(i.e., anybody famous), she was taking advantage of her alone time with Cisco. I was a third wheel on a deserted island. How perfect. Really, I might as well have been invisible. She was one of those girls. And she made that awful model mouth expression to accompany her constant whining.
J:
Eve Larkin sucks. Remember the hair gel diet rumor about her? I can totally see it.
F.
“What are you doing?” Eve suddenly asked me, snatching my phone out of my hand mid-text. “Does your phone work?”
“Hey,” I yelled, trying to grab it back. “Give it to me.”
“Yvette? Hello? Hello? Yvette?” She cried into the phone after frantically dialing a number and turning away from us.
Cisco and I stared at her.
“It’s dead,” she snarled, uselessly pressing the send button. Her back was turned to me. “What are you doing with it then?”
“Texting a friend. Give it back.”
“An imaginary friend?”
“Whatever, it’s a habit.” I was relieved that she didn’t read what I wrote about her. Though she certainly would have had it coming. She was beastly.
“Sorry,” Eve whined as she turned and handed me my phone back. “I thought maybe you were getting reception. I really need to talk to my manager so I can fill her in on the hundred and twelve humiliating ways I’m going to destroy her career for getting me into this mess.” Just like that, she turned her attention back on Cisco and emitted a little guinea pig giggle. She reached up to the dark bruise on Cisco’s face with a phony look of concern.
“It really hurts,” he winced.
“I think it’s just bruised.” Eve was fingering Cisco’s cheek and sitting as close to him as was humanly possible without being swallowed. I wanted to scratch her big fish eyes out. I was staring at my phone but listening to every word.
“Anyway,” Eve said in her faux accent, “it can be camouflaged before you start shooting. When I got that nasty case of poison ivy before the ’01 Academy Awards, my skin looked absolutely flawless during my acceptance speech.” Eve paused, seemingly waiting for some sort of a response from Cisco. He didn’t say anything and just continued rubbing his cheek with a worried expression on his face. Eve took this as a cue to keep talking.
“Thank God for Gina. She’s a makeup magician. I mean, I almost committed suicide after those pictures of me taking out the trash without makeup showed up all over the tabloids. The press was ruthless.” She laughed self-consciously. “But isn’t it always.”
“You were like twelve when you won the Academy Award, right?” I asked, even though she wasn’t talking to me. “You wore foundation when you were twelve?”
“I did when I had poison ivy all over my face! Maybe it sounds superficial to people like you ,” she paused, looking at my hair with horror and searching for my name, “but skin is the essential ingredient for an actor. I just don’t feel myself with even a small blemish.”
“But this freckle is cute,” Cisco said, pointing flirtatiously to an itsy bitsy mole on Eve’s upper lip.
“Oh my Gaawd,” Eve shrieked, momentarily forgetting she was supposed to be British as she pulled away, buying her face in her hands dramatically. “I tried to have it removed, but all the doctors said it would leave a scar!”
“Chill, it’s cute. Freckles are cute,” he said.
She looked over at me and winced sympathetically. Freckles are not cute. I was the evidence.
“Freckles are fine for others , but I won’t permit them.”
“Anyway,” Cisco continued, “I totally hear you. That’s why I’m worried about this,” he said, caressing his cheek. “I mean, I don’t really care about the way I look, but everyone else does, right? And I can’t exactly wear makeup for the World Environmental Conference I’m hosting with Gore on the twentieth.” Cisco stroked his face thoughtfully. “Oh man, and I’ve got the Operation Smile rally with Reese on the
J:
Eve Larkin sucks. Remember the hair gel diet rumor about her? I can totally see it.
F.
“What are you doing?” Eve suddenly asked me, snatching my phone out of my hand mid-text. “Does your phone work?”
“Hey,” I yelled, trying to grab it back. “Give it to me.”
“Yvette? Hello? Hello? Yvette?” She cried into the phone after frantically dialing a number and turning away from us.
Cisco and I stared at her.
“It’s dead,” she snarled, uselessly pressing the send button. Her back was turned to me. “What are you doing with it then?”
“Texting a friend. Give it back.”
“An imaginary friend?”
“Whatever, it’s a habit.” I was relieved that she didn’t read what I wrote about her. Though she certainly would have had it coming. She was beastly.
“Sorry,” Eve whined as she turned and handed me my phone back. “I thought maybe you were getting reception. I really need to talk to my manager so I can fill her in on the hundred and twelve humiliating ways I’m going to destroy her career for getting me into this mess.” Just like that, she turned her attention back on Cisco and emitted a little guinea pig giggle. She reached up to the dark bruise on Cisco’s face with a phony look of concern.
“It really hurts,” he winced.
“I think it’s just bruised.” Eve was fingering Cisco’s cheek and sitting as close to him as was humanly possible without being swallowed. I wanted to scratch her big fish eyes out. I was staring at my phone but listening to every word.
“Anyway,” Eve said in her faux accent, “it can be camouflaged before you start shooting. When I got that nasty case of poison ivy before the ’01 Academy Awards, my skin looked absolutely flawless during my acceptance speech.” Eve paused, seemingly waiting for some sort of a response from Cisco. He didn’t say anything and just continued rubbing his cheek with a worried expression on his face. Eve took this as a cue to keep talking.
“Thank God for Gina. She’s a makeup magician. I mean, I almost committed suicide after those pictures of me taking out the trash without makeup showed up all over the tabloids. The press was ruthless.” She laughed self-consciously. “But isn’t it always.”
“You were like twelve when you won the Academy Award, right?” I asked, even though she wasn’t talking to me. “You wore foundation when you were twelve?”
“I did when I had poison ivy all over my face! Maybe it sounds superficial to people like you ,” she paused, looking at my hair with horror and searching for my name, “but skin is the essential ingredient for an actor. I just don’t feel myself with even a small blemish.”
“But this freckle is cute,” Cisco said, pointing flirtatiously to an itsy bitsy mole on Eve’s upper lip.
“Oh my Gaawd,” Eve shrieked, momentarily forgetting she was supposed to be British as she pulled away, buying her face in her hands dramatically. “I tried to have it removed, but all the doctors said it would leave a scar!”
“Chill, it’s cute. Freckles are cute,” he said.
She looked over at me and winced sympathetically. Freckles are not cute. I was the evidence.
“Freckles are fine for others , but I won’t permit them.”
“Anyway,” Cisco continued, “I totally hear you. That’s why I’m worried about this,” he said, caressing his cheek. “I mean, I don’t really care about the way I look, but everyone else does, right? And I can’t exactly wear makeup for the World Environmental Conference I’m hosting with Gore on the twentieth.” Cisco stroked his face thoughtfully. “Oh man, and I’ve got the Operation Smile rally with Reese on the
Similar Books
