reached down, took off her ruined shoe, and threw it after him. She missed, though, which was probably a good thing. No need to add assault to her charges, too.
Kate eyed her cocktail with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. It looked delicious, but then the bartender had referred to it as a Nutty Bloody Scotsman, which had given her pause. It had whiskey and blood-orange juice or something, which sounded fine enough—but why nutty? Why bloody? Whatever happened to nice drink names, like the Tequila Sunrise or the Pink Lady?
She stirred the pinkish liquid with her cocktail stick and gazed around the dimly lit room. So far she and Gaby and Carmen and Madison were the only ones in it, unless you counted the bar staff and the PopTV camera crew. But the Library Bar at the Roosevelt was so tiny that it almost felt crowded.
Gaby had just filmed a spot here for her new job as the host of some late-late-late-night party-and-lifestyle show, and Trevor took the opportunity to get two scenes out of one location by gathering the whole cast here after Gaby’s shoot and turning it into a girls’ night out. It was the first time they had filmed all together since the premiere, and Kate was nervous. (That was how she’d ended up with the Scotsman: “Surprise me!” she’d told the bartender.) Things were tense with Carmen and awkward with Madison, and being able to have a satisfying conversation with Gaby was never guaranteed.
She snuck a glance at the exit. What if she just pretended like she didn’t feel well? Would Laurel let her leave? It was doubtful. Plus she hadn’t faked illness since third grade, when her mom stopped falling for it.
So Kate reached for her drink and bravely took a sip. She turned to Gaby, who was sitting next to her. “Not bad!” she said brightly. “Actually, it’s pretty good. What’s yours?”
“I got a Bad Habit,” Gaby said. “I don’t know what’s in it, though.”
“A Bad Habit? That’s appropriate,” Madison noted. “If only your glass had a picture of a tattooed guy on it.”
Gaby sniffed. “I don’t only date guys with tattoos,” she said. “It’s just—what’s that word?” She looked pensive for a moment. “A coincidence. It’s just a coincidence.”
Carmen laughed and tried to meet Kate’s eyes, but Kate looked away—not out of anger so much as confusion. Now that a little time had passed and practically everything in her life felt different, exactly how mad at Carmen was she? Kate had been ignoring her texts and messages because she wasn’t sure how to answer that question. A moment later, her BlackBerry buzzed. The text was from Laurel. TRY NOT TO LOOK LIKE UR BEING TORTURED.
Right! This was fun, wasn’t it? Girls’ night out!
Kate thought of the first time she’d gone out with her castmates, when filming had only just begun. That was the night she met Sophia, who was now officially part of the Fame Game lineup, although in a supporting role (which Kate knew annoyed her). It was also the night she’d met Luke Kelly.
Almost imperceptibly she shook her head: Best not to go down memory lane. Best to focus on what had changed for the better rather than for the worse. For instance, her wardrobe. Granted, she still needed helpful texts from Laurel (DRESS CUTE: MAYBE NEW NUDE DRESS & GIVENCHY BOOTIES?), but still. The old Kate wouldn’t have even known what Givenchy booties were. It was a miracle Luke had spent more than a minute with her.
Gaaah, stop thinking about Luke, Kate told herself. But the fact that she couldn’t was what made things still weird for her with Carmen. Carmen probably saw Luke every day, either at work or on a fake date. Of course, after Kate learned that the two had history, their attraction seemed a little less fake.
She fixed a bright smile on her face. Her job was to make conversation and have enough fun to fill four minutes of airtime, max—how hard could that be?
She took a deep breath and dove in. “So, Madison, I saw your picture in Life & Style the other day,” she said. But then she bit her lip in dismay. She was such an idiot: How could she have forgotten that the editors had Photoshopped Madison into a prison jumpsuit? Kate coughed loudly and tried to recover. “Your hair looked amazing,” she gushed. “Aren’t you the spokesperson for Joolie heat-styling spray?”
Madison nodded slightly as she crossed one slim, tan leg over the other. “I have a lot of endorsements,” she said. “Unlike some people.” Her eyes darted toward Carmen.
Carmen smiled slyly at this. “And maybe, thanks to your work at the shelter, you’ll get even more. Like, for a pet product or something,” she said.
Madison scoffed. “Weren’t you the face of that zit cream a couple of years back, Carmen? Of course, that wasn’t so much an endorsement as it was a testimonial, because no one had any idea who you were without your mom by your side.”
Kate saw Carmen’s cheeks flush. She’d had no idea that Carmen had done commercial work; she always seemed so … indie.
“TV ads pay great,” Carmen said, her voice sharper. “If you do enough of them, you can afford to buy your own diamonds.”
Madison inhaled and stiffened. Kate waited for her to say something, but she didn’t. She just turned away and took a sip of her pink-tinged drink.
Awkward, Kate thought. Suddenly the already-small room felt claustrophobic.
The exchange had quickly put a damper on whatever goodwill the girls had managed to build up, and now no one was saying anything. Well, if tense silence was any interest to Trevor Lord, he’d have plenty of it, Kate thought. Maybe he’d have Carmen do a voice-over. We were all supposed to go out and have fun, but Kate and I weren’t talking, and Madison certainly wasn’t in a party frame of mind…. At least we had Gaby to lighten the mood.
If the whole thing weren’t suddenly so uncomfortable, Kate would have smiled to herself. Who knew what this night would look like when it appeared on the nation’s television sets? All she knew was that right now it was pretty unpleasant.
Kate didn’t understand, really, why it had to be like this. Sure, Madison had been sort of snubbing her. But she obviously had a lot on her mind. It wasn’t like Kate ignoring Carmen’s texts—Kate knew she hadn’t done anything to upset Madison. And Carmen was probably exhausted from filming, which was why she was being sort of bitchy. But what, really, was Kate’s own problem? What did she have to complain about? She had a hit TV show and a hit song: She ought to feel a little better! Why in the world couldn’t she just relax and enjoy herself? Tell a joke or a funny story?
She cleared her throat and started to say something, but then stopped. The fact was, she had her own anxieties to worry about, besides making pleasant small talk. For one thing, Trevor had told her that she was going to have to play some real shows one of these days. “Open mics aren’t for people with top-selling singles,” he’d pointed out. “We’re getting you an actual gig.” Thinking about that made her feel sick.
And for another thing, this whole interpersonal stuff was tricky. It seemed like all of her castmates had secrets and touchy spots. Skeletons of various sizes rattling around in their walk-in closets. With Natalie, everything had been so easy. They trusted each other implicitly. But with these girls, Kate felt like she never knew what they were really thinking.
“So, have
