Page 26 of Lucky 22

I’m standing in a cloud of hairspray when she tells me totwirl.

So, I do.

“Perfect!” she declares. “Your hair, the makeup, theoutfit…everything. Yay!”

I move to check my reflection in the mirror, and I feelgood. Confident. Pretty.

“So?” she asks. “Are you ready for it?”

Am I?

Grabbing my little black purse, I nod. “I am so ready fortonight. This is going to be the first chance for Christian to experience myworld.”

“Well…really?” Jen asks hesitantly. “I mean, he’s already abig deal, and he’s on TV all the time because of baseball.”

“That’s true, but he’s never been to a movie premierebefore, so it’s kind of nice that I get to share that with him.”

“He’s either going to enjoy it, or it will scare him off.”

“He doesn’t strike me as the type who scares easily,” Iassure her.

In the distance, our doorbell rings.

“And he’s punctual.”

“That can be a good thing,” she says, following me out ofthe bedroom. “Go and have fun. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

I don’t think I’ve made a mistake, but…

My on-screen self is a punk rocker, and it’s a littlejarring seeing how different I look. I’ve got black-and-green-striped hair, andI’m pretty much rebelling against everything and everyone. I’m rough around theedges, and the total opposite of who I am in real life.

I keep glancing over at Christian, and every once in awhile, I find him looking at me like, “Who is this person?” I don’tknow what to make of it. Still, when the movie’s over and the theater lightscome on, he’s nothing but positive.

“Great job,” he says. “You were amazing, Ella Rose.”

“Thank you. It was fun to play someone so differentfrom my usual self…”

Which is my way of assuring him that I am not thatgirl with the multicolored hair.

Even though she was pretty badass.

The after-party is at a nearby venue, so we opt to walkthere because LA traffic is always a beast.

“How do you choose the roles you audition for?” he asks, andit’s a legit question.

“A lot of times, it’s just if I fit the age and physicaldescription. I like the challenge of playing unique characters—you know, topush myself. This role was like night and day, compared to my parts onStoryteller’s shows. I can play the cheerleader and the popular girl, where mylooks are always bright and perky and cute. This was a chance to be a littlegrittier.”

He nods. “You were definitely believable.”

“Thank you.”

We walk in companionable silence for a minute or two, butthe noise of the city is all around us: traffic, music, and the buzz ofdowntown filling the momentary break in our conversation. I’m hugging my clutchclose, my eyes darting from the bright marquees to the clusters of peoplespilling out of restaurants. There’s so much to see and do, and the energy ispalpable.

“So, this after-party,” he says, smiling. “On a scale of oneto ten, how sure are you we’ll actually find it?”

I can’t help but smile, too. “A solid seven. Maybe an eight.But I promise if we end up in the wrong place, I’ll buy you pizza on the wayback.”

Shaking his head, he laughs. “That’s not the worst backupplan, but I’ll be the one doing the buying. My mother would have a fit if sheheard I let my date buy me dinner.”