"So I'm taking it you didn't bring up Cabo?" Liz jokes. The two of us were hoping to jet down to Cabo San Lucas for a little sun while I'm off from work, but I don't think that's part of Laney's schedule.

"Not even close," I say, eyeing another slice of pizza. Liz catches me.

"Go on." She grabs a second slice for herself. "It won't kill you."

I look around, almost thinking Mom will swoop in at any moment and have a fit, and pull another piece from the tray.

"Thatta girl," she encourages me. "First step is pizza, second is reminding your entourage who is actually in charge of your career."

Sometimes I envy Lizzie. Liz doesn't take garbage from anybody. She also eats what she wants when she wants. She says she burns up tons of calories in kickboxing, and what she doesn't goes straight to her "large and in charge Latina butt." "If it works for J.Lo, it can work for me," she says when we try on Lucky jeans at The Grove shopping plaza.

Liz is the type of person who has so much easy self-confidence that you feel good just being around her. She even gets to enjoy many of the same Hollywood perks I do, since her dad is in the business, without ever having to worry about the media concocting wacky stories about her.

HOLLYWOOD SECRET NUMBER FOUR: You don't have to be an actor, producer, or director to be treated like royalty in Tinseltown. Often it's enough just to be in the industry or a relative of someone famous. Publicists figure that by gifting celebrities' families free cell phones or passes to the hottest parties, the stars will eventually hear about what's being promoted anyway.

"I'm so frustrated," I complain wearily. "I just wanted a break from the Hollywood scene, you know? I'm not talking about giving up my job. Just a vacation from Sky, the tabloids, and my crazy schedule."

Liz stops chewing and looks at me curiously. "Unfortunately the baggage comes with the job," she reminds me gently. "Besides, it's not much easier sitting on my side of the booth. Sophomore year is rough. I just flunked my third bio exam -- which means Mr. Harding is going to call my dad -- I have a history term paper due next week that I haven't even started researching, and even though the Spring Fling is still two months away, I have absolutely zero date prospects."

"Okay, when you put it that way..." I roll my eyes. Liz throws an oil-soaked napkin at me. I toss it back at her. "I'd still gladly sit in class and let you deal with Sky and Hollywood Nation for a few weeks."

"You're a weirdo. You think school is fun." Liz makes a face. "Just say the word and I'll take your life. I could kick Sky's butt." She could too. In just a few months she's gotten pretty good at kickboxing.