Hollywood Hills (14 page)

“So you’ve decided to join us mere mortals,” Seamus said, crossing his arms over his chest and then glancing at Holly. “What do you say? Should we genuflect?”

Alexa couldn’t believe it when Holly actually giggled. Gritting her teeth, she fought back the urge to snap at them both; instead, she marched over and positioned herself in front of the twins photograph, telling herself to remain civil. After all, if she wanted to soak in all this inspiring photography, she’d have to simply grin and bear Seamus’s and Holly’s attitudes.

Well, maybe she didn’t have to literally
grin.

“Why
did
you change your mind?” Holly asked, sidling up to Alexa. Though Holly was still a little sore toward her friend, she was pleased that Alexa had
deigned to show up. Though Seamus had been considerate and thoughtful as ever, he’d also been far too absorbed by the boring photo exhibit, and Holly knew she couldn’t confide in him about her exhilarating morning at UCLA—
or
her sudden sparring with Tyler. Only Alexa could help Holly make sense of the confusing, clashing emotions that the fight with Tyler had stirred in her.

“Well, it wasn’t because of either of you,” Alexa responded icily, turning to glare at Holly and then Seamus. She about-faced and studied a photograph of a giant towering over his parents. “I spent the morning taking pictures on the beach, so I decided to come see how another photographer—one that I love—sees the world. Okay?” Alexa paused, surprised at the words that had come rushing out of her, almost without her own accord. She was rarely so candid about her thoughts on photography.

“Ah, then let us not disturb the artiste’s concentration,” Seamus stage-whispered to Holly, and Alexa pursed her lips. She refused to satisfy him by responding.

Holly sighed; now that enough time had passed, she felt bad over what she’d said to Alexa that morning, and wished she could clear the air between herself and her friend. However, Seamus’s and Alexa’s sniping
was not helping matters. Holly was certain that if she ever got the two of them to have an actual conversation, they’d find that they had stuff in common. She was opening her mouth to suggest that they all move to the outdoor café for lunch when her cell
brring
ed loudly in her bag. Instantly, the nearest hypervigilant security guard appeared at Holly’s side, scolding her for bringing a phone inside the museum. It was obvious that the guard had had the same showdown with one too many cell-addicted Hollywood types.

“Be right back,” Holly muttered to Alexa and Seamus, turning to leave the gallery. She pressed the silent button on her phone, and checked the screen. It was Tyler calling.
Great.

As Holly walked away, Alexa looped her fingers through the belt-holes of her slim-fitting Bermudas, willing herself to keep ignoring Seamus. She could feel him studying her with that same bemused expression. “You’re an Arbus fan?” he asked, and Alexa was positive that he sounded surprised.

“Well, my favorite photographer is Robert Frank, especially his book,
The Americans
,” Alexa replied, once again wishing she could stop being so forthcoming around Seamus. “But I guess Diane’s a close second. Even if that Nicole Kidman movie was kind of weird.”

“I wrote my thesis on Diane Arbus in college,”
Seamus replied. “My whole argument was that she was really a journalist, a photographer-journalist, in a way, and—whatever—” He cut himself off and shook his head, straightening his glasses. “I was such a dork.”

“Well, not much has changed, has it?” Alexa retorted, shooting Seamus a sideways glance; in truth, though, Alexa thought the idea of writing a paper on photography sounded kind of cool, and she’d long dreamed of majoring in art history.

“You’re a paradox, Alexa,” Seamus replied, clearly unruffled by her remark. He gestured to the camera Alexa had kept around her neck, where it swung against the rose-colored tank she’d cinched in the middle with a big-buckled, bronze belt. “You spend the morning taking pictures, but then you put on heels and makeup. Not many true photographers play the part of a girly-girl so convincingly,” he continued, his voice deep and thoughtful. “See, maybe the thing is, Alexa, that under that carefully constructed veneer,
you’re
a dork.”

Alexa’s lips parted as her skin flooded with heat.
How dare he?
Not for the first time, Seamus reminded Alexa of Holly—of the way Holly could boldly pinpoint, as she had that very morning, Alexa’s most secret, deep-down fears about herself.
Those two deserve each other
, Alexa thought venomously, wishing
Holly would return from her phone chat. But, through her fury, Alexa also felt the smallest shiver of joy;
a true photographer
, Seamus had called her, somewhere in between all those other insults. Those words gave Alexa a quiet jolt, the same jolt she might feel if a stranger shouted her name on the street. Like someone had recognized her.

“You can’t presume to know everything about me, you arrogant jerk,” Alexa finally replied, crossing her arms over her chest and narrowing her eyes. She saw no need for niceties.

To Alexa’s surprise, Seamus nodded, looking sheepish. “Good point. After all, you don’t know everything about
me.
Actually…” He paused and straightened his glasses again. “There’s something I should have told you and Holly—”

“Alexa.”

At the sound of Holly’s voice, Alexa whirled around to see her friend reentering the gallery. Holly’s freckled cheeks were very pink and her cell phone was clutched tightly in her hand. Alexa felt a rush of concern, wondering if the call had brought bad news from home.

“I think I need to go,” Holly said, sounding more frustrated than upset as she neared Alexa and Seamus. “Tyler’s being all weird…We kind of got into this fight before, and he says we should talk when I can be
alone.
” Holly blew her bangs up with a sigh. “Tyler’s my boyfriend,” she explained, looking apologetically at Seamus.

Quickly, Alexa also glanced at Seamus to see if jealousy might be flashing across his face—she was still certain there was something brewing between him and Holly. But if Seamus was writhing in envy, he didn’t show it. He merely nodded, furrowing his brow. “Do what you have to do, Holly,” he said understandingly. “Thanks for coming to meet me in any case.”

“You can stay if you want,” Holly said to Alexa, her gray-green eyes wide. “I’m going to take the Hybrid back to
El Sueño
and call Tyler from there.” Alexa noticed that Holly was twisting her new ring around and around on her finger, a sure sign she was worried.

For a second, Alexa looked back at Seamus—who was watching her with an unreadable expression in his eyes—and then at the photos she hadn’t seen yet.
I can’t stay
, she decided. Even though Holly had upset her that morning, Alexa still wanted to help her friend deal with what sounded like some potential drama. Alexa shrugged at Seamus by way of good-bye, and he shrugged back.

“I guess I’ll see you girls,” he said, lifting his hand in a wave.

No, you won’t
, Alexa thought as she turned to leave the gallery with Holly. Tomorrow would be their last
full day in LA, and the girls wouldn’t have time for anything but wedding preparations before the big event. Alexa felt a prickle of sadness at the realization; their visit was almost over.

When she and Holly stepped out into the sunshine, Alexa glanced over her shoulder into the gallery, but she couldn’t spot Seamus anymore. She guessed she would never find out what his deep, dark secret had been.

“Call him now,” Alexa recommended as she and Holly breezed through the canyons, the late afternoon wind catching their hair. “It’s obvious you want to.” Alexa shot a sidelong glance at her friend, who was sitting tensely beside her in the passenger seat. Ever since they’d left the Getty, Holly had been clutching her cell to her chest. In Alexa’s opinion, Holly was too attached to that phone. On all the trips they’d taken together, its presence had caused nothing but trouble.

“I don’t know,” Holly said, flipping open her phone to study the background—a close-up of Tyler, grinning after a lacrosse game. Her stomach twisting, she thought back to the quick, tense conversation they’d had on the Getty’s terrace; usually Tyler got over their fights pretty quickly, but this time he’d seemed cold.
Holly assured herself that it was probably just a bump in the road of their relationship, one that would be smoothed over quickly. “He said I should only call him back when I was by myself,” Holly added, looking up at Alexa.

“Please,” Alexa snorted, easing the car over a speed bump. “I so don’t count. I mean, you’d fill me in regardless, right?” Alexa peeked at Holly again, and smiled, deciding to forget about their own clash that morning—for now, anyway. “Speaking of which,” Alexa said, turning the car toward the famous Mulholland Drive. “What are you guys fighting about? I thought everything was all peachy in Holly-Tyler Land.”
Except for that bicker session at my mom’s party,
Alexa added silently.

“So did
I,
” Holly groaned. “Though I hope you don’t actually think of us in those scary terms,” she added, grinning at her friend, and suddenly grateful to have her there. “This morning, things got strange,” Holly went on thoughtfully. “When I called him from UCLA, I was having a great time, and I sounded all giddy and maybe he was worried that—”
He wasn’t the one making me happy
, Holly thought, surprised by her own thought.

“
You?
” Alexa teased, raising her eyebrows in mock shock. “Holly Jacobson, giddy about…
Los Angeles
?” Alexa smiled, watching the curvy road ahead, as Holly
laughed in sheepish agreement. It had been increasingly clear to Alexa that Holly was actually sort of loving LA. Lately there had been a brighter sparkle in Holly’s eyes, and a melodic, hopeful timbre to her voice whenever she spoke about the city. Alexa wondered if Tyler had picked up on the changes in Holly as well, which would explain his weirdness. Tyler Davis was not a big fan of change.

As Alexa steered the car along the twisting, clifflike edges of Mulholland Drive, Holly sat up straighter, drew in a deep breath, and then pressed 1 on her cell phone to call Tyler. A blur of mansions and a dizzying view of the valley flashed by beneath them, and Alexa bit her lip, fully expecting I-hate-heights Holly Jacobson to have a panic attack beside her. But it was obvious that Holly was preoccupied with bigger problems at the moment. “Sweetie,” she was saying into the phone, her voice taut. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, thanks for calling right back, baby,” Tyler said, his tone gentler than it had been a few minutes before. “Are you alone now?”

“Totally,” Holly lied, shifting in her seat as Alexa helpfully turned down the volume on a vintage Red Hot Chili Peppers song on the radio. “Are you?”

“Yeah. I’m in my room,” Tyler said, and Holly instantly pictured him on the edge of his bed—the bed she’d lain on so many times—surrounded by his
posters of sports heroes, safe and secure in the home he’d always known, while she literally teetered on the brink of a cliff. But Holly realized that she didn’t feel unsafe where she was. And she wasn’t that homesick for Oakridge—or Tyler.

“So,” Tyler continued, and the seriousness in his voice made Holly even more nervous. “I, um, felt like we ended things kind of abruptly earlier, and I wanted to explain a little more about why I—I kind of exploded like that.”

Explain?
Holly thought, gazing down at the stomachdropping view.
Not apologize?
“That would be good,” she replied cautiously, still unsure where this conversation might take them; it felt as unpredictable and dangerous as the road Alexa was driving along. “I had no clue that you’ve been sort of…pissed at me…” she trailed off.

“I’m
not,
” Tyler replied quickly. “It’s just—I guess there’s something I keep thinking about, and I guess it kind of came out in a weird way before. You know?”

“Not really,” Holly replied truthfully, shooting Alexa a he’s-being-confusing look. Alexa, keeping her gaze on the sharply zigzagging road, made a sympathetic face. “Tell me about it,” Holly added. Her boyfriend could be so reserved, so reticent, that often she had to draw his thoughts out of him slowly, like cotton candy from a spinning machine.

Tyler let out a long sigh. “The thing is, Holly…I’ve had a lot of time to myself this week, with you being gone and all.” There was a note of accusation in his tone, and Holly set her jaw, feeling a knot of irritation form in her chest. “And I haven’t wanted to bring this up with you,” Tyler went on, “because I know you’ve been having so much fun…”

“Tyler. Come on. I’m not having fun right now.” Holly exhaled noisily, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Alexa’s lips twitch with a smile.

Tyler cleared his throat. “I keep thinking about that conversation we had the night of Alexa’s mom’s party—you know, before you left for LA? When you said you didn’t want to make too many plans because you were feeling suffocated?” His words spilled out in a rush now.

Surprised, Holly held on to the bottom of her seat as the car bounced along a pebbly road; though she hadn’t forgotten about that fight with Tyler, she hadn’t had too much time to dwell on it, what with all the activity in LA. Closing her eyes, Holly called up Monday night in New York, which seemed to belong to another lifetime.

“I never said
suffocated
,” she protested after a minute, opening her eyes. But as she spoke that word now, Holly realized that it perfectly described what she’d been feeling back home—as if all her obligations
were pressing down on her like great weights, squeezing the breath out of her. Being away from that pressure this week, she’d almost forgotten the sensation.

“Maybe not,” Tyler responded quietly and cleared his throat again. “But when I started talking about college and our future, you got this look on your face like you wanted to…escape.”

And I did
, Holly thought, looking out the windshield; she and Alexa were now approaching the Pacific Coast Highway, and the great orange orb of the sun was beginning its descent into the flat, shiny Pacific. In a rush, Holly realized how wonderfully free she’d been feeling in California. For once, her parents weren’t breathing down her neck; there was no Coach Graham expecting her to show up at a track meet; and, if Holly was totally honest with herself, there was no homebody, play-it-safe boyfriend to dissuade her from going out to explore and dance and laugh.

At that last thought, Holly caught her breath, and felt a wave of something like fear wash over her. What was she
thinking
? What was happening?

“And,” Tyler was saying into the phone, no hesitation in his voice now; Holly got the distinct feeling that he’d read her thoughts. “Ever since you’ve been in California, it seems like you’re finally getting to do all those…
spontaneous
things you’ve always wanted.
Without me. You know, like hitting up big-time celebrity parties, and chilling with that guy Seamus—”

Oh, no. Tyler Davis had
not
just gone there.

“Hold on,” Holly snapped, her face flushing so hot she felt
she
might explode. “Tyler,
please
tell me you don’t think—Seamus is a
friend
—how could you—” Her indignation stole the words out of her mouth. She noticed Alexa glance briefly at her, braking behind a jet-black Porsche.

“Look, I’m not saying anything,” Tyler responded swiftly. “But…well, I know sometimes when we’re apart, you can get a little…crazy.”

Another bolt of fury shot through Holly, and she gripped the cell so tight she knew her knuckles were turning white. She understood exactly what Tyler was referring to, and it made her throat close with hurt. Last month, not long after they had gone all the way for the first time, Holly had broken down and told Tyler about kissing Alexa’s hot cousin, Pierre, in Paris. Tyler had been understandably upset, but his brooding had lasted for only a few days, and then he’d assured Holly that he forgave her. Still, Holly couldn’t help but wonder if Tyler might begin to grow suspicious of her nonetheless. And here was living proof.

“Tyler Maxwell Davis.” Holly spoke slowly and deliberately, even though her arms and legs were
shaking. “If you knew me at all, you’d know I’d never do anything like that again. Just because you’re—you’re
jealous
or something of the fun I’m having on this trip, does not give you the right to…” To her growing frustration, Holly felt warm tears well up in her eyes. Alexa reached one hand out to rub her shoulder, but nothing could comfort Holly now. “Suspect me of…” she whispered, her voice breaking.

“Oh, God, Hol,” Alexa murmured, not caring if Tyler heard her or not. It was obvious something major was going down between him and Holly.

Tyler tried to backtrack. “Holly, it’s—it’s not that I don’t trust you,” he began haltingly. “But I want you to tell me if you ever feel like I’m…holding you back or something.”

As Alexa steered the car up the hill to El Sueño, Holly felt her chest shudder, even though she wasn’t sobbing yet. “You’re not holding me back,” she murmured, all the while remembering how Tyler had talked about their living together at Rutgers, how he’d laid out the plan of their life as neatly as a grid. Holly was struck by an image of herself perched on a cliff above the ocean, ready to jump, while Tyler tugged on her arm, warning her of dangers ahead. “You’re just…cautious,” she added, fidgeting uncomfortably in her seat.

“You used to be cautious, too,” Tyler replied, and
Holly knew the muscle in his cheek was jumping as he spoke. “You’ve changed.”

Holly’s Claddagh ring felt ice-cold on her hot finger, and she touched it, trying to stir up the joy she’d felt when Tyler had given it to her on Tuesday. But, thousands of miles away, it was hard to even envision Tyler’s handsome face. And even though they’d spent spring break on different continents, Holly had never felt more distanced from her boyfriend than she did at this moment. “Why—” Her voice came out hoarse, and the tears hovered on her lashes. “Why did you give me the ring then, if you felt this way about me?”

“Wow,” Alexa said under her breath as they approached Jonah’s sprawling estate. She cast a sidelong glance at Holly; her cheeks were splotchy and her mouth turned down at the corners.

“Holly. Baby.” Tyler’s voice was heavy with worry in Holly’s ear. “It’s not like that. I just wanted to bring up this one issue. Things have been awesome between us—”

“No, they haven’t,” Holly snapped, fresh anger momentarily squelching her tears.
Awesome.
Suddenly she was sick of that word, of Tyler’s need to always smooth matters over. “If they were,” she continued, her voice softer, “we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Maybe, for some time now, she and Tyler had been avoiding that very truth with apology hook-ups,
with
sweeties
, and
babys
, and professions of love. Could it be?

A chill ran down Holly’s backbone. She didn’t know what to think. In a matter of minutes, her world had been split open, clean as a watermelon, and nothing made sense anymore. Her head was spinning in confusion as Alexa pulled the car to a stop in front of the guesthouse. “I can’t talk anymore,” Holly told Tyler abruptly. “I need to think. About everything.”

“Okay,” Tyler said softly. “Um, say hi to Alexa.”

For a second, Holly wondered if her boyfriend—who was often more perceptive than he seemed—had known that Alexa had been at Holly’s side the whole time.
Whatever.
She told him goodbye, slapped the phone shut, and promptly burst into tears.

“What happened?” Alexa cried, alarmed. She put the car in park, and then rifled through her denim Balenciaga clutch for tissues. “Did you guys break up?”

“No, of course not.” Holly sniffled, and blew her nose in the tissue Alexa handed her. But suddenly she was thinking of the earlier talk she’d had with Tyler, back at UCLA.
Sweetie, I think we’re breaking up
, she’d said when his voice had faded out. Holly swallowed hard. In a way, bad cell connections were like bad emotional connections—full of misunderstanding, distance, and frustration. As another shiver went
through her, Holly wondered if she’d known something, deep down, during that conversation that she hadn’t been able to admit to herself.

We’re breaking up.

The thought was too impossible to bear, so Holly flung open the car door and leaped out, not caring if Jonah or Esperanza or
anyone
saw her in tears.

Which, of course, was precisely why Jonah Eklundstrom appeared at that very instant, coming out of the main house. He was trailed not just by Esperanza, but also by Margaux, her fiancé, Paul, a slender, dark-skinned man in a pink polo shirt talking on a cell phone, and a tall, broad-shouldered boy with curly brown hair and a mischievous look on his face.

A boy who eerily resembled—was it?—no—it
couldn’t
be—

What would surfer Zach from the beach being doing here, at El Sueño? Had he somehow tracked her down to thank her?

Too distracted to care, Holly whirled around and sprinted for the guesthouse, faster than if she were running a race.

Alexa jumped out of the car, intending to follow her distraught friend. But she could see Jonah, Margaux, and their entourage advancing toward her, and she didn’t want to cause more of a scene than necessary. Besides, the small stab of nerves she felt
when she spotted Jonah kept her rooted to the spot for a moment.

“Alexa!” Margaux, who was clearly back from her ashram visit, waved both arms, her skull charm bracelet jangling. “Come meet Vikram, my wedding planner,” she added, and gestured to the man in the pink polo shirt. It was obvious that Margaux had no idea what had happened between her brother and Alexa the night before.