Thanks to Alisha for writing such an ah-mazing blah-g while I was gone. I have to say, I saw her before I left and while she always looks stunning, she did seem more at ease. So I can vouch for the authenticity of her joyful ending. Yay office elf!

I also want to thank you all for your honest feedback regarding the title for Phoenix Five. The tribe has spoken. Most of you are not fans of the title. Soooooo I am in the process of tearing out my highlights trying to find a new one. Which I will certainly run by you before I commit. You did seem happy with the little teaser I posted so I am going to give you more.

In the (nameless) novel there is a letter from the mysterious person who leaks these journals but I’ll save that for the book and skip right to the first entry. This is from Sheridan Spencer. She uses a screenplay-type format because she is obsessed with acting. ENJOY!

Tuesday 9.6.11

INTERIOR. NOBLE HIGH—ALMOST LUNCHTIME.

A classroom stretches out before us. SHERIDAN SPENCER, an alluring freshman, sits center row, center seat. Poised, she click-starts her pen and writes.

Morning One as a Noble High freshman did not involve a lot of hand-holding. Like, none, in fact. Which was fine. It’s just not what I’m used to.

One might assume I do well in new situations because I channel celebrities for confidence. Like, right now for example, I am pretending to be Blake Lively. But if I’m being totally honest, which I am, first days are hard no matter how famous you act.

When I (as Blake) arrive someplace new I’m greeted right away. I’m given a tour of the set and offered a Dr. Pepper on ice, no straw. My trailer is decorated to my exact specifications; boho-chic and stocked with Original, Tropical, and Tart-N-Tangy Skittles. But this morning? Notsomuch. The only rainbow I tasted came from the Lucky Charms burp I tried to suppress at the Pick and Flick. (That’s what everyone calls the pick-up/drop-off curb.)

FLASHBACK.

It happened as I watched the taillights on my dad’s 750Li disappear into the morning fog. I was standing with my very best friend, Audri Dunsing. She always rides with me because we live in the same gated community and…well, more on her later. The point is we were just standing on the Pick and Flick because we didn’t know where to go yet. I guess we could have followed everyone else, but we were kind of stunned because our middle school was tiny and this place is huge. Anyway, it’s raining and I’m trying to open my zebra umbrella. Backpacks are bashing into us and it’s total chaos. O’course, that’s when Audri gets a whiff of my burp and decides to shout:

Ewwwwww, Sheridan! Digestive tract issues much?

I managed to apply more Russian Red lipstick, which helped me hold on to a bit of Blake. But not enough. I was seriously mortified. So I go: Sick! What is that smell? while fanning the air all innocent. Then I fan-smacked some older Blair Waldorf–type in the neck.

Sorry, it was an accident. (Me.)

You’re the accident! (Her.)

Remember those old cartoons where the coyote runs off a cliff and freezes in the air? It isn’t until he looks down and realizes he’s in trouble that he falls. Well, that’s kind of what happened to me when Blair and her friends started laughing. I realized I wasn’t really Blake Lively and my confidence took a dive—whistle sound effects and all. Which turned me back into me: Sheridan Spencer, future star of the screens, including but not limited to TV, film, computer, and tablet. Current blooper.

Anyway, I pull Audri off the main path and onto the grass lawn—which is huge, by the way. As big as Spencer BMW (my dad’s dealership), which has, like, hundreds of sedans and SUVs, and I go: Thanks a lot, Audri!

O’course she starts speed-blinking and I know exactly where this is going. Yes, I have a stronger stage presence than Audri. (I’ve played leads in Wizard of Oz, Wicked, Annie, Mary Poppins, Beauty and the Beast, Hansel and Gretel, High School Musical, The Little Mermaid, Grease, and six holiday tributes to the birth of Jesus.) But when it comes to fake crying? She’s the best. Our old drama coach called her Meryl Weep.

Why did you call me out on that burp? (Me. Not letting it go.)

Sniffle, sniffle. I’m sorry. (Meryl.)

She took off her signature blue-framed glasses, jammed them in the pocket of her Lucky Brand denim jacket, and wiped her wet cheeks. I rolled my eyes.

Watch those tears little freshman! (Some random blond guy.)

He had choppy layers and blue eyes like Niall Horan from One Direction. But zero of Niall’s charm. I’m guessing from his rounded shoulders that he underdelivered on stage presence too. Anyway, after the tears comment he said: I drove the convertible. If you make it rain I’m going to stuff you in my trunk. Then he jingled his car keys in Audri’s face the way my mom used to do with the twins.

What was that for? I asked after he left.

Audri shrugged and put her glasses back on.

FLASHBACK OVER.

Whatever Zero Direction meant about the rain, he was right. It’s been pouring for hours. The good news is there have been no further embarrassments. The horrible news is that Audri and I don’t have a single class together. Not even lunch. And so far no one has made any effort to meet me. Maybe tomorrow I’ll channel a more approachable blonde like Reese Witherspoon.

Ms. Silver just gave us the ten minute warning. So far she’s my favorite teacher. All we’ve done is write in these journals. She wants us to fill these pages by the end of the year. She swears she won’t read them. To prove it she gave us these leather cases with locks on them. She said she’d flip through the journals at the end of the year to make sure they’re full but that’s it. All she cares about is getting us away from computers. I’m going to record everything and eventually adapt these memoirs into a one-woman show. I can’t wait to tell Audri so she can do it too.

OMG! So the guy beside me has been scribbling furiously in his journal. Hold on. I’m gonna peek.

OMG! OMG! I side-eyed him at the exact same time he was side-eyeing me. It was a simultaneous side-eye. I smiled my eyes into narrow crinkles (like Blake’s). I must look fetching in my Russian Red lipstick because he got all nervous and looked away. And it looks like he’s drawing hearts!

Are his hearts for me? Is he even cute? I want to peek again but—

The bell.

To Be Continued…

END SCENE.

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