Free Dial L for Loser by Lisi Harrison

replied in a chorus of cracked voices.
    “Cam, wait!” Claire shouted.
    “E-mail him later.” Massie clicked off the computer.
    “Ehmagawd.” Alicia threw herself onto Massie’s fluffy white duvet. “There he is.”
    The other girls squeezed beside her. And Bean jumped straight onto Massie’s lap.
    “He still has my phone.”
    “Who cares?” Alicia kicked off her Steve Madden leopard slippers. “Your new Motorola Razr is cooler.”
    “I know, but I miss the purple rhinestones.”
    “Shhhh.” Kristen lifted a finger to her lips. “We’re missing the whole interview.”
    The girls focused on the TV.
    “I love Ama-ri-cn cinema, Joanie, dawn’t get me wrung.” Rupert crossed his legs and rested a hand on his denim-clad kneecap. His blue Lacoste pique polo matched his eyes a little too well for the pairing to have been an accident, yet the cameraman seemed more interested in the pack of Big Red gum he was flipping between his fingers. “It’s just that the actors in yoh country ah such divas. I find them very unpleasant to work with.”
    “Have you cast anyone to replace Hadley Durk?” Joanie pulled off her cat’s-eye glasses and leaned forward on her stool. “I heard rumors about Tara LeWine.” She quickly put the glasses back on, as if they doubled as a hearing aid.
    “Right, well.” He tapped his thigh with the Big Red. “Tah-ra would be fabulous if I had anotha twenty mil in my budget. But I’m afraid I dawn’t.”
    The camera cut to a close-up shot of Joanie shaking her head sympathetically.
    “So I’m gaaw-ing to try something utta-ly revolutionary.”
    “Don’t tell me—a computer-generated actress?”
    “Hah-dly.” Rupert chuckled politely, then turned to the camera. He held Massie’s cell phone in front of the lens.
    “Ehmagawd!” the girls screamed.
    “Apple-C,” they screamed again.
    “I want to meet the girl who owns this celly,” he announced. “I want you and those little friends of yoz to audition f’ Hadley’s role. No mo’ divas. I wohnt a real, down-t-uth girl this time.”
    “Ehmagawd!” the girls screamed even louder.
    “Apple-C,” they screamed again.
    “Sounds exciting.” Joanie clapped her manicured hands together. She looked into the camera. “More on this revolutionary approach to casting after the break.”
    Massie automatically hit mute when a commercial for toe-fungus cream appeared on her screen.
    “Call the show!” Claire urged.
    “Wait.” Dylan ran out of the bathroom. “Call my mom. She’ll have his number.”
    “I’m with Claire,” Kristen said. “Call the show.”
    “Can everyone please calm down?” Massie got off the bed and paced. She needed to think about this. The last thing she wanted was for a famous director to think she was a desperate wannabe. At the same time she didn’t want him to think she wasn’t interest—
    Hola… hola.
    Hola… hola.
    Alicia reached for her ringing phone.
    “Hello?” When she heard the voice on the other end, she rolled her eyes and hit speaker.
    “… and since you ah the first name in the address book I fig’ad I’d staht with you.”
    “Oh, really?” Alicia shook her head in a what-an-idiot sort of way, then whispered, “Josh.”
    The girls covered their mouths and lowered their ears closer to the phone.
    “Yes, so, uh, do you know where I can find ha?” he continued.
    “Too late.” Alicia tugged on one of her braids. “She just left with Orlando Bloom,
Josh
!” She hit end and the line went dead.
    “His accent was pretty good.” Kristen giggled.
    “Puh-lease.” Alicia rolled her eyes. “My mother is Spanish, remember? I think I can tell a European accent when I hear one.”
    Pick up the phone.… Pick up the phone.…
    “That’s me.” Claire lifted the ringing Nokia to her ear. “Hello?”
    “I bet that’s him again.” Alicia tried to look annoyed, but her toothy smile betrayed her. She was loving Josh’s little flirtation.
    “Hit speaker!” Massie