Junie reads her text message, smiles, then thumbs in a reply.
“Is it Nick?” My heart speeds up. “What’d he say? Is he with Josh? How’s Josh?”
“He’s not with Josh.” Junie looks at the floor.
And that look speaks volumes. “But he was with Josh?”
“How do you do that?” Junie stares at me. “It’s like you get inside my head.”
“I don’t know exactly. I think partly it’s from hanging out with you for years and partly from learning to be an observant detective.” I fish in my purse for gum, slide out a piece, then toss the package at Junie. “So, what were Josh and Nick up to?”
“Josh phoned Nick.” She hands the gum back to me, without taking a piece.
“Because he’s überdepressed about breaking up with me and needed a friend to talk to?” I clasp a hand to my heart. “I almost feel a little sorry for him. It’s no fun going through a breakup.”
Junie sits unmoving like the stone statue of the saguaro cactus in the courtyard at school.
“Oh, I get it.” I unwrap the gum and pop it in my mouth. “He feels even worse now that we’re out here in California on the trip he gave up.”
Junie closes her eyes.
“What? What is it?”
“Josh called Nick because the high-school water polo coach needed someone to videotape a few scrimmages,” she says softly.
I slump down in my chaise longue, deflated like a day-old balloon. Josh isn’t überdepressed. He probably hasn’t wasted one fraction of one second missing me. I’d slide farther down the chair, but that would land me on the tile floor.
“Josh hasn’t figured out yet what he’s lost.” Beside me, Junie slumps in sympathy. “But he will, Sherry. I just know it.”
We sit in silence. I’m letting the waves of sadness wash over me, remembering my mother’s words about how this will pass and I’ll feel okay again.
Trapped in my own little world, at first I don’t notice the two teen girls skipping around the lounge until one of them laughs loudly. They’re checking out all the little sitting areas.
When they arrive at us, they stop. Both girls have chin-length brown hair, knit tank tops and short skirts. The kind of short skirt that’s against our school’s dress code. One of the girls has a ring through her nose and the cutest silver bracelet with a dog charm. The other has an eyebrow bar and lavender eye shadow. They’re wearing flip-flops with HOLLYWOOD HIGH SCHOOL stamped across the strap.
They glance at Junie, smile vacantly, then turn to me.
Eyebrow Bar Girl says, “Sherlock Baldwin?”
“Uh, yes.” I scoot to a sitting position. These people do not look even remotely familiar.
Nose Ring Girl squeals. “I can’t believe it’s actually you.” She punches Eyebrow Bar Girl in the arm. “It’s her. We found her. Yay us!”
Junie’s forehead is creased with a thick line of confusion. These girls don’t look familiar to her either.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “Do I know you guys?”
Nose Ring Girl’s eyes sparkle. “I’m Lorraine. I’m super happy to meet you.”
“I’m Stef,” Eyebrow Bar Girl says.
“How do you know Sherry?” Junie asks.
“Sherry? So cute!” Lorraine’s eyes sparkle. “Does everyone call you Sherry? Not Sherlock?”
“I only get Sherlock during roll call on the first day of school,” I say. “And when my parents are mad at me.”
“Same for me with ‘Stefanie.’ ” Stef nods.
“Why were you looking for Sherry?” Junie asks. She’s more suspicious of people, where I’m more open and friendly.
“To say congratulations,” Stef says.
“We love your essay about true love. Love it. Adore it. Dig it.” Lorraine tugs on the hem of her skirt.
I don’t mention there isn’t enough material for that skirt to stay decent for any length of time. “Thank you.” I feel kind of floaty and rock-starrish.
“I read the whole thing.” Lorraine beams. “And that’s saying a lot because I don’t read. Except for Dear Elle’s column.”
“With your essay, it’s like you’re talking straight to my heart.” Stef taps her chest. “Direct, honest, real. You so know your stuff.”
“Wow. Thanks.” I check my feet to make sure they’re still firmly on the ground. “I had to rewrite it a couple of times.”
“And your photo?” Lorraine sighs. “Adorable. Great makeup.”
“Thank you,” I say again. “I did it myself.” Who knew I’d have fans!
“Sherry’s essay wasn’t on the Hollywood Girl website the last time I looked,” Junie says. “I wonder when they went live with it.”
“Don’t have a clue.” Lorraine glances at Junie. “Sometime before lunch today. Because that’s when we read it.”
“Guess what else was on the site, Sherry?” Stef says.
“The scoop on Dear Elle’s diamond?” I feel my eyes go round like pizzas.
“A purse with a diamond clasp!” Lorraine says. “First time she’s brought it out in public.”
“It’ll be beyond beautiful,” I say.
Lorraine hitches her purse up on her shoulder, then mimes opening it as if it had a huge diamond clasp. The dog charm on her bracelet dances and glints with her movements.
“That bracelet is way cool,” I say. “Is it your dog?”
“Oh no, I don’t have a dog.” Lorraine turns her wrist this way and that. “This is my absolute favorite piece of jewelry.”
“Where’d you buy it?” I ask. “I wonder if they have any with a fish charm.”
“They don’t,” Stef says.
“Did you get it near here?” I ask. “I could always check.”
“She didn’t,” Stef says.
“Online?” I ask.
What’s the deal with the bracelet? Maybe Stef bought it as a gift for Lorraine. And maybe she got it for really cheap, and she doesn’t want Lorraine to know.
Pasted on Junie’s face is the look she gets when a math equation isn’t working out right. “Let me get this straight. You guys only came here looking for Sherry?” She lifts her shoulders. “What made you think she’d be here?”
“Well, we knew from the magazine’s website that the awards are at the Roosevelt tonight,” Stef says. “So we guessed she’d stay in this hotel.”
“And she looked super friendly in her photo,” Lorraine says. “And we’re down this way on Hollywood Boulevard a lot. So we took a chance and stopped by to say, ‘Hey, job well done!’ ”
Junie’s frowning, not really buying it.
It makes perfect sense to me.
“I just wish we could see you get your award.” Lorraine sighs. Then she immediately claps a hand over her mouth.
Stef rolls her eyes. “Sorry, Sherry. Sometimes Lorraine opens her mouth, and we don’t know what’ll fly out.” She glares at Lorraine.
Why shouldn’t they come to the awards? They’re my first fans. I bet Dad brought the envelope with the tickets. Hollywood Girl sent enough for my family and one for Junie. So Lorraine and Stef could use The Ruler’s and Sam’s.
“As it turns out, I have two extra tickets,” I say.
“Uh, Sherry—” Junie starts to say.
I cut her off with a wave. I know the tickets are for friends and family. But if I lived here, I’d be great friends with these girls.
Lorraine and Stef gaze at me with big grateful eyes. “I could tell from your photo that you were generous,” Lorraine says.
“More like crazy,” Junie mumbles under her breath.
I only arrived in L.A. a few hours ago, and I’m already making friends and getting famous.