Read Online Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen by Dyan Sheldon - Free Book Online Page B

too smart.” I took out the chunk of cheese and the apple I’d packed before I raced from the house. “He’d have noticed right away.”
    “Well, maybe they have creative differences,” said Ella, opening each container in turn.
    I wiped the clay from my apple. Everything in our house is covered with clay. It’s what you call an occupational hazard. “I think it’s much more likely to be personality clashes. From what I’ve read, Steve can be really selfish and bossy.”
    It was at that point that Carla Santini more or less joined our conversation.
    “Did I tell you?” she shouted. “My father just called me on my mobile to tell me what he found out about Sidartha.”
    Carla’s father is a phenomenally successful media lawyer who knows everybody who’s been famous for even fifteen seconds. He dines with movie stars. He gets drunk with famous musicians. He plays golf with producers, directors and television personalities. When she was six, Marlon Brando took Carla Santini on his knee and kissed the top of her head. She has a photo to prove it.
    “You’re kidding!” shrieked Alma. “You mean your dad talked to Stu ?” She sounded as if she were reading her lines from a cue card.
    The air itself quivered with the shaking of Carla’s head.
    “Stu told my father that he’s really angry about all the rumours that have been circulating about them,” blared Carla. “He hates the way the press always misrepresents things.”
    The disciples all murmured sympathetically – as though they cared what the press did.
    “So guess what they’re going to do?” squealed Carla, loudly enough to get a response from the house across the street. She paused dramatically.
    My curiosity was greater than my disdain for anything Carla Santini might have to say. I leaned back in my seat just a tiny bit. Was she going to say that Sidartha wasn’t disbanding after all?
    When not even Alma hazarded a guess, Carla took a deep, meaningful breath. “They’re going to have a big farewell concert at Madison Square Garden to say goodbye to all their friends and fans.” If anyone else in the universe had made that announcement, she would have sounded excited; Carla sounded as though it had been her idea.
    Alma, Tina and Marcia all started to sigh and screech, but Carla wasn’t finished yet.
    “And guess what else?” she demanded.
    I swear to God that the three of them gasped. “What?”
    “My father already has seats in the press box.”
    Alma, Tina and Marcia all went off like smoke alarms, but I didn’t blink. So this was Carla’s revenge. She didn’t even like Sidartha that much. She just wanted to get even with me.
    “But that’s not the best part,” said Carla once the noise had died down. “There’s going to be an absolutely mega party afterwards for all their closest friends.” If I’d had a pair of scissors on me, I think I would have turned around and cut off her hair. “And guess who already has an invitation?”
    I don’t know why I did it. I really and truly don’t. It wasn’t like I planned it or anything. But the smug triumph in Carla Santini’s voice really annoyed me.
    I turned my head so that I was officially part of the conversation.
    “It just so happens that Ella and I do,” I said sweetly.
    Carla Santini’s eyes locked with mine.
    “Oh, really?” Smug triumph now had a companion: sarcasm. Carla didn’t believe me. Which meant that no one else did either.
    I, however, was cool and unruffled; I was self-possessed. Ignoring the horrified expression on Ella’s face, I met Carla’s eyes.
    “Yeah,” I said. “Really.”
    There were a few darting glances and smirks around the table. Carla caught them all. A smile slipped over her face like a snake through water.
    “And just how did you manage that?” she asked.
    “The same way you did,” I immediately answered. “Through parental connections.”
    “Connections?” Carla made a sound that would have been a snort if a pig and not a