CHAPTER ONE
Being Treated Like a Baby… Even Though I’m Not
This photoshoot was taking forever.
I lounged on one of the couches in the studio, staring at the ceiling and waiting for my brothers to be finished making their “sexy” faces at the camera. How any girl could fall in love with that was beyond me. My friends - Crystal and JJ - were out having fun somewhere, while I was stuck with my darling brothers.
Frankie was running around, hyped up on sugar. He was probably trying to get Mom and Dad’s attention, but they were busy watching Nick, Kevin and Joe smile for the camera.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out. A text from Crystal, one of my best friends. Still at the photoshoot?
I groaned and replied: Yeah. And the rental units aren’t letting me leave.
I placed my phone on my stomach and waited for her reply. Crystal was an actress, but not for Disney or Nickelodeon. She was a legit actress - like, Oscar worthy - and was revered by movie critics. She was only nineteen, but I’m betting everything I own that she would get an Oscar before her twentieth birthday. We’ve been friends ever since I moved out here, even though she was three years older than me.
My other best friend was JJ - short for Javon - and she was only a year older than me. She was in love with the drums, and practiced every time she could. She was a student at the Beverly Hills High School, and went to school with a bunch of big stars’ kids. She was down to earth though, and pretty mellow. She was one of the most awesome girls you could possibly meet.
My phone buzzed again and I opened another text from Crystal: Beg. Plead. Do something! Me and JJ are going to Millions of Milkshakes.
I sat up and looked around for my parents. Maybe if I groveled on my hands and knees they’ll let me out of this hell hole and let me have a little fun.
“Hey, Mom?” I said, hopping off the couch and walking over to her. She didn’t turn around, so I tapped her on the shoulder. When she faced me, I said quickly, “Crystal and JJ are going to Millions of Milkshakes… can I go?”
She looked like she was contemplating it like I was going to China by myself. She glanced over at Dad, who was talking on the phone with someone, and then down at the floor. Finally, she said, “Well… I don’t know.”
I almost stamped my foot like a temperamental little kid. “Mom, I’m sixteen. I think I can go to a milkshake joint with a couple of friends.”
Mom was always like this when it came to me going somewhere by myself or with a group of friends; in other words, without parental supervision. I don’t know why she was like this, mostly because she let the boys out by themselves without any problem, and they were the famous ones. It pissed me off. I am a functional teenage girl, Mother. Can’t you see that I can handle myself?
She sighed, thought some more, and then said, “Fine. You can go. But only if you call me after you get to the place and when you’re on your way home. Is Crystal or JJ going to give you a ride back?”
I also do not have my learner’s permit or my license, thanks to my overprotective parents. And whenever she mentions that Kevin or Joe or even Nick need to come and pick me up from some place, it’s like a knife to the heart.
Her darling Nicholas got his license at sixteen. Why can’t I?
“Okay,” I smiled to make her feel good, “I’ll call you. Thanks, Mom.” I hugged her briefly before I grabbed my phone and quickly texted Crystal: Where are you guys? Got permission from mom. Come pick me up, please?
“Honey, be careful, okay?” Mom called after me as I grabbed my bag and started to head out.
“I will!” I replied over my shoulder. I yanked the heavy studio door open and walked out into a long hallway.
Minutes later, I was riding in the back of Crystal’s Mustang convertible, my hair whipping around my face. “What’s up, ladies?” I yelled over the wind.
“Nothing much!” JJ yelled back. She turned around in her seat and beamed at me. “So, your mom actually let you out? I’m shocked!”
I chuckled sarcastically. “I know, right? I don’t know why they’re so weird like that. What did I ever do to break their trust?”
Crystal piped up from the driver’s seat, “You’re the only female child in that family. They’re bound to be protective of you, every one of them. It’s that male and parental complex, you know, need to protect their women and children.”
“Ugh.” I sat back and crossed my arms with a huff. Now that I was out of range of my parents, I could be as much of a brat as I wanted. I really wasn’t a brat, but sometimes they just frustrated me so much. “I hate being their sister.”
JJ gasped and faced me again. “Why would you say that? You have the sweetest brothers in the world!”
“They’re still brothers and they’re still members of the male species,” I retorted. “Come over my house and I’ll show you how gross and obnoxious they can be.”
“Stop complaining,” Crystal said quietly at a red light, “at least you have a family that’s still together.”
That shut me right up. Crystal’s parents were divorced, and even though it was several years ago it was still a tender subject. We, as a group, didn’t talk about it. Times like these, however, when Crystal needed to remind me just how good I had it, was when it came up.
We drove through the congested streets of LA and finally got to Millions of Milkshakes. Miley Cyrus was a frequent customer here, but today it looked like she wasn’t around. That meant no insane paparazzi.
I hopped out of the back of the car and stretched, the sun feeling really good on my back. It felt great to be out, on my own (or at least without constant parental supervision) and just hanging with my friends. Hard to believe that a sixteen year old girl didn’t do that often.
“Freedom feels great, doesn’t it?” JJ asked with a wide grin.
I nodded and pulled my phone out my pocket. Mom made me promise to call her after we arrived. I pressed a couple of buttons and then put the phone to my ear.
“You’ve reached Denise Jonas,” her voicemail message chirped, “please leave a message after the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.” Beep.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, “got to Millions of Milkshakes with JJ and Crystal. Love you, bye.” I hung up and quickly shoved my phone back into my pocket.
I caught up with the girls and hurriedly glanced over the expansive menu. I decided on a black and white (chocolate and vanilla mixed together) with Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. Can’t go wrong with peanut butter coated in chocolate.
Crystal got a banana split shake and JJ got a chocolate shake with ground up Oreo cookies. We sat on the curb outside and watched people go by as we slurped up the blended ice cream.
“So,” I said thickly, swallowing a mouthful, “how’s life?”
That was our standard conversation opener.
Crystal swallowed, thought for a minute, and then replied, “Well, my agent wants me to pick up that new Spielberg movie, the one with Brad Pitt and Catherine Zeta-Jones, but I really don’t want to go to the middle of Mongolia. Honestly, that would mean tons of vaccines and paperwork and I just can’t deal with that right now.”
She sipped her milkshake (we didn’t use straws, because it expended too much energy sucking the d.amn ice cream up a straw and it tasted loads better straight from the cup,) then continued, “I really want to do a movie with Ellen Page and Jeremy Whittaker, the one about the abusive family?”
I nodded. She usually told us about her potential roles and which ones she did or didn’t want to do. She picked the good ones, though, because there was buzz that the next movie she did would earn her a Best Actress Academy Award.
“I quit the marching band,” JJ piped up.
“What?” Crystal and I exclaimed simultaneously. JJ loved the marching band. She played the snare drum and was the best out of the entire percussion section.
“Why?” I asked, staring at her with wide eyes.
She shrugged. “I don’t know,” she replied, “I just didn’t like it anymore. I like a drum set better than just a snare, if you know what I mean. And I like that I can improvise on a drum set and not have to follow a bunch of sequent notes.”
I took that in and agreed with what she had to say. JJ was liked to branch out and try her own thing, and sometimes marching band interfered with that.
We finished our milkshakes and hopped back into the Mustang.
“Where do you want to go?” Crystal asked as we pulled out of the parking lot.
“I don’t care,” JJ said, “I don’t have to be home until seven.” It was only twelve.
“Why don’t we go to my house?” I said, “No one’s home because they’re probably still at the photoshoot.”
“Sounds good to me,” JJ said.
And so we went home.
