I’m out of here
ROCCO
I’m staying to meet the girl of my dreams.
Julie is serving herself some fruit punch.
JULIE (overhears)
Really, you shouldn’t reveal so much before we’ve even met.
ROCCO
I’m Rocco
JULIE
I’m Julie
Rocco takes Julie by the hand.
ROCCO
Palm to palm and lips to lips...
JULIE
Not so fast...Rocco. We’ve totally just met.
ROCCO
Then take my hand.
Julie takes his hand
And feel my heart
Julie feels his heart
And hear it beat for you
They kiss.
Okay, so we stopped the audition before the kiss.
Afterwards, when I was hanging around backstage, pulling on my jeans over my dancer’s tights, Mouche hastily scribbled on page three of her entry in the dating diary:
Auditions today!
Something weird is happening. Phoebe is a star and boys are noticing us.
It must be the ‘Guide for Young Ladies’ advice in chapter 2 – ‘feign disinterest’- that’s working, because Phoebe and I have been ‘feigning disinterest’ all week...and MARK KNIGHTLY and JET CAMPBELL have already spoken to us.
PS. Jet Campbell just handed me a note. It said:
Wanna go to Fall Fling together? Jet
He left his number. Does that mean I’m supposed to text him? Does that even count as a love letter? Mouche
Chapter 8
Teenage Aliens
‘Definitely, definitely do not text him first.
He has to make the effort and text you.
It says so here, in...I believe this one’s called,
The Rules of Young Adult Romance,’
I advised
.
We were sitting on banana lounges in the water, swerving Wednesday around in her tyre, trying to explain to her the things about dating no one ever taught us.
‘Of course you have to actually get a date,’ Mouche added helpfully, straightening Wednesday’s sunglasses.
That’s when I got a text that changed my day and interrupted the boy-rating diaries and our potential date-planning for at least a few hours.
‘Gotta move it Mouche – get off the couch potato zone and
bring it
...forget about school plays, I’m going professional.’
It was Thom, my theatrical agent. He used to run an agency called
Thom’s Kidz
but now it’s just called
Thomz Starz
since all his ‘kids’ are mostly teenagers (except Wednesday).
‘You mean?
‘You betcha...’
And in the space of an hour I’m preparing to ace my third professional audition. This time it’s a recall (which means instead of a thousand other teenage girls it’s between me and twenty others) for a part in the low-budget film,
Teen Alien
.
So I’m pulling on my best skinny jeans and painting on tooth whitener for the recall for a teen horror flick. Mouche is helping me find a suitable outfit.
I am pretty excited. I’ve forgotten all about Mark and the Princesses and school play auditions. Instead, I’m all fired up about driving into LA with Mouche. This will be the first time we drive to an audition without a chaperone. And I’m not excited just because I think I might get the part, or because going to Century City will be an excuse to gaze longingly at the surrounding movie studios, or even because I get to play someone else outside my comfort zone. No, I’m excited because I’m definitely on course for implementing the first of our dating strategies – meeting up with an older man (an eighteen-year-old called Matt). We used to take drama class together on Saturdays. I heard he is interning as assistant to the director on this film. He was a PA student at Sunrise High a few years ago. Now he goes to UCLA.
Mouche has offered to drive me to the Alien movie recall and do some window shopping before meeting me for lunch at Century City. ‘What are best friends for?’ she’d asked. ‘Besides, it all goes in the diary...’
Wednesday and Mrs Mouche were sleeping in. Wednesday was curled up at the foot of Mrs Mouche’s bed as her older daughter tiptoed out of the house that morning. They made a pretty picture.
I had stayed over but we hadn’t had much sleep because we were both extremely excited. Thom had tried to get Mouche to audition as well, but as she explained to him, ‘I’m sorry, no can do. I have decided to concentrate on school. Acting is not my forte anymore, Thom. I want to get my scholarship to NYU. Besides, I think I prefer real life.’
Perhaps Mouche had a point and it certainly helps to have a supportive friend, not just a competitive one. I’m not sure if the desire for the good fortune of a friend can outweigh envy, but I’m working on it. I’d almost forgotten about Mark Knightly and his hotness when Jet texted just before we left for Century City:
Mark is coming 2. Text address pick u both up @ 8pm next Saturday night. Jet. PS. Are you going to be in Santa Monica this afternoon? Wanna hook up with us?
‘How exciting,’ I said.
‘Mmm...it says in
Mrs Jones’ Guide
that, ‘
a boy should always make specific plans not vague notions about what he wants to do with you, and where he wants to take you...’
Mouche replied.
‘Even so, I can hardly breathe. Do you think this means they like us?’
‘Of course. But I think they could have been more specific...’
‘Well maybe they need direction...’
‘
Never make it easy for them
...Mrs Jones @ p.29’
‘Can you quit it with the Mrs Jones stuff for now? You should text them back and make plans for us. I can hardly think straight.’
‘That...is not cool. They can text us when they’ve thought of something. I don’t want to just hang out and let them think we are available anytime they suggest. Now, focus on your audition and let me do the planning...’ Mouche said. ‘Pretend I’m your stage mom,’ she added.
‘Okay. Besides, it’s not as if it’s
really
my date, since Jet only
officially
asked you. I’m there as a social photographer and Mark, well, who knows why he’s coming since he’s scarcely bothered to speak to anyone at school all week. But I’m sure we could make time to see them this afternoon...’
‘Okay, I will encourage them to suggest a proper date. Swimming might be good.’
‘That’d be...fun.’
‘You know, Mark did at least speak to both of us at school this week but who knows, maybe he’s gay for Jet?’
Mouche started laughing, she has a very distorted view of traditional relationships these days.
‘I’m just kidding. He’s
so
obviously straight. He could barely read the lines for Rocco when Mr Sparks made him stand in for Peter. He’s so clearly not artistic.’
We had arrived early for the movie recall and driven to Venice Beach to watch the waves lap onto the sand. Our families had visited this beachside suburb often when we were little and we had fond memories of it.
‘Just to change the subject, I totally want to buy a house here, overlooking the ocean, when I’m famous,’ I mused.
‘Definitely. We can live next door to each other. I’ll be your manager and do all your legals, and when you’re past it we can represent Wednesday and live off the proceeds.’
‘I’m thinking we should get started on that one. She’s very precocious already...’
Mouche laughed and said, ‘I’m just kidding...’
‘Well, if I don’t get this recall, I’m going to concentrate on school and our treasure hunt and saving for New York, so maybe we could be Wednesday’s stage mothers...after all, our own mothers are not exactly interested in show business.’
‘And maybe that’s a good thing,’ Mouche added. ‘I mean, at least we can never accuse them of trying to exploit us.’
The ocean looked really beautiful early in the morning. Venice was not quite as seedy as the boulevard made it look at sunset when all the stalls and skate boarders and card sharks and markets had packed up for the day. When we came here with Trish and Mrs Mouche last year, a little girl came up and asked me if I was on some television show. I was so flattered I even signed an autograph, although Mouche disapproved. I didn’t want to disappoint my adoring public by telling the truth.
‘You’re seriously delusional Pheebs,’ Mouche said.
‘No I’m not. I just have a good imagination.’
‘I think that’s why we’re friends,’ Mouche said. ‘I’m definitely the more pragmatic one.’