Welcome to Hayleywood

Chapter Thirteen: Uptown Getaround

            “Well, I have to say, they do look good; especially after the little spill we had yesterday,” Stacy eyed the gift bags and I could tell she was pleased.

            I was actually pretty proud of myself; well, I think I was more relieved then proud.

            “I must give you the next task,” Stacy looked at her assistant, Amy. I had just been introduced to Amy. She had white blonde hair and followed Stacy around like a little puppy. It was pathetic, and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the poor girl.

            “Amy, where are the papers I asked you to print out?” Stacy asked.

            “Um, hold on, just a sec-“ Amy, in a scramble, dropped the neon green clipboard she was holding along with dozens of white sheets. She reached down to pick them up.

            I squatted down to help her. I picked up some of the papers and handed them to her.

            “Thanks,” she said, brushing the beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

            “Sure,” I said and stood back up.

            “Here you go,” Amy handed Stacy the papers.

            Stacy leafed through them. “Okay, let’s see. Here we are,” she took out one of the sheets and handed it to me.

            “You need to go pull clothes for Ashley Tisdale’s photo shoot for tomorrow. On the paper is her size and a list of some of the recommended boutiques in Hollywood. Here’s $500 and the keys to one of the company’s cars. It’s parked out back next to the azaleas. Be back by four.”

            I stood there for a moment, dazed and confused.

            “Well, what are you waiting for? Chop-chop. You better get to it,” Stacy clapped her hands and left the room, Amy trailing behind.

            “Good luck,” she whispered to me.

            I’ll need it, I thought.

            I sighed and walked outside to the car.

            I hopped in, and started it.

            Time to shop. 

            I cruised down the street easily and parked next to one of the boutiques on the list. I dropped some change in the parking meter and walked down Melrose Avenue.

            There were so many shops I could barely focus on just one. Each had bright colored displays in the windows with complementary colors like hot pink and lime green. One store had a mini Eiffel Tower and another had a surfboard. Mannequins peered at you from every corner with their eccentric, even goth, outfits.

            I walked past them, unsure if the bright colors were too much my shades could handle. I stumbled across a store that looked bland-compared to the others, anyway, and my eyes settled.

            I sauntered in, the bell on the door jingling above my head.

            “How may I help you today?” I peered from under my aviators at the woman standing in front of me.

            She looked very fresh and clean. She wore all white, except for some expensive designer shoes.

            “Um, no, thanks,” I walked towards one of the racks and began leafing through some dresses. Even from afar, I could tell this woman was eyeing me carefully. It looked as if I did not belong-or maybe she just didn’t want me there.

The store resembled a winter wonderland and I just resembled a peacock. I was wearing a Beatles t-shirt, some high-waisted shorts, and my favorite Vans, which were kinda beat-up, but still.

             I picked one dress out, white, of course, and held it out so I could see it better. It was pretty, I guess.

            But, wait a second, how was I supposed to know what to shop for??? I had no idea what Ashley would like.

            I glanced at the sheet Stacy had given me with Ashley’s info. There was nothing really useful on it; just her sizes for clothes and some other scribble at the bottom that I could not read.

            I sighed and picked up some white linen shorts and a tank top.

            I purchased these three items, and as I left the store, I felt kinda hopeless. Maybe it had just been the store. Not me.

            I strolled down and entered all sorts of stores.

            I looked through the clothes carefully, yet I still couldn’t find something that said Ashley Tisdale to me.

            Maybe I was just giving this too much thought.

            Over the next few minutes, I gathered some bold colored shirts and some more plain ones. That way, I figured, she could choose what she was more into.

            By the time I had rounded all the blocks and spent the $200, I had purchased a lot. 7 fun print tops, 4 more on-the-plain-side shirts, 3 tank tops and shorts, 2 dresses, 4 shoes, and some jewelry.

            I honestly did not know what the hell I had just done. You could pair some of the clothing together easily, but I had no clue if she was going to like it.

            I drove back to The Scene and dropped off the clothes in yet another storage closet.

            Cameron was waiting for me outside at 4:00.

            I hopped into his car.

            “Hey,” he greeted me.

            “Hey,” I said back as I strapped on my seatbelt.

            “Well, was it any better then yesterday?” he asked.

            “Yeah, I think so,” I told him how I had to go shopping for the Ashley Tisdale photo shoot and how I had absolutely no idea if anything I’d bought was ‘good’.

            “It’ll get better,” he reassured me with a grin.

            I never noticed how cute his smile was. My heart skipped a beat, but I didn’t say anything.

            “So, you ready for Warped?”

            “Stoked, whose playing this year?”

            “I heard a lot of amazing bands. The Cab, Never Shout Never, The Summer Set, The Maine, We Are the In Crowd, All Time Low…a ton.”

            “Man, I can’t wait to get showered with John Ohh’s sweat,” I joked.

            “Yeah, I bet.”

            Then we just started talking some more about music. I realized Cameron had good taste in music and we liked similar bands. Which was good. It gave us something besides The Scene to talk about.

            We finally pulled up to my house, well our houses, and Cameron said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

            “Sure thing. I can’t wait,” I said as I got out of the car. And, unlike the other things I might have said in the past to him, I meant it.