Sunset Boulevard (9 page)

popular. Like, he even makes
Us Weekly
."

Jake sighed. "No way. He's too Hollywood, and a total pretty boy. Tommy's supposed to be

kind of normal and, like, not some guy who can get a different girl every night. Or maybe he

could, but he wouldn't. And, he's modest. Lewis wears clothes with his own picture on them.

He's the male Paris Hilton."

Miles sighed, leaning back in the chair and putting his feet up on the black table shaped like the

Batman symbol. "Okay, you're not gonna like this, but he's perfect.
Rod Stegerson
. He letters

in everything and went to state last year for basketball. And he's never had a girlfriend."

Jake almost threw up in his mouth at the thought of shadowing the meathead. "That guy is not

Joe Normal. Or Tommy Archer. He's a psychopath. And the reason he hasn't had a girlfriend is

that he terrifies people. He's like a bizarro version of Tommy. Rod is all darkness and fear, and

Tommy is... good. Like the kind of guy who's even nice to guys like us, just because that's his

style."

Jake had been thinking a lot about this--Tommy Archer was the guy he longed to be. It was

what his summer makeover had been all about. But the thing was, the more Jake tried to be a

cool guy, the farther he felt from the mark. It was like cool guys had mastered some secret

philosophy, and Jake had bought the wrong textbook.

"So couldn't you just study Rod and do the opposite?" Miles asked.

"What, and get my head shoved in a toilet bowl and 'homo' written on my locker? No. I'm done

for. We go to the most not-normal school in the world. That's why they said they cast me.

Because I'm so socially retarded from a Beverly Hills perspective that I'm the closest thing

we've got to a decent, popular jock. If we went to school in the burbs, I might be Captain Cool,

like Tommy. But if he went to BHH, Tommy Archer as we know him would never survive."

Miles shrugged. "Well, can you visit a school in the burbs?"

Jake could feel his first smile in days take over his face. It was so obvious. He could almost see

the solution spring from his head in a comic book thought bubble. "Miles," he said slowly, "I

have a better idea."

Sitting across from Jojo at a cozy sidewalk table, Jake hoped Ingrid's French didn't seem too

romantic. It was close to his house and school, and his parents came here on their dates, a

thought that made him even more nervous. If his mom and dad showed up while he was out

with Jojo, they'd introduce themselves and treat Jojo like she was the first girl Jake had ever

gone on a date with. Which, okay, she kind of was. But this wasn't a date. This was business.

The restaurant was on Santa Monica Boulevard, tucked just far enough from the street to make

you feel like you were in Paris, and not just under Century City's monolithic but architecturally

insignificant office buildings. Through the brocade curtains, Jake could see several older

couples dotting the tables inside the low-lit café.

"This place is nice," Jojo said, as Ingrid, a grand-motherly lady in a floral apron, set down a

ham-and-cheese crepe in front of her, beaming at them. "Way better than cafeteria food."

Jake nodded. "Yeah, I haven't been here since my mom's birthday in April." He cut a corner off

his turkey-and-spinach panini, relieved that Jojo was acting so casual. Jake had stopped by

Jojo's locker during a break in filming, pretending to be checking it for more graffiti, and

invited her to lunch off campus. Despite the cryptic invite, she'd accepted. She looked different,

somehow, more confident. Jake attributed the change to the fact that she was wearing a thighlength off-the-shoulder black sweater with white trim and black buttons down the sleeves, atop

a pair of white leggings and insanely high red open-toe heels. Missing was the hoodie that

she'd been hiding beneath earlier in the week. Her hair, which usually spilled over her

shoulders in a carefree way, was tied back in a sleek bun. Seeing the "new" Jojo, Jake had

feared she'd blow him off. But not only had she accepted the invite, she'd told him his powder

blue Corolla was "nice and cozy." Jake almost felt like he was getting away with something.

Girls so glamorous weren't supposed to be down-to-earth, were they?

"That's cool that your family has a usual place. I used to go to Sadie's Pizza with my dads all

the time. Did I tell you I have two dads? And Barbar, of course." Jojo felt like she was

rambling, which was definitely against Myla's rules.
Nerves,
she told herself. Maybe her

makeover would push her into princess territory with the rest of BHH. But Jake had known

her when she was just Jojo, hopeless new girl-slash-outsider. She didn't want him to think she

was desperate to fit in. She was just doing what she had to do to survive.

"No, I don't think so. Where are they?" Jake leaned forward when he asked her, like he really

cared about the answer, and Jojo wondered again why he'd asked her here. Not that she minded

having a lunch plan that didn't involve quietly chewing a sandwich in the recesses of the BHH

library. Jake was welcome company, especially since he looked so cute in his Tommy Archer

clothes, a tightish navy T-shirt with
Reavis Rams
emblazoned across the chest.

"Sabbatical, in Greenland. Thank biological parents for small miracles. I mean, I thought

growing up in Sacramento was boring. Me, tundra, and a town named Nuuk wouldn't exactly

qualify for living the dream."
And I wouldn't be having lunch outside with a cute guy,
she

thought, visions of the burly, fur-hatted Viking guys she and Willa had imagined muscling

their way into her head.

Jake smiled, half-pondering why it had never occurred to him to invite Jojo to lunch before.

Even though he'd convinced himself that Amelie was grounded and easy to talk to, he was truly

comfortable around Jojo, not just lying to himself because he had a crush. He almost felt bad,

knowing he'd invited her here with a goal in mind. And now he had his opening. "So,

Sacramento. Was it really that different from living here?"

"Let's put it this way. Every car in the BHH student parking lot probably cost more than my

dads' house. Except yours. In Sacramento, your car has, like, identical octuplets. Squared. No

offense to your car." Before she'd ever ridden in it, Jojo had felt comforted by the sight of the

Corolla, taking it as proof that someone at BHH wasn't completely obsessed with status. When

Jake had led her to it today, everything clicked--of course Jake was the owner of the only

normal car at BHH.

"Yeah, about Sacramento. I wanted to ask you about that guy, the popular one who you said

would never survive here?" Jake hoped he didn't sound like an idiot. When Miles had

suggested he visit a school in the suburbs, Jake had remembered what Jojo had said about

Sacramento's BMOC. If a role model for Tommy Archer existed, it had to be that guy.

Jojo bit her lip, and a slight flush crept up her face. "Justin Klatch?" She sounded shy

mentioning his name. Jake wondered if she'd had a thing for him. "Yeah, what about him?"

"Well, I'm trying to figure out my
Class Angel
character by basing him on someone real. But

BHH isn't exactly full of the kind of all-American, popular guys who everybody likes, you

know? And Justin sounded like he... is that guy?" Jake trailed off, realizing how ridiculous that

sounded. He wondered if George Clooney ever had to do this.

"Yeah, he definitely is," Jojo said, shyly toying with an orange slice at the edge of her plate.

Before Jake had asked about Justin Klatch, she'd briefly wondered if this was a date. But now

it seemed like he was just doing research for his role. She was surprised to feel a ping of

disappointment at the realization.

"What does Justin drive?" Jake asked.

Jojo noticed that Jake's hazel eyes had little flecks of green in them, like sprinkles on a sugar

cookie. Her face felt warm, as if Justin himself were the third guest at their table, listening to

the conversation. "Well, he has this cool blue Toyota Scion. It's the nicest car at our high

school, and that includes most of the teachers. But his dad sells cars, so he got a deal." Jojo

hadn't liked Justin for his cool car, though she had on several occasions pictured Justin pulling

up her driveway in it.

"He paid for it himself?" Jake looked surprised, probably because kids in Beverly Hills merely

had to exist to have cars presented to them. Jojo remembered that just because Jake didn't

exactly fit in didn't mean he wasn't part of this world. Sacramento was probably as foreign to

him as Beverly Hills was to her.

"Yeah, he worked in the body shop there over the summer. Not that I knew because I rode past

on my bike or anything." Jojo smiled sheepishly, picking nervously at the crepe's edge.

Actually, revealing her former semi-stalking ways wasn't that embarrassing. She'd caught Jake

studying
Fairy Princess
websites on the day they met. Now they were even.

"You liked him!" Jake wished he could put the exclamation back in his head, where it

belonged. He didn't want to embarrass Jojo when she was helping him. Still, if a girl like Jojo

thought Justin was worth spying on, it meant he was Jake's Tommy Archer. This was perfect.

She shrugged, not seeming annoyed at all. "Maybe, but that's unimportant. You need to know

why
I liked him. Why every girl at JFK liked him."

"He was probably built, right? Isn't that why girls always like guys?" Jake could almost hear

the
wrong answer
buzzer going off in his head. After all, he'd worked all summer to get built,

and he was still girlfriendless. And clueless.

Jojo rolled her eyes. "Way more than that. It's a whole lifestyle, the way of the Klatch or

something. Like, take Lewis Buford. If a girl dropped all her books in front of his locker, he'd

probably say something like, 'Wow, if you wanted to show me your ass, you could have just

asked me out' or something. Now, what do you think Justin would do?"

"Maybe stop to help her pick them up?" Jake said. It was what he would do, or would do for a

girl like Jojo. Other BHH girls would swim through mud before letting Jake help them over it.

Jojo nodded. "Yeah, exactly. You do the right thing, but always keeping in mind that you're not

obligated
to. And that's what makes the person feel special: You don't have to be nice to them,

but you're choosing to be." Jojo was surprised by how good it felt to actually be able to offer

advice on something. Just as Myla was the expert on getting respect at BHH, she was starting

to feel like the expert on what it took to be popular in Anytown, USA. And it was nice, too, to

think about her old school, her old life. It all seemed so far in the past now, like looking in the

rearview mirror.

Jake was practically taking notes, so she went on. "When you're doing your part, just think of

scenes with a girl like it's not that much different than being around a guy. But in your head,

you're thinking, 'She wants to kiss me.' And you don't let on that you might want to kiss her.

You're just chill in every situation. And not some guy who's only nice to see if you can hook

up with someone." Jojo knew from experience. The anniversary of Dropped Books Day, the

one and only time she'd been truly alone with Justin, was coming up. Justin's sweet assistance

as he corralled her spilled papers and books had launched her crush on him. But she'd never

had the guts to really flirt with him. "And when he talks to you, he smiles and never breaks eye