My stomach plummets.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” Alexis says. “But if I did, you couldn’t handle it.” She turns away from us, and I have to mentally force myself to unclench my fists at my sides.
Georgina fluffs her bangs. “Well, I’m glad to see he’s not hung up on Britney anymore.”
“He was never hung up on Britney,” I say.
Georgina sends Alexis a glance, likewhat’s with her?“Okay, then.”
“Have you spoken to Britney?” Alexis asks Georgina.
“Since this Greg stuff? No way. The press is having a field day. Laura would lose her shit if I got within range.”
Laura is Georgina’s publicist. And from the way she talks about her, her conscience. Georgina only does things Laura approves.
“You’re such a classy friend,” Alexis says.
“You know I’d stand next to you through anything. But Britney never had our backs. I just don’t see why we have to have hers.”
Alexis doesn’t respond, and Georgina hops into the pool and hangs on to the side, kicking her feet out behind her. I want to ask more about Britney, but I don’t want to seem overeager for info or jealous of Rainer’s ex, so I keep quiet.
I shrug off my cover-up. I’m wearing a bikini I bought in Hawaii—orange with red and gold flowers. It reminds me of early beach swims there, before shooting. When the sun was just coming up and the water was cool and I could start the day all alone, the horizon expanding out in front of me.
I see Jordan on that beach. I blink him away.
“Paige’ll be at the MTV Movie Awards,” Alexis says, changing the subject.
“Your first awards show. Exciting,” Georgina says, flicking some water at me. “It’s such a scene.”
“It’s a scene when I go to Starbucks,” I say.
Georgina laughs. “Some people have to pay for that kind of press,” she says.
“Pay?”
Alexis cuts in. “Some people in Hollywood—no one in this pool, obviously.” The girls laugh at this. “Butsomepeople will tell photographers when they’re going to be somewhere to make sure they get their picture snapped.”
“Why?”
“Keeps you relevant,” Georgina says, ducking under the water. She comes back up. “No offense, Paige, but you gotta work on your pap shots. You look like you want to murder someone every time I see you in a tabloid.”
“I know,” I say. “I’m trying.” The press has taken to occasionally calling me “PG for Pained Grimace.” It’s not exactly something I’m proud of. It just feels like if I smile for them, if I play along, it means I’m saying that my life is theirs for the taking. How much do I owe people? How much access do they deserve?
“Are you coming back for the Awards?” Alexis asks Georgina.
Georgina hoists herself out of the pool and flops down next to me, closing her eyes with her face up to the sun. “Oh yeah. Although I’m really sick of winning TV Couple without Blake. I look like an idiot up there.”
“How does he consistently get out of everything?” Alexis asks.
“Because he never did it to begin with,” Georgina answers. She pops her head up and looks at me. “Just remember this: What you do in the beginning is what they make you do in the middle. And the middle is long. The middle is the whole thing.”
Alexis tops off my glass. “Paige doesn’t have a choice. Plus,” she says, waving me off, “you have Rainer on your arm—you’re Young Hollywood’s reigning queen. You might as well enjoy it while it lasts.”
While it lasts.That’s one thing they don’t tell you: that built into every anxiety-riddled moment of fame is the very clear reminder that one day this blinding light will fade. It should make me feel relieved, but it doesn’t.
I imagine stepping out of a car with Rainer, onto a carpet, like we did so many times on tour. People screaming. The world going nuts for every single move that we make, every smile we send each other’s way. I don’t think there is any way to get used to it. I think you would be crazy if you did.
“Yeah, we’re talking about new projects,” I venture.
