, petting

the lapels of a Diesel jacket he'd bought with Kady. With her constant energy, Kady would be

even more bored than Jake at the idea of sitting down for a family dinner. Her parents still lived

in Connecticut, and Kady rented a suite at the Chateau Marmont.

Gigi and Jonathan exchanged a
what has come over him?
look, but let it pass. "You look

handsome." Gigi reached out to ruffle Jake's hair, but he dodged her hand. Brendan laughed

through a huge mouthful of curry.

"Handsome is for old guys," Jake protested. "I want to look hot."

"When you find the bassackwards place that calls you hot, send me a plane ticket," Brendan

said. Gigi slapped his wrist. Jake, who usually shot Brendan dirty looks for his remarks, just

poked at the plate his mom put in front of him. Arguing with your little brother was immature.

He was past that.

"You're just nervous," Gigi said. "It's a big night for you. It's going to be awfully hard when

the real world rears its ugly head again. I bet you've got loads of homework to do over the

weekend." She affectionately tickled his elbow. Jake flinched away from her in irritation.

"Oh my God, Mom," Jake said. "I've been to events before." Since their first official date at the

Polaroid House in Malibu, Jake and Kady had been seen at every new club to open in

Hollywood. Anything older than six months was already over, Kady had told him. Before the

movie, he'd barely realized so many clubs existed.

"Of course you're edgy," Jonathan piped up, patting Jake's shoulder. "Why else would you not

be eating? It probably doesn't help that you've been staying out way past curfew. I know we

gave you some leeway with the movie, but let's shoot for a reasonable hour tonight."

Jake shot a look of scorn around the room. "First, you seriously think I'm going to bloat myself

on Thai takeout before getting my photo taken all night? And second, the party is for
me
. I can't

leave just as it's getting started."

Gigi shoved her chair back violently from the table, grabbing one of the dumplings that were a

no-no on her chicken-veggie diet. She bit into it, chewed, and swallowed angrily. Spying the

keys to Jake's Escalade on the counter, she picked them up. "Are these the keys to that earthdestroying truck of yours? The one you're going to return first thing tomorrow?"

"It's called an Escalade," Jake said. "Don't insult it. And it's staying."

Gigi flipped the keys around on her finger. "You know what, Jacob? We have a word for

people like you in this business." She leveled him with one of her scary stares, but Jake felt

impenetrable. "Douche. Bag."

"Go, Mom," Brendan said, lifting a spring roll victoriously. "She just called you a douche bag,

Jake!!"

"That's two words, Mom," Jake said, ignoring Brendan. He stood up, towering over his mom.

He reached for his keys, which were looped around Gigi's index finger. "What can you do?

Ground me? I have my own earth-destroying truck. Oh, wait, it's a
Cadillac
."

Gigi opened the oven, which made a creaking sound from lack of use. She tossed the Escalade

keys inside and then slammed the stove shut. She leaned against it. "Not tonight, you don't. Go

to your room."

Jake glared at her, his whole body trembling at the idea of missing the wrap party. "Fine," he

said, storming up the stairs. There was no way he'd accept his punishment. He shouldn't have

to suffer because his parents didn't understand his new life. For two people who claimed they

wanted him to be happy, they sure weren't acting like it.

By the time he'd reached the top step, a plan had come to him. He still had his Corolla. It was

no Escalade, but it would do.

He walked into his room, locked the door, and shoved a long box of comics against it. He

could use his student ID to jimmy the lock when he got home, or he could always crash at

Miles's. He arranged his pillows in a Jake-like shape under his comforter and eyed the

window. He had no trees to aid his escape, and he didn't have time to tie a bunch of bedsheets

together. It was only a twelve-foot drop, though. And if he climbed out and held on to the

windowsill backward, it would only be a six-foot jump. Easy. He'd learned a lot from his
Class

Angel
athletic and stunt work.

He opened the window, his jacket shoved into a pillowcase so it wouldn't get ruined. Pocketing

the Corolla keys and clutching the pillowcase between his teeth, he backed out the window,

gripping the sill, and extended his body down. He glanced at the ground and let go.

He landed perfectly on the balls of his feet. He crept around the house in the direction opposite

the kitchen window, to his car, thankfully parked along the curb down the street--something

he'd done to make room for the Escalade, which he now looked at wistfully. If only he could

have pulled up in
that
car.

He slid into the Corolla's driver's seat, started it, and pulled away. So he had to drive the

Corolla. He'd committed his first real act of teenage rebellion. And even a hand-me-down

Toyota started to look hot when it had a driver like him.

GIRLS GONE AWRY

"Is that him, there? No, it's just Ed Westwick," Amelie said disappointedly.

The party was almost two hours in, and so far, Grant was a no-show. Looping a strand of red

hair nervously around her finger, Amelie scanned the crowd gathered under the cast and crew

tent, an open-air canopy with a ceiling of white mesh fabric and lined with golden twinkle

lights. Not that she cared what Grant did, but Amelie could feel her already-tenuous grip on her

BHH friends slipping. Talia's eyes darted back and forth like those on one of those cat clocks

with the swinging tail. Billie tapped her gold Moschino crisscross sandal against the pavement.

And Fortune made no effort at covertness as she checked the time on her BlackBerry Curve.

Grant had never shown up at last night's soup kitchen event, even though he'd been listed as a

potential guest on the press materials. The girls had
not
been pleased at four hours of

community service--dressed in skimpy white angel gear, no less--without Grant there as a

reward, and seemed to think it was all Amelie's fault.

Tonight, they'd come to the
Class Angel
wrap party with her, probably figuring that Grant

would
have
to show up here and
have
to hang with the
Class Angel
people at least a little while.

So far, they'd figured wrong.

Amelie searched the crowd in vain for Grant. "Isn't that Parker Pinelli, talking to Ed?"

The girls' eyes collectively shifted to follow Amelie's gaze. Parker, a recent BHH grad who'd

gone on to land a bunch of big Hollywood roles, was a cross between James Franco and James

Dean. He looked handsome tonight in a pair of jeans and a black blazer--classic L.A. male

style. Talia smiled sympathetically, as if Amelie was a sad loser for thinking Parker could

possibly substitute for Grant. "So Amelie, you're not coming to BHH?" Clearly apathetic about

the answer, Talia plucked the maraschino cherry from her Seventh Heaven cocktail--Bombay

Sapphire, grapefruit juice, and a sprig of mint--and popped it in her mouth.

"No, it doesn't sound like it," Amelie said sadly, toying with the ribbon trim along the neckline

of her sleek, short black organza shift dress. "I'll probably be doing more
Fairy Princess

episodes, and I heard there might be a
Class Angel
sequel."

"At BHH?"

"With Grant?"

Billie and Fortune's necks seemed to lengthen with their excited questions.

"I don't know." Amelie shrugged, feeling more and more alone even as the tent grew more

crowded. She'd known that her BHH friends' interest had been about Grant at first, but she'd

really thought they'd started to like her. She'd hoped to stay friends after she returned to life as a

sheltered, tutored teen star. But between last night's soup kitchen fiasco and this party, the

chances of that were fading as fast as Tom Cruise's chance for an Oscar.

Amelie glanced around the tent again, praying for a Grant sighting. Instead, she saw Kady and

Jake holding hands, getting their picture taken beneath a giant halo made of gold foil-wrapped

Godiva chocolates. She quickly looked away, wishing she could be anywhere but here.

"What do you say we ditch this party? Maybe order takeout at my house?" Amelie asked