Hollywood Hills (22 page)

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Authors: Aimee Friedman

Tags: #Fiction

BOOK: Hollywood Hills
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Alexa let out a sigh of pleasure, admiring his beautiful hazel eyes, which looked different now without the glasses. There were so many things she hadn’t seen about Seamus, but she felt as if she were waking from a long, long sleep. And as Seamus tilted his head and started kissing her again, long and deep, Alexa understood that she
was
capable of being in love. Or being in like, to start small. Her previous hook-ups and heartaches didn’t matter, not when she was close to Seamus like this. Maybe it was time to let her past fall to the ground, like hair snipped by scissors.
Boys don’t
always
cause drama
, Alexa realized. Sometimes, they could even help a girl get over hers.

Resting her head on Seamus’s shoulder once more, Alexa scanned the glowing tent. Zach was on the stage, singing his heart out to Holly, who looked overjoyed. Alexa did a double take when she saw Esperanza in the far corner, kissing a groomsman with
wild abandon. Nearby, Jonah was twirling around a contrite-looking Charity Durst, and Alexa wondered if the two of them would end up back together. And Margaux and Paul were in the center of it all, dancing and kissing, oblivious to the world.

Holly had been right: There
was
something about weddings…

Alexa lifted her face to kiss Seamus again. She wasn’t sure what the next day would bring, but for the moment, in this rose-strewn tent under the starry Hollywood sky, things felt pretty close to happily ever after.

CHAPTER TWELVE
Life, Camera, Action

The word
DELAYED
flashed on the computer screen, hurting Holly’s bleary eyes. According to the slightly blurry True West website, the airline strike was over, but Alexa and Holly’s eleven a.m. flight to Vegas was delayed until later that night.

This was all Holly’s sleep-deprived brain was able to process as she sat on the guesthouse’s living-room floor in her boxers and tank, Alexa’s laptop balanced on her knees. Fuchsia bags of wedding swag—which each contained a gift certificate to a Malibu spa, a box of Godiva chocolates, and, lamely, a pre-released
Grit and Gravel
DVD—were on the floor beside her, and her and Alexa’s shoes lay in a tangle by the door. The scent of wild strawberries and roses lingered.

It was eight in the morning, and both Holly and
Alexa had totaled about a half hour of sleep. Margaux’s celebration had raged until a pale-pink dawn broke over the Hollywood Hills, with Blue Dog Babylon playing set after set. As the crowd thinned out, and the snooty industry types began to flit off to their mansions, the mood in the tent became even more vibrant; everyone—even Seamus and Alexa—had swapped partners and danced until practically no one was wearing shoes. Zach had taken a few more set breaks to dance with Holly—though they didn’t kiss again—and Holly had worked up the nerve to ask Jonah to autograph a napkin, which she’d save as a souvenir for her mother.

When Zach, giving Holly a see-you-soon wave from the stage, had finally packed up his guitar, and Belle’s admiring drummer had packed up his drums, Holly had dragged herself outside to pick up the car, leaving Alexa and Seamus a private, good-bye-until-New-York moment. Alexa had dozed most of the way home and Holly had stayed awake by admiring the gold shadows in the morning sky, and by sucking down the espresso Vikram’s staff had passed to her, and each guest, as a parting gift.

“St. Laurent!” Holly called hoarsely from the living room, too beat to actually get up and cross the cool marble floors to Alexa’s bedroom. “Update—our flight’s not until nine tonight!”

“Thank God!” Alexa called back, lying half-comatose on her bed, still in her aquamarine dress; it carried the bay-rum scent of Seamus’s aftershave, and it seemed she could still feel his warmth through the silky material. If Alexa had had her druthers, she would have kept dancing with him, even after the band left, even after the sun rose, their arms wrapped around each other, their lips touching, their eyes meeting in quiet understanding.
Seamus
, Alexa repeated to herself as a small thrill raced through her.
Seamus Kerr.
She knew she was wearing the biggest, goofiest smile on her face as Holly appeared in her doorway.

“What do you mean ‘thank God’?” Holly asked, hands on her hips.

Alexa sighed, lifting her head from the pillows. “Do I
look
like I’m packed?” She pointed one bare toe toward her floor, which was covered with open suitcases, a jumble of shoes, and heaps upon heaps of tunics, jeans, and footless tights.

“But Alexa!” Holly cried, picking her way through the mess toward her friend’s bed. “Graduation’s
tomorrow
at nine a.m. sharp.” Just last week, Holly’s own mother had herded the senior class together for an assembly to remind them that nobody could be even a minute late to the ceremony—or they would run the risk of not walking with their class. Holly
plopped down on the edge of the bed, giving Alexa’s leg a shake. “That was why we wanted to leave early today, remember? We’ll have to take the eleven p.m. red-eye out of Vegas, then we won’t be in Newark until seven in the morning! That gives us only two hours—”

“Which is
plenty
of time,” Alexa yawned, contentedly settling back against the pillows. Nothing could bring her down this morning. Sunlight was pouring through her drapes, and Alexa knew that if she drew them back, she’d be gazing out at a landscape of crystal-blue sky and bluer water, ringed by the greenest of palm trees. She appreciated Los Angeles even more now, knowing it was Seamus’s hometown. “Besides,” she added, grinning devilishly at Holly. “This allows us to see our boys again today if we want.”

“Zach?” Holly asked, her cheeks flushing. “No, I’ll let him sleep his night off. I probably won’t call him until the fall anyway,” she added pragmatically. Though Holly had had a blast with Zach at the wedding, she knew it would be healthy for her to take some time to really be single. She still needed to heal from Tyler, to feel as if things were tied up with him, before she moved on. But there was still something tantalizing about knowing that Zach—and other adorable boys like him—waited in LA.

“I knew you guys were going to end up together somehow,” Alexa said with a self-satisfied smile,
watching Holly. “When you pulled him from the water that fateful day—”

“Oh, please.” Holly rolled her eyes, still blushing. “You’re only saying that because on our way home this morning,
I
told you that I saw your Seamus hook-up coming from a mile away.” Holly had noticed the spark between Alexa and Seamus while watching them spar like crazy at the Getty. Meanwhile, even though Holly and Seamus got along famously, it was purely platonic. “You know what?” Holly mused, tilting her head to one side as she recalled her first impression of the smart, practical boy. “I just realized that Seamus kind of reminds me of…me.”

“He reminds me of you, too,” Alexa laughed. “Because he never hesitates to call me on my divaness.” She sighed fondly, then raised her eyebrows at Holly. “And I have to say that Zach, who is
clearly
a total ham…”

“Is basically Alexa in boy form,” Holly giggled, nodding at her friend. “Isn’t that freaky?”

Alexa shook her head, reaching over to tug on Holly’s ponytail. “Not at all. We balance each other pretty well, don’t we?” The girls exchanged a quick glance, and they both realized at once that graduation would mark the beginning of their separation. Within a couple months, they’d be living on opposite coasts. Apart, for the first time in eleven years.

Before either girl could get emotional, Holly got to her feet, announcing that she was going to make use of their extra time and go for a run. Kenya had mentioned Runyon Canyon in the Hollywood Hills as a great spot to jog—and celeb-stalk, if one so desired.

After Holly left to change, the buzz of Alexa’s cell phone on her nightstand told her she had a text message. She wondered if it was Portia, whom Alexa had texted on the way to the wedding yesterday—just to remind her friend of how Alexa was spending
her
Friday night. But when Alexa flipped open her phone she saw the words: have u changed ur mind and decided u hate me again?

So Seamus wasn’t sleeping either.

Her heart brimming, Alexa texted back: i hate u so much i want to walk with u on the beach later and hold ur hand.

Grinning, Alexa closed her phone. She’d been half fearful upon waking that the wedding had been some champagne-induced dream: that Seamus didn’t really like her, and hadn’t really kissed her, that it had been some other boy she’d danced with all night. Now, shutting her eyes, Alexa decided to drift off and dream about Seamus, the boy she knew was real and awake and thinking about her on the other side of town.

Meanwhile, Holly was feeling surprisingly peppy
as she left the guesthouse in her Sauconys, shorts, and racer-back tank, armed with a mammoth bottle of Fiji water, her iPod, and her cell. El Sueño was still and serene this morning, with the birds chirping, and Jonah likely fast asleep inside the main house. “Miguel?” Holly called, waving to the gardener, who was sitting by the pool, typing on a laptop. “Do you know the best way to get to Runyon Can—wait,” Holly said, shielding her eyes from the sun. “Isn’t Saturday your day off?”

Miguel nodded. “I came here today to work on my screenplay,” he said, gesturing to the laptop. “Mr. Eklundstrom lets me borrow one of his computers to write it. He’s very supportive of my ambition. Oh, you know, this is Hollywood,” Miguel added, clearly seeing the bemused expression on Holly’s face. “Everyone has some crazy dream.”

And mine is to live here for four years—and see what it’s like
, Holly thought, smiling to herself as Miguel gave her the directions and she turned and headed for the car. Of all the crazy dreams in the world, that one didn’t seem too bad.

“I know it’s crazy, but I wish I didn’t have to go back today,” Alexa sighed, her hand in Seamus’s as they stood on the beach across from El Sueño, their
toes sinking into the butter-soft sand. “Just when we’re finally learning to tolerate each other…”

Seamus laughed, his hazel eyes gleaming behind his glasses, and his straight blond hair whipping across his forehead. In his jeans and faded Loops & Pluto shirt, he looked much more like the casual Seamus whom Alexa had first met, instead of the dapper Seamus of last night—but he made Alexa’s stomach flip just the same. They’d had lunch at a fun Caribbean place on Santa Monica Boulevard called Cha Cha Cha, and then Seamus had driven Alexa back to Malibu. Every moment had been filled with energetic talk and debate, from the topic of Jonah (whom Alexa had confessed to going on a date with) to the issue of New York City versus Los Angeles. Alexa hadn’t wanted the afternoon to end. She still didn’t.

“Well,” Seamus said, turning to her and putting his hands on her waist. “We can keep on tolerating each other when I’m back in New York in two weeks.” He smiled, and then leaned down to kiss both of Alexa’s cheeks. “I was thinking of something when I couldn’t sleep this morning. I’ll be doing some writing and reporting for
The Observer
, but I’d love to try photography as well. Would you be interested in being my private tutor?” His eyes twinkled with mischief.

It had occurred to Alexa that morning that she
would only be starting college while Seamus was starting his first
job.
But she could tell from his expression now that he saw her as his equal in every way. Alexa felt a flood of gladness; suddenly, life on the East Coast without Holly didn’t seem nearly as bleak. “I have to warn you that I’m very strict,” she replied, standing on her tiptoes in the sand to kiss the birthmark beneath Seamus’s ear. “There may be some punishment involved if you don’t do your homework,” she added teasingly, slipping her hand beneath the collar of Seamus’s shirt, and he pulled her tighter against him, laughing into her hair.

“I don’t think I realized before,” Seamus said, wrapping his arms around her. “We’re both journalists, Alexa. No wonder we’re always butting heads.” Gently, Seamus rested his forehead against Alexa’s, making her pulse race. Here was a guy she could butt heads with forever, and never find boring or predictable. She was angling her head for a kiss when she heard Holly shouting from the hill above the beach.

“Alexa, we need to pack and we
can’t
miss this flight!” Holly hollered in her most responsible voice. Alexa saw she had changed out of her running gear into her Seven jeans, a white tank, and long green beads. “Oh, hi, Seamus,” she added, waving.

“Hey, Holly!” Seamus grinned at her. Then he turned back to Alexa and took her face in his hands.
“Congratulations, graduate. Call me right afterward tomorrow, okay?” As he brought his lips to hers, Alexa realized that even though she was kissing a beautiful boy on a Malibu beach and the late afternoon sun was reflecting off the water, she
didn’t
feel like she was in a movie. She felt like she was in her life. And that was even better.

When Alexa returned to the guesthouse, she found Holly in a packing frenzy, making organized piles of her clothing in her room. “I called my parents from Runyon Canyon,” Holly reported, carefully folding her new dress in tissue paper. “My mom has to be at the school, like, two hours in advance, but my dad and Josh can come get us from Newark and zip us over.” As Holly picked up her makeup bag, the glint of something gold inside caught her eye.
My Claddagh ring
, Holly realized, sifting through the tubes of clear gloss to remove the ring. Holly felt the familiar ache in her throat, and she quickly tucked the ring into the pocket of her jeans. She felt it would be her good-luck charm for the plane.

“I’ll miss
El Sueño
,” Alexa was sighing, trailing her fingers along Holly’s floor-to-ceiling windows. “I’ll even miss Esperanza.” The sight of Jonah’s assistant going wild last night had really improved Alexa’s opinion of the woman.

Holly chuckled as she zipped up her duffel. “I’ll
bet anything she’s too hungover this morning to remember
either
of us.”

As if Esperanza had heard them from the main house, the hallway intercom buzzed right then. When Alexa answered, a sheepish-sounding Esperanza asked if the girls were in need of the Hybrid that day. “Mr. Eklundstrom was planning to drive Ms. Durst home in it,” she explained.

Aha!
Alexa thought, intrigued. So Charity had won over her costar after all. Suddenly, Alexa wondered if she could ever read
Us Weekly
again. Now that she knew the truths behind the gossip, it all seemed less exciting somehow—though she couldn’t
wait
to read about Margaux and Paul’s Icelandic honeymoon.

After Alexa assured Esperanza that they no longer needed the Hybrid—but asked if they could have the limo to take them to the airport—she retrieved the photo for Jonah from her bedroom and placed the gift on the kitchen counter, where Jonah had left
his
welcome gift. She attached a note leaving Jonah her cell number. She wasn’t sure if the actor—or his impulsive sister—would ever really stay in touch with her, but she hoped Jonah might hang out with her and Seamus when he was in New York to film his favorite romantic comedy.

By the time Alexa and Holly had cleaned up the
guesthouse and sufficiently shoved all their belongings into their bags, the limo was waiting outside.

“Our last time in a limo,” Holly said wistfully as she and Alexa slid into the soft leather interior.

“Speak for yourself,” Alexa laughed, closing the door. “Though then again,
you’re
the one who’s moving back here. Maybe you’ll end up a big-shot director one day.”

As the limo drove down the Pacific Coast Highway, the ocean flashing by the windows, the girls were silent, each remembering her experience in the golden city.

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