I So Don't Do Famous by Barrie Summy Read Free Book Online Page B

good,” I say.
    The band strikes up. Bright lights on stands are positioned at the front of the room. A couple of guys set up their cameras. Then, to a drumroll, a woman in a black pantsuit steps behind the podium. She introduces herself as the president of
Hollywood Girl
and spouts off the usual we’re-glad-you-all-could-make-it junk. She gives out a few awards. Kudos to sales for selling stacks of
Hollywood Girl
in Europe.The art department designed a cover that won something somewhere. Gloria Vasquez wrote an article that attracted a bunch of recognition in the industry.
    The butterflies are basically hurling themselves around my stomach.
    The clapping for Gloria dies down. “For the first time ever,” the president says, “we ran a writing contest for our teen readers. We asked them to submit five hundred words on true love.” She sips from a goblet of water. “We received many excellent entries. Many. But a certain entry stood head and shoulders above the rest.” She looks over at Dear Elle. “And Dear Elle, our extremely savvy, extremely popular love advice columnist will tell you about the entry and introduce the winner.”
    â€œPlease don’t faint. Please don’t faint,” I repeat under my breath.
    Amid thunderous applause, Dear Elle sashays to the podium, grabs the mic and proceeds to talk about her book. And her life as a writer. And then more about her book.
    My stomach settles. The microphone is Dear Elle’s best friend, and I am A-OK with this.
    After many minutes, Dear Elle picks up a gold chain. A heart-shaped medal hangs from it. She dangles it in front of the audience. “Can you get a clear shot of this?” she says to the cameramen.
    â€œGot it,” one of them answers.
    â€œSherlock Holmes Baldwin—we call her Sherry—wrote an amazing essay on love. She totally owned the contest.
Hollywood Girl
is beyond thrilled to have her with us this evening.” Dear Elle beckons to me. “Give it up for Sherry Baldwin!”
    My dad’s shrill two-fingered whistle slices through the applause. He perfected it at my brother’s soccer games.
    Like when you blend up all the ingredients of a smoothie, I’m a mixture of nerves and excitement. I stand and square my shoulders. I take a deep breath. This is my moment. I stride to the podium.
    Dear Elle grasps my shoulders and does the air-kissing thing. I gaze out over the crowd. Many pairs of eyeballs gaze back.
    Pushing up the corners of her mouth with her index fingers, Junie makes an exaggerated smile. As a reminder to me.
    I paste on a grin and look around. Lots of faces grin back. My heart beats wildly. I’m a winner. A Hollywood winner.
    â€œSherry,” Dear Elle says, cradling the heart pendant in the palm of her hand, “did you notice the diamond at the tip? Because, say it with me, people …”
    â€œDiamonds are forever. Just like love,” chants the entire room.
    Dear Elle grabs my hand and lifts it straight up.“Sherry Holmes Baldwin,” she booms, “our teen love expert!” She drops my hand and starts clapping.
    Thunderous applause. Flashing rainbow ceiling lights. Cameras on. I pinch my arms just to check that I’m actually awake.
    Still applauding, Dear Elle hip-bumps me. “This group is digging you,” she says out of the side of her mouth. “We’re going with it.”
    â€œGoing with what?” Suddenly, the butterflies are back in full nauseating force.
    Dear Elle just shoots me a sparkly smile. When the room quiets down, she says in a loud voice, “You know what I want to hear?”
    â€œWhat?” the audience shouts back.
    â€œWhatever Sherry wants to tell us!” She starts clapping rhythmically. “Sherry! Sherry! Sherry!”

chapter
nine

    A roomful of people clapping and yelling for me to make a speech?
    Ack. Eek. Ike.
    I thought grinning and gazing around would be