It’s another agonizing hour before the director finally calls it quits for the day and I may as well have sprinted to my trailer for my stuff. My mom is sitting at her computer, headset in place like she’s at frigging mission control. Which, in her mind, she is.

“All done for the day,” I say, heading for the bathroom and pulling out the makeup wipes to remove the day’s work off my skin. Experience tells me I’m less recognizable in public without Makayla’s face. I slip out of Makayla’s quirky uniform of super stylish jeans and artfully draped scarves and bangles, exchanging them for simple khaki shorts and a white tank top. I step into my flip-flops and brush out my long hair, combing through the hair spray as best as I can. I don’t know where we’re going this evening, but I want to go as myself.

Tonight is about Shelby and Cameron.

There’s a knock on the trailer door and I pull it open with a ready smile. My smile falls just as quickly. Lyle.

“Oh. Hey. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he says, looking bored and also boredly attractive, if there’s such a thing. Straight from a Ralph Lauren catalog. Classic all-American looks and a perpetual smirk, like he knows he’s better-looking than you. I fully admit I used to have a crush on him. For like a minute. Before I fell for Cameron. “Thought I might hit the town tonight. Want to come out?”

“I hate those clubs,” I tell him for the hundredth time. Lyle used to hang out with Cameron and me after work. We called ourselves the “trifecta of awesome,” getting ice cream and skating at the skate park. But then Lyle started dating this movie actress Ashley Sparks last summer and she introduced him to the L.A. club scene. I don’t even know how he gets into these places. He’s barely eighteen, the same age as Cam. “You’re going to get into so much trouble when you get caught.”

His expression is dubious. I swear he practices looking like a jerk in the mirror. “If I get caught,” he scoffs. “Dinner, then?”

I’m already shaking my head, my eyes darting around. Please don’t come right now, Cam. “Not tonight,” I say, leaning against my trailer door and crossing my arms over my chest. “What was your deal today? You forget to study your lines?”

He shrugs. “Maybe.”

I scowl at his indifference. “Well, quit it. It’s annoying when everyone else is prepared.” He rolls his eyes, pulling out a cigarette, and I tug it from his fingers. “Not here. Gross.”