A Little Less than Famous (25 page)

After I was done being made to look camera ready, they drove me out to some park, where everything was all set up already. Wendy was nearby for touch-ups and there were plenty of assistants with water bottles and snacks for me, if need be. The entire situation was surreal. There was an old picnic blanket set up on the ground. I was directed over to it, where I was instructed to sit with my legs crossed.

The photo shoot ended up being a lot harder than I had previously imagined. I had thought that I would show up, smile and they would take a few pictures. Boy had I been wrong. First off, I wasn’t comfortable. I
was
holding my neck in a weird angle, bending my legs in strange ways, or straddling tree branches. Secondly, smiling was out of question. I looked like I was smiling for a Sears’s portrait, or so the photographer said. I had to look fierce or pensive or sexy or playful…and none of that was as easy as it sounded.

Then they gave me a puppy to play with…for the photo shoot. It was hard to look cute and sexy and playful and whatever when you had a rambunctious puppy crawling all over you or running around chasing bugs or looking for the perfect spot to take a pee.
Don’t get me wrong; I wanted to him home but he was not easy to work with.

Needless to say, I was exhausted by the time the photo shoot was over. We drove back to the
TEEN!
Building
where I changed into something more comfortable. And by more comfortable, I meant ridiculously expensive True Religion jeans and a loose black Burberry top, the price tag of which nearly made me faint. This was too ridiculous for words.

I was driven back out to the diner, where the journalist from TEEN! was going to be interviewing me. It was the one stipulation I had. If I was going to be interviewed (which was already too weird to begin with), I was being interviewed where I was most comfortable.

Erin Lennox was sitting in the Audrey Hepburn table. I crossed the room, waving nervously at Frank and Oliver. I slid into the booth, smiling. Erin looked up, looking way too excited to see me.

“McKinley! Hi!” she said, extending her hand across the table to me. “You look adorable. Is that Burberry?”

I looked down at the blouse, feeling self-conscious. “Um, yes, I think so,” I said. I laughed. “I’m still learning all these fancy brands.”

She laughed as well. “I’m sure! I’m sure you’re learning all kinds of new things.”

“You can definitely say that,” I agreed.

She reached into her large tote and pulled out a small recorder. “Do you mind if I record this?”

I shrugged. “Not at all.”

So, McKinley, what’s it like…going from a waitress to the hot new guest star on
Crime Scene?
”

I paused for a long moment before answering. I was stalling for show. To my surprise, I had learned that stars didn’t just do interviews on the spot. There were always pre-interviews, where the questions and the answers were gone over to see what was allowed and what wasn’t. For instance, I made sure that no mention of Jake or my mom was allowed. “Weird,” I said, finally. “It all sort of happened by accident. I’m still trying to process what’s happening.”

“Were you a fan of
Crime Scene
before?”

“Yeah, definitely, who isn’t?” I said. “I’ve always been a huge fan of the show. It has a fantastic cast and the story is so addicting. And I’ve always had a huge crush on Cam Daniels.”

Erin raised her eyebrow. “Oh? Cam? And what about Mr. Jake Kennedy?”

I tensed up at the question but tried to keep my smile on. I looked over at Adrienne, who pursed her lips. It hadn’t taken long at all for them to break our agreement. I had talked to an intern at TEEN! for my pre-interview so I tried not to be mad at Erin. Adrienne opened her mouth to say something and I shook my head. “What about him?” I asked.

“Well, you’ve been dating him for awhile now and everyone is dying to know what its like!”

I opened and closed my mouth a few times. “Its great. Jake is a fun guy, great…” I swallowed before I said “great in bed”. This was a teen magazine, after all. I needed to be appropriate, which wasn’t always an easy thing for me to do, even when I was a teenager. “He’s just great.”

“Rumors are afloat that you have some steamy scenes with him on the upcoming episodes. Is he a good kisser?”

“Yes,” I smiled. “But he is a much better kisser in real life. On camera, it’s so weird. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

The interview went on for another hour or so. I steered the conversation away from Jake as much as possible and talked about the diner, and jazz, and my favorite books.

A few weeks later, the magazine hit the newsstand, a photo of me, looking way hotter than I probably was, graced the cover. It was one of my favorite shots, where I was lying on my back on the blanket and the camera had been above me. My hair was fanned in a great mess around my head and I was looking kind of off camera, a very small smile on my face. My eyes were heavily lined with black eyeliner and my lips were a deep red. I looked amazing and not at all like myself. Everyone in the diner had celebrated and Oliver had even blown up the front cover to be hung behind the counter. Sometimes I found myself staring at, as if I couldn’t actually imagine it was me.

Jake was introducing me to a world that I could hardly even imagine. We were hitting movie premieres and charity events and we’re always at some club or some VIP room at a restaurant. We hardly ever stayed in; everywhere we went, people treated us differently. Doors were opened; strings were pulled. We made appearances everywhere. A couple days after my photo shoot, Jake dragged me out to a Laker game.

I didn’t want to go and I told Jake repeatedly I didn’t want to go. The seats that Jake had gotten were insanely ridiculously priced and were so close, there was no way anyone was going to miss us…and there was no way that I could sneak in a book and read. I told him he was better off bringing Luke, who would actually enjoy the game. Instead he pushed and pleaded, even had Adrienne send me a text message about what a good appearance it would be for the two of us. There had been some negative press going on, just some minor stuff, about a blowout between Andrea and I on set. It was blatantly untrue, and Corinna had responded as such but it would look good for us to go to the Laker game, looking as if rumors didn’t bother us at all. It bothered me a little, especially after learning that the beginning of his relationship with Andrea was based on appearances but I let it go.

So I went. I grumbled the whole way there, hating that I looked too dressed up for a basketball game. I was in a
V-neck
black shirt, tight grey jeans and calf high boots. What I wanted to wear was a t-shirt, normal jeans and a pair of vans but I was voted down. Every appearance, even an unofficial one, was important. It could end up in
US Weekly
or on
Entertainment Tonight
and I needed to always look presentable.

We were escorted through a separate door, away from the crowded doors where Jake was sure to be recognized by the tons of people lining up for the game. They took us through the arena, taking us to our seats, which were literally courtside seats, folding chairs set up parallel to the ones set up for the players on the other side of the court. 

“They’re not going to ask us to play, are they?” I asked, nervously, feeling like I was too obvious and exposed in this spot.

“Huh?” Jake asked, taking a beer from a young girl dressed in all black.

“We’re so close to the court. I was asking if we’re part of the team now.”

Jake laughed, tossing his head back.  “Do you realize that you say some of the most ridiculous things sometimes?”

I scowled, turning away from him and facing the court, my arms folded tight across my chest.

“Hey,” Jake said, scooting closer and putting his arm around me. “That’s not a pretty face for the cameras, now, is it?”

I threw an exasperated look at him but I could feel the corners of my mouth turning upward. He grinned, leaning forward to give me a kiss and I turned into it. That was one thing I wasn’t going to say no to.

He pulled back, his smile even wider than before. “Yeah, that’s much better.”

A couple of the players came by and said hi to Jake, slapping hands and fists in some kind of complicated handshake. I was introduced and a couple of the guys actually knew who I was. They were all huge; they made Jake look tiny and I felt extremely insignificant all of a sudden, especially after Jake explained how good they were.

I spent the first half of the game confused and bored. Every time I tried to pay attention to what was going on, I just got lost and couldn’t understand. I stood up once it was halftime, ready to go to the concessions to grab myself something to drink. I couldn’t really admit that I wasn’t entirely excited on seeing the Laker Girls dancing in their skimpy outfits right in front of my face.

“Where are you going?” Jake asked, looking up at me.

“I’m thirsty,” I said.

He gave me a funny look. “Sit down, weirdo. They’ll just bring you one.” He motioned for someone to come over and told him to bring me a Coke.

“Oh,” I said, sitting back down, feeling a little foolish.

“Are you having fun?” Jake asked, his arms sliding around my waist and, yes, his eyes completely glued to the cheerleaders who were mere feet away from us. I rolled my eyes but let it go. Jake was having a fantastic time, and seriously seemed in his element. He was wearing his black Lakers hat and chatting with people around him. Already we had made small talk with Jack Nicholson and Mark Wahlberg and even Ben Wright, who I hadn’t known was a Laker fan. That was one of the only times I had perked up.

I, on the other hand, felt extremely out of place. For one thing, I didn’t really understand the game. I mean, sure, Luke is the one who raised me and he is definitely a huge Laker fan. But I just never showed much interest in the game. I was too busy rebelling for so long and then when I did settle down and start to find my own interests, it was books and jazz that I turned to.

Another reason I felt really uncomfortable was because this was the first time I felt like a normal person in the celebrity world. I was comfortable at parties; all I had to do was blend my way in and I didn’t really have to talk to anymore because it was too loud to talk to anyone. Then there were the premieres and red carpets where I was ushered from place to place and I answered questions I had already answered a dozen times before. Those were too chaotic to worry about anything else. This time I was face to face with real, known celebrities and it was intimidating, especially since Jake was so comfortable with it.

“Yeah,” I answered him.

Jake raised his eyebrow at me. “I know when you’re lying, McKinley Evans.”

“I’m not lying. I’m having a really good time,” I said, my eyes wide. He stared at me for a moment longer and I caved in. “I just don’t really get what’s going on more than half the time.”

He gave me a look as if I had surprised him. “That’s fine. Here, I’ll explain it.” The third quarter had just started up and the players were hitting the courts. Jake leaned close to me, and helped to explain the basics of the game. He was extremely patient, spelling out some of the tougher points of the game and explaining each and every foul that was called. I’ve seen some of Amanda’s boyfriends getting impatient, trying to explain baseball or football or basketball to her. Jake was so good about it, even though sometimes he missed good plays while he was explaining something to me.

By the fourth quarter, I was bouncing up and down in my seat, cheering every single time the Lakers scored a basket. Jake was watching me with a bemused expression especially when I started booing every time the opposite team, the Thunder, shot free throws. I high fived Jake every time there was a good play, or what I understood to be a good play and started having serious fun. 

The Lakers ended up winning the game. Jake exchanged high fives with Mark and I saw Ben tossing a couple thumbs up my way. A couple of the players came by and gave high fives to Jake and I once again felt that surreal feeling of disbelief that this was actually happening, that I was getting a chance to see this world and to be a part of it.