the net, and Nick stopped it with his paddle before scooping it up. “One serving two,” he repeated, then dropped the ball to the table, swiping a sideways shot that bulleted over the net and bounced too low for me to touch with more than a paddle tip. It pinged into the crowd and hit the back of Brooke’s carefully mussed waves.
“Hey!” she shrieked and strode to the table. Her fiery glare engulfed us. “This is my video shoot, not a tournament. You two take your places. Kayla, you’re in the back by the wall, and Nick, you’re next to the piano with me. Got it?”
Surprise. Pushed to the background with the Munchies, the Wanderers, Hannah and me. Not that I minded. It was my preferred place to be.
Everyone else jostled near the front, some at the Ping-Pong table, some on a couch by the TV, others, like Brittany, near the piano. She taught a small group the dance moves she’d tried out on the beach last week. They all wore shredded, tie-dyed T-shirts, faded jean shorts, and matching friendship bracelets and hairbands, many of them ones I’d made.
“NIA!” Brooke screeched and her fan club scurried over, makeup bag in hand. “I need more blush. And where is my bowl of pink M&Ms?”
“Still working on that, Miss White.” Nia dabbed at Brooke’s cheeks while Nick looked on. He leaned against the piano, his lanky form drawing every female eye, including mine. He shook back his dark bangs, the move giving everyone a view of the angular, handsome face that papered billboards in Times Square.
Gollum shoved his video camera at Julian, whispered something, then hustled to the door. “I’ll get them, Miss White,” he called. “Emily, you’re in charge.”
Brooke ignored our camp director and knocked Nia’s hand away. “How am I supposed to work in these conditions?” she stormed. “You’re all useless!”
“Could you say that again for the benefit of our ‘making-of’ video,” drawled Julian, aiming Gollum’s camera in her direction. “I’m sure your fans will want to know the real Brooke White.”
Hannah’s laugh rang out, happy and sharp. “Exactly. Why should we be the only ones with that privilege ?” I covered my mouth and held in a giggle. She really was funny. If only I dared friend this new Hannah.
Brooke blocked the camera with her hand and hissed, “Turn it off now, Julian.”
“Mr. Woodrow said to keep it rolling while he was gone.”
“Fine,” huffed Brooke. “Then record this. Nia, hit it.” Nia hooked an iPod to a small speaker and Brooke’s latest song, “Seven Minutes in Heaven” filled the room, the thumping beat drowning out the barely there lyrics. Brooke sat down at the piano and pantomimed hitting the keys, her mouth perfectly lip syncing the words. At one point she stood, took Nick’s hand, and pulled him close, kissing him long and deep.
I tried not to squirm as they did take after take of that shot, jealousy surging through me. I hated seeing Nick kiss another girl. And it didn’t help that every time they stopped, Brooke sent me a victorious smirk, followed by an almost apologetic stare from Nick. At one point, our eyes clung so long that Brooke grabbed Nick by the jaw and forced his face her way. “Hey. We could be here all night if you don’t put some real effort into this.”
I turned away when he raised an eyebrow at me. If he wanted my opinion or approval, I had no clue why. From the look of it, he wasn’t kissing her the way he’d kissed me. His hands stayed at his sides and his lips left hers the moment Julian yelled, “Cut.”
I wondered if the camera made him nervous, which seemed unlikely since he posed for it all the time, or self-conscious in front of everyone else. He used to be shy like me. Maybe some things about Nick had stayed the same.
“Last take.” Nick dipped Brooke low while the dancers whirled and grooved around them. I looked away, unable to bear seeing him with her anymore. Gollum caught me before I slipped
“Hey!” she shrieked and strode to the table. Her fiery glare engulfed us. “This is my video shoot, not a tournament. You two take your places. Kayla, you’re in the back by the wall, and Nick, you’re next to the piano with me. Got it?”
Surprise. Pushed to the background with the Munchies, the Wanderers, Hannah and me. Not that I minded. It was my preferred place to be.
Everyone else jostled near the front, some at the Ping-Pong table, some on a couch by the TV, others, like Brittany, near the piano. She taught a small group the dance moves she’d tried out on the beach last week. They all wore shredded, tie-dyed T-shirts, faded jean shorts, and matching friendship bracelets and hairbands, many of them ones I’d made.
“NIA!” Brooke screeched and her fan club scurried over, makeup bag in hand. “I need more blush. And where is my bowl of pink M&Ms?”
“Still working on that, Miss White.” Nia dabbed at Brooke’s cheeks while Nick looked on. He leaned against the piano, his lanky form drawing every female eye, including mine. He shook back his dark bangs, the move giving everyone a view of the angular, handsome face that papered billboards in Times Square.
Gollum shoved his video camera at Julian, whispered something, then hustled to the door. “I’ll get them, Miss White,” he called. “Emily, you’re in charge.”
Brooke ignored our camp director and knocked Nia’s hand away. “How am I supposed to work in these conditions?” she stormed. “You’re all useless!”
“Could you say that again for the benefit of our ‘making-of’ video,” drawled Julian, aiming Gollum’s camera in her direction. “I’m sure your fans will want to know the real Brooke White.”
Hannah’s laugh rang out, happy and sharp. “Exactly. Why should we be the only ones with that privilege ?” I covered my mouth and held in a giggle. She really was funny. If only I dared friend this new Hannah.
Brooke blocked the camera with her hand and hissed, “Turn it off now, Julian.”
“Mr. Woodrow said to keep it rolling while he was gone.”
“Fine,” huffed Brooke. “Then record this. Nia, hit it.” Nia hooked an iPod to a small speaker and Brooke’s latest song, “Seven Minutes in Heaven” filled the room, the thumping beat drowning out the barely there lyrics. Brooke sat down at the piano and pantomimed hitting the keys, her mouth perfectly lip syncing the words. At one point she stood, took Nick’s hand, and pulled him close, kissing him long and deep.
I tried not to squirm as they did take after take of that shot, jealousy surging through me. I hated seeing Nick kiss another girl. And it didn’t help that every time they stopped, Brooke sent me a victorious smirk, followed by an almost apologetic stare from Nick. At one point, our eyes clung so long that Brooke grabbed Nick by the jaw and forced his face her way. “Hey. We could be here all night if you don’t put some real effort into this.”
I turned away when he raised an eyebrow at me. If he wanted my opinion or approval, I had no clue why. From the look of it, he wasn’t kissing her the way he’d kissed me. His hands stayed at his sides and his lips left hers the moment Julian yelled, “Cut.”
I wondered if the camera made him nervous, which seemed unlikely since he posed for it all the time, or self-conscious in front of everyone else. He used to be shy like me. Maybe some things about Nick had stayed the same.
“Last take.” Nick dipped Brooke low while the dancers whirled and grooved around them. I looked away, unable to bear seeing him with her anymore. Gollum caught me before I slipped
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