Chapter Nine
Glitz and Glamour

Manners 101 is my least favorite class of the day and, since Halloween falls on a Thursday this year, I was forced to listen to Blossom for an hour and a half. Ninety minutes of how to guarantee a good seat at the Oscars! What I wanted to tell Blossom is that you can’t guarantee a good seat at the Oscars unless you own the building or are an A-list nominee. Heck, even the older celebrities like Harrison Ford are forced to sit in the sixth or seventh row. That’s just life. However, according to Blossom (who can pay attention to a lady named Blossom, anyway?), Bree students should never allow themselves to be embarrassed in such a way. Well, I’ve got news for her…I’d be honored if I got invited. Period. They could seat me in the aisle for all I care. Just to get the opportunity to go would be amazing.

Of course, Charli has been the past two years and there is no doubt about Mercedes and India’s appearance (after all, their picture made it into Teen People). The girl who sits in the front row – with the really bad haircut –went when she was younger and a boy named Clifford attended last year with his cousin. Out of the group, Charli had the best seat, though. Two rows in front of Mercedes and five seats down from – gush, gush – Johnny Depp. Unfortunately for me, Charli did not ask for an autograph or even a picture, but can I really blame her? After all, U2 played at her thirteenth birthday. That is not an every day experience at a normal girl’s birthday party. Charli is, unlike me, accustomed to the fame of her parents and the glitz and glamour of her lifestyle. One word: jealous.

If I ever find myself being seated in the tenth row at the Oscars, however, I’ll know exactly how to handle the situation. Thanks to Bree. I won’t know how to read the numbers on the chairs (since Math doesn’t exist here), but I’ll know what to do if Nicole Kidman has a run in her pantyhose or if Jennifer Lopez’s dress falls down. It’s truly comforting to know that Bree is preparing me for life’s struggles.

At exactly two-thirty, I made a beeline for the classroom door. Who cares that Blossom wasn’t done assigning some stupid homework assignment? You’re not expected to complete homework assignments, so why did I need to listen to her babble on about it? Time was of the essence and my hair needed to straightened and blow dried before four, which is when I was meeting Charli in her room to change.

Because I chose to wear comfortable tennis shoes over designer pumps, I was able to sprint back to my room in record time. Lilach wasn’t there. No surprise. Grabbing a small bag to pack all the essentials, I checked the messages on my cell. Two from Charli, one from Lilach telling me she was spending the night at Honey’s, and one from Emma. Guilt leapt into my throat as I listened to my distant friend gush about her new boyfriend and cry that she hadn’t talked to me in weeks. I’ll call her tomorrow, I promised myself as I grabbed my make-up bag.

Honestly, I hadn’t been avoiding her. It was just easier to put off the phone call to tomorrow. Although, days of saying that had finally added up. It wasn’t like I was embarrassed of her. No one could see who she was and what she looked like over the phone. Still, whenever Lilach or Charli was around, I felt nervous about calling home to anyone. They knew the new Patience. Not the old Patience. And, with my luck, they probably wouldn’t like the old Patience.

It took a little longer than planned, but I eventually got my hair to lie like Farrah Fawcett’s. Except for one stubborn curl that I discreetly tucked in the back, I was a new woman. I looked much older, too. Twenty-one maybe. Definitely not seventeen.

Charli looked even more amazing. The red devil look worked well with her curves. When I arrived at her dorm room, it looked as if a tornado had passed through. She had misplaced her pantyhose. Charli also had a little surprise for me: an authentic belt and boots to go with my outfit. It sure beat my old, beat-up cowboy boots. These were designer label – compliments of her mother.

Forty-five minutes, two bottles of hairspray, and one package of red glitter later, we were ready. It was only five o’clock and the party didn’t officially start until seven thirty, but I was already ready.

“What are we going to do until eight?” I glanced at the clock. It had been Charli’s idea to arrive late. “Nobody who’s anybody gets there on time,” she had said. In Colorado, everyone fought their parents to get to an event on time. It was the thing to do there, but Los Angeles followed a different set of rules and expectations, as I had come to find out.

“Dinner, sweetie. I’ve got us booked at the most amazing place. We’re going to show off our clothes before we go trash them.” I almost started to ask her what she meant by her last comment, but decided against it at the last second. If I was going to ruin my outfit, I didn’t want to know. The money I had wasted on the Halloween costume already made me cringe. To find out that I wouldn’t be able to wear any of the pieces again was too much to handle. I wasn’t like the other L.A. girls. I couldn’t throw away anything I wanted when I wanted. I kept everything. If it was last season, who cared? If it became too ratty to wear, then I fixed it into something else. Nothing got thrown away. “Well, are you ready?”

“Yes,” I nodded meekly, grabbing my purse. Turning the light off on the way out, I said goodbye to the familiar and hello to the unknown. It was time for Patience Enloe to carpe diem.

The Halloween bash was being held at India Collin’s Bel Air estate. Okay, technically it was her father’s, but India was the only standing missus of the house and ran it like she owned it. Had been since she was eleven and her mother ditched the father-daughter pair for the modeling business in Japan. Four postcards, two magazines, and one bundle of a surprise later, news came that Jasmine Collins and the newborn baby had died in a club shooting. The story had made headline news all over the country. That’s when I caught it, back when I was a fan of Wyatt Collins and his new romance blockbuster. After the death of his wife, Wyatt quit making movies and decided to become a chef. Now almost six years later, he owned two popular restaurants located on each coast. Thanks to the success of Jasmine, India continued to have the lavish life she desired and the stars had a new, hip place to eat. It also meant excellent catering.

The food was the last thing I was looking at, however. When I arrived at the Collin’s home it was all I could do from screaming. It was beautiful. All ten thousand square feet of it. There were the formal gardens, two guesthouses, a pool, tennis court, the Jasmine training center, and then the house.

A man met us at the door, something to which I was unaccustomed. At home, the host or hostess greeted the guests. Here a man in a tux took my coat and purse, giving me a number in return.

“What is this for?” I asked Charli.

“It’s your baggage claim,” she laughed. It always seemed to amaze her how little I knew about the outside world. To Charli, this was nothing. To me, I had died and gone to heaven. Only I was wearing clothes from before I was born and my hair was straightened. Not exactly how I’ve always imagined looking when I finally made it to the pearly gates. But that’s okay. I was at a real party in L.A. Even if it was only Halloween.

“Drink?” Someone approached us.

“Two flat waters and limes,” Charli answered, grabbing a piece of caviar off a passing tray.

“Right away miss.” I nudged Charli in the side.

“I’m not sure I like flat water.”

“You’ll like it,” her eyes sparkled. “Besides, I just saved you from complete embarrassment. Knowing you, you would have asked for a coke. And honey, you can’t get a coke here without the rum.”

“Rum in your coke?” I shook my head in disgust. The thought was revolting enough. Sure, I had never actually tasted alcohol before. Unless you count communion. I didn’t want tonight to be my first, either. After nursing Bryan, Ana, and now Lilach, back to health, drinking did not look like a fun option anymore.

“Girl, you have a lot to learn about the city.”

“Los Angeles is just so bizarre.”

“That’s half the fun! Now, lets go scope out the scene,” Charli looped her arm through mine. “If we’re lucky Paris might show up. She’s friends with Mercedes, you know?”

“No kidding,” I chuckled. My question was: Paris who?

Ana says never to commit to one place before checking out the entire scene first. So that’s exactly what Charli and I did. Gazing in awe at everything in the house was fun, but checking out the costumes left me speechless as well. Ana had been right – Halloween was an excuse for girls to dress as slutty as they could possibly manage. I had to be, hands down, the only clothed girl at the party. India and Mercedes had dyed their beach blonde locks black – hopefully just for the evening, I overheard Charity telling the gossip columnist – and sported matching vampire things. I wasn’t quite sure if they were leather bikinis or underwear. Either way, Sarah Michelle Gellar has them beat any day. Not that I watch re-runs of Buffy, or anything, but Bryan went through a SMG phase. Scooby Doo, Buffy, Cruel Intentions…you name it, he watched it…over and over again. It was during that time that I became acquainted with the show and realized how pointless it was. Vampires? Really…watch about something that actually exists people! Like Friends. That was a show with a point. That, and the theme song is totally my life – No one told you life was gonna be this way…Because nobody told me I was going to be attending a posh boarding school and partying at the home of Wyatt Collins! This is almost so surreal that I wouldn’t believe it. Except that some girl just stepped on my foot, twisting it a hundred-and-eighty degrees, and I’m sure if I was dreaming I would have woken up by now. My foot is throbbing. Stiletto’s can really puncture cowboy boots.

“I’m going to go get a drink,” I shouted to Charli over the blaring music. Hello? Since when was Eminem danceable music? Where was a Britney Spears CD when you actually needed it?

“Okay. Don’t stray to far,” Charli winked at me before rushing over to meet someone else. Pushing my way through the bodies dancing…I mean, grinding…on the dance floor, I made it into the foyer. From there, with some direction from the man at the door, I found the nearest bathroom.

Inside, I sat down on the floor and yanked my shoe off. There was a nice black and blue bruise beginning to appear on my right foot and around my ankle. I needed some ice. Stuffing my foot back into the designer shoe, I hobbled out of the bathroom and back towards the man by the door. This time I needed to find a kitchen. Abandoning his post for a moment, he led me to the kitchen in the back of the house. I nearly knocked over a statue of cupid on the way, but recovered at the last second. Walking on only your left foot is hard to do.

Once I was settled onto a stool at the island in the middle, with my foot propped up with ice, Mr. Doorman left me. The cook wasn’t in the kitchen either, since the food had been prepared by the chefs-in-training at Jasmine’s top-notch training school. That left me on my own, in a kitchen bigger than my first floor at home, with a disgustingly bruised ankle and foot. So much for having a great time at the party. At least at home, I was guaranteed four pillowcases of candy to choose from – compliments of the sibs.

“Eminem. Dancing to Eminem. Yeah, right.” A familiar voice came walking through the door to the kitchen. “You can’t dance to those songs.”

“Excuse me,” I interrupted the boy, who was looking for something in the kitchen’s eight-foot-tall and five-foot-wide refrigerator. I noticed that he looked to be wearing some sort of Star Wars costume, but I couldn’t be certain.

“Yes,” the boy turned around, flashing me a wide smile when he saw who I was. It was Mystery Boy! “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Miss Accident Prone.” I blushed, remembering how he had rescued me from falling into the huge puddle. “Looks like you’ve gone and done it again,” he glanced down at my swollen ankle. “Who’d you bump into this time?”

“Someone stepped on my foot,” I readjusted the ice pack, trying not making eye contact. He was dressed like Anakin Skywalker, which I found very appealing. Star Wars is my all time favorite movie.

“I see. Well, it’s not much of a party stuck here in the kitchen. How about I help you out to the gardens. You’ll have a better view out there.” Nodding my head in agreement, I jumped off the stool, being careful not to knock my ankle into anything. Mystery Boy grabbed my arm to help steady me and we slowly made our way into the back. The gardens were lit up with colorful lights. Not those tacky, blinking ones they hang at Christmas, but tasteful green, yellow, and blue. The lights lit up the walkway and accented the beautiful bushes that were still in season. With the help of my new friend, I made it to a bench in the middle of a gazebo. Mystery Boy allowed me to prop my foot on the end of the bench and he leaned up against the railing instead.

“Thank you for everything,” I smiled appreciatively. “My name is Patience, by the way.”

“James,” he replied.

“Do you go to Bree?” I asked him, even though I didn’t think he did. Surely, I would have seen him on campus at least once.

“No. I graduated from school in Paris last year – yeah, I know, I don’t have a French accent – and came back to live with my family for a year before I head off to college. I laughed silently, remembering back to when he called me mademoiselle. So he really was from abroad.

“Do you mind me asking how you know Mercedes and India?” James turned around and glanced back towards the music of the party. I had obviously asked a touchy question. “Forget I asked,” I quickly shook my hand in his direction. “It’s none of my business.” Although, deep down inside I wanted to know. Were there any romantic entanglements …what?

“I dated India two summers ago, when she was staying in Paris,” was the only response he offered. Deciding not to push the issue, I racked my brain furiously for a different topic.

“So, how are you spending your year off?” I blurted out. James turned around and flashed me his gorgeous smile. He had caught on to my less than subtle change of subject.

“I’m actually working at Jasmine,” James smirked. “Turns out old girlfriends can pull strings.” My heart sank. So he did still have feelings for India. Why else would he be working at her father’s restaurant? “I want to be a chef,” he continued. “My Father wants me to be a lawyer, because I’m pretty good at it and Mum says ‘to follow my heart.’ So here I am at Jasmine, fresh out of high school, working with those in the big league. It’s fun most of the time, except when someone special comes in. Then the tension rises and things are a little icy between the chefs. Everything has to be perfect…I wouldn’t trade it for school any day, however. I’m living out my dream, no matter what my father says.” The tone of James’ voice let me know that he had a passion for cooking. It was the same way I felt when I worked on an English paper. The thrill of producing something others could enjoy was worth the aggravations you might encounter along the way.

“Wow…Jasmine,” was all I could bring myself to say. “You must be really talented.”

“If only my father could see that!” James banged his fist against the bench. It sent the seat shaking and I held on to keep my balance. Thanks to the sudden movement, though, I wasn’t able to catch my ice pack before it fell off my foot and under the bench. As James rambled on about cooking and his father, I tried my best to retrieve the ice pack. Unfortunately, I couldn’t reach it without further damaging myself. “Oh here, let me help you with that,” James finally took notice of my struggles.

“Thanks,” I blushed as he gently laid it on my ankle. His fingers brushed lightly against my skin and chills ran up and down my spine. Since when did I have such strong feelings for a boy I barely knew?

“Would you like to – ” James was cut off by the sound of his pager buzzing. Glancing down, his face looked disappointed for a second. “Looks like I’m needed at the party. The DJ is having trouble picking out good music again.” I nodded meekly. The music was awful, but I still didn’t want James to leave me alone in the garden. “It was nice meeting you, Patience,” James extended his hand for a handshake. It took everything I had not to laugh at his polite gesture. “Maybe we’ll bump into each other again some day.”

“Maybe,” I flashed him my best smile. With a wink in my direction, James fled back towards the music to find the DJ. Left alone to fend for myself, I figured I’d better find Charli soon. She was probably worried sick about me.

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