Theodora Twist by Melissa Senate

Author:Melissa Senate
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9780307434050
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2007-12-18T05:00:00+00:00

Theodora

TO: [email protected]

FROM: [email protected]

SUBJECT: Changes to be made Can you talk to someone about building an extra room for me at the Stewarts? There’s no spare bedroom for me.

tx . . . TT

TO: [email protected]

FROM: [email protected]

SUBJECT: RE: Changes to be made As discussed ad nauseam, you’re sharing Emily’s bedroom. Point of the show, Theodora.

xoAB

TO: [email protected]

FROM: [email protected]

SUBJECT: RE: RE: Changes to be made I’m supposed to sleep in her room every night? Are you kidding me? WTF? Can’t they just film me getting into bed or getting up in the morning, etc.? I’m not sharing a room with someone for a month.

tx . . . TT

TO: [email protected]

FROM: [email protected]

SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: Changes to be made Yeah, you are. Be a good girl. Or find yourself a new agent (you’ll need one for your career in soaps). Or there’s always soft porn.

xoxo AB

“What is all that noise?” I mutter at six a.m., removing my pink satin eye mask. “Don’t tell me the paparazzi are out there already.”

Emily jumps out of bed and heads to the window. “Nope. There’s a line of twelve-year-olds in front of the house across the street. The little twerp who lives there is probably selling peeks into our room through his telescope. I used to babysit him—total nightmare.” She pulls the curtains tight and picks up the telephone on her desk. “Mrs. Harvil, this is Emily Fine from across the street. I think you should know that Lenny is inviting a group of boys into his room to try to see Theodora through his telescope. And she’s practically naked at the moment.” She peers out the window and laughs. “I can hear his mom yelling her head off. They’re all scattering like flies now.”

“Can I have the first shower?” I ask her. “I need to look camera ready when Vic and Nicole get here. They’ll want to shoot us waking up for my first day of school.”

“Sure,” she says.

As I stand under the delicious hot spray, I wonder why I told Emily so much about myself last night. I need to shut up. I have no idea whether I can trust her.

A half hour later, primped and ready and changed into cute new pj’s—a pink tank top with GIRL spelled out in glittering white letters, and white yoga pants—I head back into the bedroom. Emily is staring at me. “Looking totally natural takes work,” I tell her. “You’d better hop to it unless you want to be filmed looking that that,” I add, eyeing her hair. She has total bed head.

She glances in the mirror and sighs. “The curse of wavy hair,” she says, disappearing into the bathroom.

Finally, some privacy! I grab my cell and punch in Bo’s number. No answer. Only voice mail. “Hi, Bo, it’s me. I miss you—call me. Then I punch in Brandon’s number. Voice mail. Argh! I am so sick of voice mail! I leave the same message for him, then bash the phone against my pillow.

“Not working?” Emily asks, emerging from the bathroom with a pink towel wrapped around her head.

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