Lauren Conrad - Infamous

“Whatever yourself, Fawn,” Lily teased. “You look like a binge eater over there.”

Fawn stuck out her tongue, all gooey with chocolate. “So I hear the bitch is back,” she said, changing the subject.

“Yeah, and believe it or not, it’s actually better this way,” Carmen said. “I mean, Mad and I aren’t exactly BFFs, but without her, things got kind of boring.”

“You should have had me on more,” Fawn said. She seemed to think that Madison’s absence meant there would be more screen time for her. And she wasn’t subtle about it.

“Right, totally,” Carmen said, keeping her voice neutral. She hadn’t told Fawn that the powers-that-be thought she was around too much already. Lose the shadow, Trevor had told Carmen. She doesn’t play. They seemed to like Lily better, but Lily wasn’t particularly interested in being in front of a camera. She was more like Drew that way—or like how Drew used to be. Fine being in the background, but not interested in being a main story line.

Anyway, Carmen liked having friends who weren’t on the show. It was good to be able to hang out without needing to cover a list of talking points. With no cameras around (except for Lily’s iPhone, which was like another appendage), she didn’t have to worry about public embarrassment if she spilled a bit of yogurt on her new top, which she’d just done. Oops.

“So I did makeup for Mona Moore yesterday,” Lily said, chewing on the end of her straw.

“Oh, I love her talk show,” Carmen said as she attempted to wipe up the spot on her top with a napkin.

“Me too. She always has such crazy conversations with her guests. They tell her everything! That one where Gemma Kline basically confessed to being anorexic? That was insane! But FYI, Mona herself is completely lying about her age,” Lily said. “If she’s thirty-five, then my mom’s twenty.”

“So when she was born, she was already pregnant with you!” Fawn giggled.

Lily nodded. “Exactly.”

Carmen savored another bite of yogurt. There was no way this was fat-free. “That’s totally creepy, Fawn,” she said.

“No shit,” said Fawn. “So’s Gemma Kline. Have you seen that movie where she gets that awful disease and she turns all blue and stuff? I thought it was her best work, but maybe it’s because I enjoyed seeing her suffer.”

Carmen hadn’t seen it. She didn’t go to movies that much anymore. She knew she ought to, though. She ought to see what her competition was up to. For instance: What films had the girl who was currently shooting with Luke done? Carmen had no idea.

“So . . . what’s up with you lately, Fawn?” she asked. “Any new voice-over work?”

“Oh, I’m keeping busy,” Fawn said evasively.

“Faaaawn,” Carmen said. She knew Fawn wasn’t particularly proud of her voice-over jobs. “Come on. You can tell us. We’re friends, remember? Friends.”

Fawn gazed down at the remains of her yogurt cone. “I taped a tampon commercial,” she admitted.

Carmen and Lily both squealed with delight. “Oh my God,” Carmen said, “tell me it wasn’t the one where, at the end, the tampons all line up and dance the Macarena.”

Fawn turned scarlet. She wouldn’t look at them. “I plead the Fifth,” she said.

Carmen threw her arm around her friend’s shoulders. “Hey! Don’t ever be ashamed of acting work,” she said. “(A) it pays, and (B) you’re on your way.”

“To where, though?” Fawn asked, looking suddenly more vulnerable than Carmen had ever seen her look.

Carmen gave her a squeeze, “To the top, hon,” she assured her. “To the top.”

Then she grabbed the hands of both of her friends. “We’re all going nowhere but up. Am I right?”

“Please, God, let her know what she’s talking about,” Fawn said to the ceiling.

“Nowhere but up,” Lily repeated.

Of course, that wasn’t what the tabloids were saying about Carmen (and they weren’t saying anything about Lily or Fawn). This week’s exaggeration: WITHOUT HER LEADING MAN, CARMEN CURTIS IN ROMANTIC FREE FALL. The headline was a pun on Luke’s new movie, in which he played a World War II parachutist. The cover showed a photograph of Luke Kelly and his hot new costar looking very cozy (it was for a scene so it didn’t bother Carmen) and next to it was a photo of Carmen talking on the phone, looking depressed. She knew exactly when it was taken—she’d seen the paparazzo lurking behind a newspaper stand. And she’d looked that way because she was listening to an old friend’s breakup story.

I’m looking sympathetic in that shot, you idiots! she wanted to yell. Not depressed!

It was really, really annoying. But by this point, Carmen was almost used to the mix of half truths and blatant lies. Sure, D-lish had gotten her lunch order right the other day—CARMEN CURTIS LOVES THE EGGPLANT PIZZA AT LAUREL HARDWARE!—but what about their claim that she’d gained five pounds in Luke’s absence? (It was only two!) And the bits about how “Little CC” and “indie darling Kate Hayes” are having “tense times”—that really bummed her out. How did they know?

On the bright side, at least they hadn’t mentioned anything about her interest in Scientology—something she’d jokingly mentioned to Fawn (who’d been so absorbed in selecting lipsticks at Sephora that she’d probably taken Carmen seriously).

“I’m so glad I have friends like you guys,” Carmen said now. “Let’s hit Maxfield’s and burn off some of these calories with shopping.”

“I thought you were going to your parents’ house,” Lily said.

“Later,” Carmen said. “First, I’m going to spend a month’s rent on shoes.”

When Carmen got to her parents’ front door that evening, she paused and wondered if she should knock. Sure, she had a key—but she didn’t live here anymore.

She rang the doorbell, and a moment later her mother was standing in the doorway, backlit in golden light from the hall chandelier.

Cassandra laughed gaily. “Come in, you goose, and never ring the doorbell again. Doorbells are for canvassers and Jehovah’s Witnesses.”

“Uh, I forgot my key,” Carmen said.

She didn’t want to make her mother feel bad. Now that they’d made up (even if the tabloids were continuing to report otherwise), she was careful not to make things weird between them again. They’d had lunch a couple times since their fight, but tonight was the first time Carmen had been back to her childhood home.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Cassandra said. “I’ve got a giant chicken in the oven.”

Carmen followed her into the spotless white kitchen, fragrant with garlic and rosemary and lemon. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Having a place to call her own was great in a lot of ways, but the kitchen she shared with Kate never smelled like anything but burnt coffee or takeout.

Compared to her Topanga Canyon home, living in her Park Towers apartment felt like living in a hotel. One lacking room service and a maid.

Carmen swiped an olive and a cherry tomato and popped them both in her mouth at the same time, one salty and the other sweet. “Where’s Dad?”

“Stuck in traffic. He’ll be here soon.” Cassandra emptied a container of arugula into a big wooden salad bowl. “So, what’ve you been up to lately?”

“Well, we’re filming the second season, but other than that, I’m sort of taking a break. Figuring out what to do next. What about you?”

Cassandra shrugged. “Not much. A Stevie Nicks tribute concert at Club Nokia. That’ll be nice. I like playing the smaller clubs. Reminds me of when I was starting out.” She slid a baguette toward Carmen. “Would you slice this for me?”

Carmen obeyed, and then whisked a quick vinaigrette for the salad without being asked. Her mother always put too much garlic in her salad dressing.