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“You can go to prom with Dalton if you really think it will be good for you,” he says with preemptive bravado.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t,” I say, grabbing a jean jacket out of my closet. “I’m going to go talk to my agent and tell him to call off the interviews. I’ll call you after, okay?”

  “Sure, babe,” he says, pulling me in by the waist for a passionate kiss. “Talk to you later.”

  Dear universe, why’d you have to go and make things so complicated?

  * * *

  I drive as quickly as I possibly can over to the Beverly Hills building where my agent, Buddy Silvern, works. It’s one of those very snazzy, quiet buildings with lots of big glass walls inside and shiny white floors and pristine gold lettering. In the past, coming into this building has been an intimidating experience, to say the least, but today I don’t have time to feel intimidated. I storm in past the doorman and up three flights to the American Talent Agency ­offices and head directly to where Buddy’s secretary sits.

  “Hi, Harper!” she chirps. “I haven’t seen you in a—”

  “I have to talk to Buddy immediately,” I pant. “Is he in?”

  “Yes, actually, let me just see if—”

  But she can barely finish her sentence before I’m knocking on his frosted glass door.

  “Harper Ambrose!” he says, opening the door. “Just the girl I want to see.”

  “Good, because we have to talk.”

  “I’m sorry, Buddy,” Lydia calls over my head, “I couldn’t stop her.”

  “Oh, that’s no problem, Lydia.” He waves to her and closes the door, offers me a seat across from his desk. Buddy Silvern is a completely bald man, maybe in his early to mid-forties. He has a diamond earring in one ear and always wears a long-sleeved turtleneck. I swear he must have one in every color.

  “So what’s going on, Harpsichord?”

  “Harpsi-what?”

  “Harpsichord. Like the instrument. Just a nickname I thought up for you.”

  “Okay . . . So listen, I cannot go to the prom with Dalton James.”

  “What’s wrong? Trouble in paradise?”

  “Trouble in paradise? What? No, we broke up. It’s over. I have a new boyfriend and that’s who I’m going to the prom with. So please, if you could cancel the interviews I’m supposed to do about going to the prom with Dalton, that would be amazing.”

  “Harpsichord, listen.” He leans forward, clasping his chubby hands. “Going to the prom with Dalton is one of the best things you could possibly do for your career. The publicity will be huge.”

  “But I don’t need that! I already have a huge following and I’ll get tons of views for making a prom video on my own, regardless of who I take to the prom.”

  “No, no, you don’t understand. This is bigger than that. Much bigger. If you go to the prom with Dalton James, do these interviews, pose for some photos, you could become a crossover star.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, it would be your chance to get taken seriously as an actress. Start having roles offered to you. You could cross over into the world of mainstream celebrity.”

  I swallow hard. It’s been a long time since I’ve talked with Buddy about my long-term goal of breaking into acting. The truth is, it’s been a lifelong dream that I don’t tell a lot of people. I’m always afraid people will laugh and think it’s ridiculous, tell me it’s impossible. But now I’m hearing for the first time that not only is it possible, but also it’s in reach. All I have to do is tell my current boyfriend that it turns out I actually have to go to the prom with my ex-boyfriend. I’m sure that will go over spectacularly.

  “Oh god,” I say, pressing my palms to either side of my face, as if that will help.

  “You don’t have to marry the guy, just have one more night with him. If your new boyfriend really cares about you, he’ll want what’s best for you and your career. And this is it, this is what’s best.”

  I bite my bottom lip almost until it bleeds and wonder if he’s right. See, what did I tell you? Nothing stays perfect for very long.

  * * *

  “Hello?” Jack answers the phone, sounding groggy, like maybe he’s waking up from a nap.

  “Hi! So, I talked to my agent, and he explained something really interesting and kind of cool. He said that—”

  “You’re going to the prom with Dalton, is that it?”

  “It’s not what you think, though, listen! It’s the next-level publicity I need to break into an acting career. You’re one of the only people who knows how much I’ve—”

  “You’ve wanted that for a really long time, I know. Look, Harper, I understand. It sucks, but I understand.”

  “Wow. You’re amazing. I really hoped you’d understand and you do. You’re honestly the best boyfriend a girl could ever—”

  “Hey, my mom’s calling me for dinner. See you tomorrow.”

  And he’s gone. I’m left looking into my phone, knowing ­nobody’s on the other end. I never expected moving forward in my career would feel so lonely.

  * * *

  TUTORIAL #11

  Ultimate Guide to the Perfect Prom Look!

  Welcome to the ultimate prom guide! I’m gonna teach you how to get the perfect look you’ve been dreaming of. Everything from makeup to hair to dress ideas, all you need to know is right here! Let’s get started!

  First things first: makeup.

  1. Obviously you’re going to want to moisturize that skin, girl, and prime it! Do this before applying any foundation. I’m using my go-to Covergirl 3-in-1, which I’ve pretty much been using for three years now. Literally I’ve been using this since it first came out and it’s perfect, why would I ever switch?

  2. Next I’m going in with a heavier concealer to cover up any extra blemishes, because let’s be real, we want our skin to look on fleek in the prom pictures.

  3. Then I recommend using a brightening concealer to highlight various places on your face. Under your eyes, tip of your nose, anywhere that you want to look super awake and fresh.

  4. If there has ever been a time to contour, now is it! I’m going to use this bronzer that costs literally one dollar (what?!) in the hollows of my cheeks and on my temples, before blending a natural-colored blush into the apples of my cheeks.

  5. I was looking at red carpet pictures from, like, the year 2000, and celebrities literally didn’t fill in their brows. It’s like a new thing. Not just for me but for everyone. I don’t understand how people didn’t do it before, it’s honestly life-changing, and needless to say I highly recommend it for prom.

  6. Now, let’s move on to the eyes, which are the most important part, you might say. They are the windows into your soul, after all. For prom I personally am going to go for a sort of fluttery fairy meets dark mystery girl vibe, so I’m using this Covergirl Quad in Stunning Smokeys and using the lightest shimmery white color all over the lid as a base, then layering the second lightest color over that for a highlighted effect. The third color I’ll be using is a matte gray, and I’m blending it in my eyelid crease with a large fluffy brush before smudging the same shade below the lower lash line with an eye shadow sponge. Lastly, I’m brushing on quite a few layers of mascara because I don’t feel like putting on fake lashes. When you’re not in the mood, you’re not in the mood, am I right?

  7. Gonna keep these prom lips really simple: just painting on some lipstick. I’m using one called Angel by MAC; it’s just a pretty, shimmery watermelon color. Tada! Your prom makeup is officially complete.

  It’s Hair Time!

  I know a lot of people get their hair professionally done for prom, but personally whenever anyone else does my hair I always end up hating it, so I’m gonna do it myself and teach you how to too! I mean come on, girls, it’s 2016, let’s take our beauty into our own hands.

  Okay, so you might think this is kind of radical for prom, but hear me out: this year keep it clean and simple with a basic loose side braid. “What?!” you might say, “but everyone e
lse will be wearing professional updos and elaborate ­Shakespearean-era-styled curls!” And yes, you’re right, but that’s what makes your simple side braid so perfectly exquisite: you’ll stand out among the prom crowd as the effortless beauty. Trust me, girls, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

  Say Yes to the Dress!

  If you’re on the hunt for the perfect dress, look no further than Windsor. They have amazing prom dresses that are very affordable in literally every style your little heart could desire. Honestly, prom is the perfect time to explore your personal style and find something that feels really right to you, something you feel truly beautiful in, whatever that may be! This year for the sophomore prom I’m going to wear a rose-gold tulle-and-satin princess dress that is actually a two-piece (in other words, it’s a fancy matching top and skirt and it’s just subtle, classy, and gooorgeous).

  Oh my goodness, you guys, that is everything you need to know to get the perfect prom look. Now go forth and shine like the beautiful diamonds that you are!

  You are my everything goals.

  Lots of love, Harper

  * * *

  CHAPTER 18

  ••••••••••

  You’re Going to Be Fabulous

  Prom day rolls around in the blink of an eye. My alarm rings and I hit snooze, then hit snooze again, and again once more, then reluctantly get up and go through the motions of getting ready. These activities are normally the highlights of my day, but now they just feel tedious. Why put in my best efforts to doll myself up if the whole night is just going to be a sham? And what are my fans going to think? Me “getting back together” with Dalton after he said those things about me on national television, how’s that going to look? Aren’t I supposed to be a role model? I glance back over at my bed and consider climbing back into it, avoiding the whole thing altogether. This is going to be great for you, I try to tell myself. You’re doing this for your career. It’s smart. Don’t back down now. One night and then you go back to Jack.

  At five o’clock, Dalton pulls up in a limo the exact same rose-gold shade as my dress, a cameraman popping comically up out of the moonroof. I roll my eyes, then pose for a picture. Dalton hops out of the limo and strides over to me, carrying a clear plastic box with an enormous pink rose.

  “Um, what is that?” I ask, pointing.

  “It’s your corsage, dummy.”

  “It’s . . . very large. Will it even fit on my wrist?”

  “Sure, look.” He takes it out of the box and slips it on my wrist while the cameraman snaps away. The corsage eclipses my wrist, hanging off on both sides. “It will look great in the pictures.”

  “Great,” I say in a monotone. “Anything for the pictures.”

  In the limo he pours me Martinelli’s sparkling cranberry juice into a plastic champagne flute.

  “So we only have to go to actual prom for an hour,” he says, excited, “maybe even less. Then we can leave and pose for pictures, take the limo to Chateau Marmont, where there will definitely be paparazzi. Is that good for you?”

  “Sure,” I say, trying to sound cheery. I’m feeling blue but don’t want to let it show. I’ve been looking forward to prom for a long time (okay, so this is sophomore prom, same thing), and I can’t let it be ruined by some dumb publicity stunt. Chin up, Harper, we all have to make sacrifices. That doesn’t mean you can’t have fun tonight.

  * * *

  We arrive fashionably late and the party is in full swing. The gym has been transformed into a winter wonderland with ice-blue streamers and plastic stalactites hanging from the ceiling, tissue paper snowflakes, opalescent balloons, and white, glittery fleece spread out across the basketball court. “Fancy” by Iggy Azalea is blasting from the speakers.

  “So, this is high school.” Dalton is grinning ear to ear as we stand in the doorway, looking in. “It’s just like the movies.”

  “What are the chances we can mingle without being completely hounded?”

  “Um, I’d say . . . zero,” Dalton says as a swarm of sophomore girls, my classmates, spot us and run to him. They all want to shake his hand, to get a hug, to take a picture, to just stand next to him so that for the rest of their lives they can tell the story of the time they stood next to Dalton James. I step back and observe the tangle of tulle and chiffon and lace and sequin that is now surrounding him. Man, I think, celebrity culture is weird, then slip away to go find Ellie, experience a brief moment of peace and quiet.

  “Ellie!” I call out to her when I spot her standing by the punch bowl in a turquoise velvet cocktail dress and matching heels.

  “Harper! Hi!” She sets her punch down and squeezes me tight, a little tighter than I was prepared for.

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  “Oh, yeah, I’m great. I can’t remember the last time I was around so many people my own age! Sixteen-year-olds are actually kind of like aliens to me.”

  “Trust me, I know. We’re freaks.”

  “Harper, you know Bryce, right?” She taps Bryce on the shoulder and he turns around. His boutonniere is dyed a toxic shade of turquoise to match Ellie’s dress.

  “Yeah, of course, hey!”

  “Hey, Harper,” he says. “Where’s your date?” His voice is snide, like he’s mad at me. I guess I don’t blame him; I basically ditched his friend for a celebrity. I’d be at least a little mad at me if I were him too.

  “Oh, he’s getting mauled by fans. But he’ll be fine, he’s used to it. Where’s Jack?”

  Just then Jack walks up, and to my complete and utter dismay HE’S NOT ALONE. In other words, he’s with a girl, but you got that, right? And not just any girl, but Jessie, also known as Jessica D. of, yes, the Jessicas.

  “Hi, Harper!” she chirps.

  “Uh, hi, Jessie. Jack?” I give him my best What the hell is going on? look.

  “Hey, Harper,” he says very calmly, “you’re here with a date of your own, so I thought I’d do the same. You’re okay with that, right?”

  “What? No, I am not okay with that! My date is an act. It’s just some dumb thing my agent is making me do!”

  “Did you expect me to go to the sophomore prom without a date?”

  “I don’t know! I wasn’t thinking about that!”

  “No, you were just thinking about your career.”

  “So this is you getting back at me?”

  “No, it’s nothing like that. I just didn’t want to come without a date, and then Jessie asked me, so I said yes.”

  “You’re not mad, are you?” Jessie asks. “I’m not like trying to steal him from you. I just figured neither of us had a date, so we should go together.”

  “You know what? No, I’m not mad. I’m sad. It’s fine, you guys have a great prom.”

  I’ve been at prom for only fifteen minutes when I find myself sitting on the steps outside the gym, my head in my hands. Tears roll down my cheeks, I watch them plop onto the cement one after the other. The sky is overcast and gloomy, June gloom in May, and I have goose bumps up and down my arms.

  “Harper? Are you okay?” It’s Dalton. “I saw you come out here. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.” I wipe my eyes. “It’s stupid. We can go back inside.” His hair is tousled, his collar has lipstick stains on it, and the sleeve of his tux is torn. Classy.

  “We don’t have to. We can leave. It’s a little early to get to the Chateau, but—”

  “I don’t want to go to the Chateau! I don’t want to do any of this dumb publicity stuff. It’s so insanely fake, I can’t stand it. Us pretending we still like each other just to get attention. “When your life becomes lying for the world, don’t you ever feel like . . . like you’re losing a bit of your soul?”

  “Oh, boy.” Dalton sighs and sits down next to me. “Look, Harper, I wasn’t going to tell you this until later, but the truth is, this isn’t fake for me.”

  “What?”

  “I’m not doing this for my career. Sure, my agents wanted me to go to prom with you so I
could work on fixing my bad-boy image, but I don’t care about any of that. The truth is, I pushed for this to happen because I want you back.”

  “What?”

  “I know I was a jerk to you, but you shouldn’t have chosen Jack. I needed this night to make you see that. Yeah, sure, he’s a fine guy, but you should be with someone on your level, someone who really gets you and your lifestyle.”

  “You broke my heart. You called me a nobody on national TV. Is that being on my level? Is that really getting my lifestyle?”

  “I was afraid. I was afraid you’d realize you’re too good for me, so when I saw a picture of you with Jack, I was ready to believe the worst. It was childish and cowardly of me, and I’m sorry. Okay? Sorry. Can you forgive me?”

  “I can,” I say after a few moments, realizing I’ve been holding my breath. “I guess I already do forgive you.”

  “Good,” he says, leaning in. “Because I really, really like you.” He leans in closer and closer until our noses are touching and his lips are seconds away from my lips.

  “Whoa, whoa.” I jump up. “What are you doing?”

  “I was going to kiss you, but I guess you have different plans.”

  “Yeah, I guess I do.”

  I know what I have to do. I dust myself off and stomp back into the gym, make a beeline through the fake winter forest scenery straight to Jack, who is in the middle of dancing the electric slide with a group of about twenty-five people—Ellie, Bryce, and Jessie included. But I don’t see any of this. All I see is Jack.

  “Jack!” I shout over the music. “This was a huge mistake. I told myself I had to do this for my career, but I was wrong. I don’t want a career that depends on me fake-dating a celebrity. I want a career where I can be myself.”

  “Hold on.” He takes my hand and leads me away from the crowd, trying not to disrupt the slide. But it’s too late. My classmates abandon their dance in an attempt to eavesdrop.

  “If I’m meant to be an actress, I’ll be able to do it without publicity stunts,” I reiterate. “I should have realized that earlier.”