Manuelo, the housekeeper-slash-cook was sitting on a chair in the living room. He had been practically a member of the family for years-especially now that Chloe and Riley's parents were separated. Now the girls lived in the beach house with their mother, while their dad lived in a trailer park nearby.
[Chloe: So why is my father staying in a dinky trailer when Mom, Riley, and I are in a fancy beach house? Well, Dad explains it like this: He's trying to find himself. And how can he do that if he's living in luxury? I say, how can you find yourself if you're not? But it works for him, so I guess it's okay.]
"Manuelo, you made your famous fried mushrooms!" Chloe cried. She hurried into the kitchen and brought a plate of them into the living room.
"Take a few and put them back, Chloe," Manuelo said, waving his hand. "Tedi is trying very hard not to even smell them!"
Tedi, a gorgeous, tall, dark-skinned model, was slumped on the living room couch. She modeled all the clothes for Chloe's mom, Macy, who was a fashion designer.
"Wrong," Tedi said, taking a deep breath. "Smell is all I'm allowed to do, so I'm totally into it. What else are we smelling today?"
"Well, if you stick around long enough we'll be smelling homemade veggie pizza with extra cheese," Manuelo admitted.
"Ohhhh." Tedi closed her eyes again and moaned.
Chloe checked out the outfit Tedi was wearing. It was a cute pair of low-rise paisley Capri pants with a matching orange and pink top. Even in her slumped position, her bare midriff was so flat, you could write a term paper on it.
What's she worried about? Chloe wondered.
"Tedi, you can't starve yourself," she said, popping a mushroom into her own mouth. She passed the plate to the model. "Go on, have one. You've got to eat to stay healthy."
"She's also got to try on string bikinis as soon as your mother gets home," Manuelo said, taking the plate. "I'm putting these back in the kitchen."
"He's right-unfortunately," Tedi complained as Manuelo left the room. "I'm not supposed to eat fried or greasy foods. I can't go to the beach and swim in the ocean because the sun and saltwater are bad for my hair. I've got to fly all over the world, so I'm constantly jet-lagged. I have absolutely zero time to myself. And even if I didn't, my agent won't let me do anything fun like in-line skating or windsurfing because I might fall and get an ugly bruise."
Chloe shook her head. "That's crazy, Tedi. You should be able to do what you want. What's the point of being a successful model if you can't enjoy life?"
"Totally," Tedi agreed. "I mean, it's a beautiful day outside, and the ocean is right there!" She pointed through the sliding glass doors, past the deck, to the water. "I should be able to go outside and enjoy it. Instead, I'm stuck in the house all day, waiting for Macy to do fittings. And I'm starving!"
Chloe picked up a bowl of fruit from the coffee table. "Want a peach or something?"
"No!" Tedi cried. "I want a milk shake!"
"Then have one," Chloe said. "A milk shake once and a while won't hurt. And take some time off, too. You deserve it! Hang out with your friends. Go in the ocean--even if the saltwater is bad for your hair. You have to have some balance in your life, Tedi. You can't work twenty-four/seven."
"You are so right!" Tedi stood up and headed for the door. "I'm going out for a milk shake. And I'm not going to let anyone stop me!"
"But--" Chloe watched as Tedi breezed through the front door. It banged closed. "I didn't mean right now."
Wow, Chloe thought, stunned. If I can talk Tedi into blowing off her diet, then I can probably talk anyone into anything.... Cool. Eric and I are going to rock in the West Malibu High debate!
"Wait, wait, wait. Chloe did what?" Sierra asked, setting down her mocha and pushing her books aside.
Riley and Sierra had just slipped into a booth at California Dream, their favorite beach hangout. Riley glanced out at the ocean, then back at Sierra.
"Well, for one, she wore my new shirt today without asking me," Riley said. "I mean, brand-new shirt. I've never even worn it once. And two, she asked me to join the debate team with her, and then she didn't pick me to be her partner! She teamed up with Eric instead."
"Okay, that's totally unforgivable." Sierra paused. "Unless she has a good reason. Who's Eric?"
"Cute sophomore. Dark hair, blue eyes, Ultimate Frisbee team," Riley said.
Sierra nodded. "Well, that's a good reason...but not good enough to leave you without a partner. You think she has another excuse?"
"I doubt it," Riley said.
"But you don't know for sure until you talk to her," Sierra said. "Just ask her about it. Don't let it build up into a whole thing. That would be the worst."
Riley considered what Sierra was saying. But she also knew that if she did talk to Chloe, they might wind up getting into a fight over it, and Riley didn't want that to happen. She and her sister practically never fought!
"I'll think about it," she said slowly, "but first I've got to figure out a way to help Larry get over his public speaking freak out."
Sierra laughed. "Good luck."
"What does that mean?" Riley asked. "You're going out with the guy. Shouldn't you be more...I don't know...supportive?"
"Oh, I'm supportive," Sierra said. "I mean, Larry's awesome. But I know how nervous he can get. I don't see why his parents are making him do this, anyway."
"I know," Riley said. "It seems like cruel and unusual punishment to torture him like that. Making him get up in front of people when he's terrified."
"Totally," Sierra agreed. "It's sort of like making someone who's afraid of heights join the rock climbing team." She tilted her head. "Or like making someone who's afraid of short skirts join the cheerleading squad."
Riley laughed. "Anyway, the worst part is, he and I are up against Chloe." She took a sip of her mocha. "That's going to be weird."
"Hey, my two favorite girls are here!" Larry cried as he walked in the front door. He knocked over two chairs on his way across the room to join them.
"And Riley," he said, shaking his head and gazing at her. "I must say, you look amazing with a mocha mustache."
Don't tell me that! she thought. She grabbed a napkin.
Larry burst out laughing. "Just kidding," he said. "But honestly, Riley--you would look great with a mocha mustache. You look fantastic no matter what you do."
"Yeah," Sierra teased. "So let me know when you decide to grow a mustache. So I can take pictures and sell them to the carnival."
"Shut up!" Riley smiled and gave Sierra a little push.
Larry laughed, too. "Isn't Sierra funny, Riley?" He gave Sierra one of his lovesick smiles, and she stared into his eyes, smiling back.
"So are we going to work on your public speaking skills?" Riley asked.
Larry nodded. "Maybe you can both help me," he said, glancing from Riley to Sierra and back again.
Sierra shook her head and nudged Larry to let her out of the booth. "No way. I'm not that patient. Besides, I've got to kick it to a band rehearsal," she said. "You two have fun."
"Say hi to Alex," Riley called as Sierra headed for the door. "Tell him I'll call him tonight."
Alex Zimmer was Riley's boyfriend and the lead guitarist in Sierra's band.
Larry wriggled back into the booth and finished off Sierra's mocha. "Okay, where do we start?" he asked.
Good question. Riley thought for a minute. Their debate topic was on why homeless people should be allowed to sleep in public spaces.
Riley hadn't really thought out all the arguments, but they were supposed to take the pro side, in favor.
"Just start with some kind of opening statement," she said. "Say something like: 'There are no good reasons why homeless people should not be allowed to sleep in train stations or in libraries.' And then go on from there."
"Okay." Larry nodded and pulled himself up straight. He folded his hands in front of him, as if he were standing at a lectern. He took a deep breath. "There are no good reasons why homeless people should not be allowed to...to..."
He glanced around the room and seemed to get a little nervous.
"...to sleep in train stations, heh-heh-heh," he said with a little giggle.
"Larry!" Riley whispered. "You've got to focus. Try to concentrate."
"Okay, okay." He nodded.
Riley checked out the room to see if anyone was watching them. Larry's giggle was sort of high-pitched. It made him sound like a maniac. "Start over, okay?" she said, trying to be encouraging.
Larry cleared his throat and put on a straight face. "There's no good reason..." he began.
But then he cracked a smile.
"...no g-g-good reason why...heh-heh-heh!" he giggled.
"Shh!" Riley glanced over her shoulder. A bunch of seniors were staring at them as if they were junior high kids who didn't know how to act in public.
"I can't help it," Larry said, still giggling. "I told you I get nervous."
"That's okay, we'll just keep working at it," Riley said. "But try to be serious. We're talking about homeless people here. It's not funny--remember that."
Larry sat up and tried to look serious. "Okay, here goes," he said firmly. "There is no reason why homeless people--"
As soon as he said "homeless people," he cackled again. By the time he reached the end of the sentence, he was laughing so hard, he was crying.
Oh, man, Riley thought, covering her face with her hands. Curing Larry was going to be tougher than she'd thought!
