The Girl Who Became a Beatle Page 6

  Why did you just throw me into this? Without any preparation? Without any memory? I thought Fairy Godmothers were supposed to help their princesses!

  I addressed the e-mail to fairygodmother@gmail.com and sent it. Of course I didn’t expect a response. I just needed to vent a little. As I sat staring at the computer, something slowly dawned on me. Maybe I was truly on my own at this point. It could be that my wish had been granted and that was that. From here on, it was up to me to work things out. I reluctantly turned off the computer and trudged back to bed. The photo album, which I had tossed aside when I went to the computer, had fallen open to yet another picture of me.

  But this one was of me and Bradley Sawyer.

  There we were, smiling at each other on the set of P.C.H. The photo accompanied an article that explained why I was on the set of one of the most popular shows on television. “We Can Work It Out” had been on the show’s sound track, to much success, so a meeting had been arranged for me to stop by and say hello to the cast.

  I stared at the photo, transfixed. I mean, the way Bradley was looking at me. It was absolutely bizarre to see myself being devoured by someone’s eyes like that. Nobody had ever looked at me like that before. Remotely.

  So it was with some wariness that I flipped through the rest of the album, which filled in some of the blanks of my “relationship” with Bradley. The pictures showed the two of us hanging out in L.A. and—yes—there was a kissing photo of us as well. I’d become a kissing fool and didn’t even know it.

  The really bad thing I discovered in one of the mags was that I had apparently broken up with Julian after meeting Bradley. I couldn’t believe it. Why would I do such a thing? At least now I knew what Julian had meant when he said, “For old times’ sake.”

  As I looked at one photo after another of me and Bradley, I got to thinking, what kind of person am I in my new world? I mean, I simply couldn’t imagine leaving Julian for this bronzed, megawatt-smile Adonis. OK, I can hear you thinking, What are you complaining about? He sounds gorgeous!

  He is, definitely. And considering that I had nobody and no prospects just the day before I made my wish …

  But here’s the thing. It was pretty much impossible for me to picture myself in Bradley’s world. It was too … exotic, if you know what I mean.

  On the other hand, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to feeling a little tingle of excitement seeing myself in that world. With Bradley. Wouldn’t any girl want to experience that? Even if just for a little while?

  Bling!

  Startled to hear the familiar sound of my computer, I looked up to see that it had turned on all by itself! I slid off my bed, walked slowly to my desk, and watched as these words appeared on the screen:

  Sorry, Regina. I meant to get back to you earlier, but this is an especially busy time of year for me. I did manage to get to the concert, however. Yes, that was me helping you over the hump. But you did the rest. Great job!

  P.S. I forgot to mention something earlier before I had to scoot. (I’m so spacey sometimes!) If you have any further questions, log on to wish-come-true.uni. Gotta go! See you in L.A.!

  When the words on the screen disappeared in a puff of smoke—that’s exactly what it looked like—I sat down, logged on to the Net, typed “wish-come-true.uni,” and hit the RETURN key.

  Sure enough, a Wish-Come-True Web site quickly appeared. (Imagine, the Web has become so much a part of our lives that I didn’t think twice about a Fairy Godmother having her own Web site!) Before I could go any further, however, I was asked by a computer-like voice to give the name of my first pet.

  I had to think about that one. I had a turtle when I was around eight, named Clarissa, so I typed that into the blinking box.

  GOOD ANSWER ! ! ! !

  … flashed on the screen, and the plain-looking graphics dissolved into what appeared to be a live shot of a beautiful castle high in a snowy mountain setting, with a peaceful, crystal clear stream gurgling in the foreground. Very fairy tale–like. Words started to scroll up from the bottom of the screen. They read:

  Hello, Regina. First of all, welcome! Second of all, know this about your wish-come-true world. It’s anything you want it to be.

  If you just want to have a good time, it can be that.

  If you want to learn a few life lessons, it can be that as well.

  Or you can treat it like a game, where everything you do is like a move on a game board, which has consequences.

  Not all that different from real life, when you think about it. Life, after all, is what you make of it. But your wish-come-true world is very different from real life in one very important way.

  You have six days to decide if you want to stay in this world. For you, Regina, that would be the Grammys. Once you accept an award (Inside scoop: You’ll win more than one!), that’s it. You’re in this world forever.

  So have a great week! (And who knows, maybe beyond…)

  When the final line disappeared at the top of the screen, the image of the castle remained. And the mesmerizing sound of that gurgling stream.

  Several thoughts bounced around in my brain after reading the scroll of words. For starters, it was about time my Fairy Godmother had given me a clue about what was going on. God, she really was spacey!

  But I did feel a bit better about this new world of mine. It was just a game. At least that’s how I was suddenly looking at it. Of course I wasn’t going to stay in my wish-come-true world. That would be cheating, right?

  As far as the cheating part went, everything had been going so lightning fast since I got up in the morning that I hadn’t really given much thought to the fact that I was bogus famous. Famous on someone else’s songs. I hadn’t wished for the Beatles to disappear, however, so it wasn’t really my fault. Even still, a guilty kind of feeling had been lurking behind all the frenzied activity. Jabbing at me, you might say.

  But this solved everything! Now I could go to L.A. with a clear conscience, have a great time, then come on back home to my real world. No harm, no foul.

  But aaaaaahhh … nothing is ever that easy, that clear-cut, is it? That’s one of the things I was about to learn in L.A., anyway. Yes, folks, as I finally drifted off to sleep that night with visions of a Cinderella-like L.A. journey dancing in my head, little did I know that I would gradually morph into an altogether different fairy-tale figure.

  That would be Pandora.

  Just like that fabled character, I was about to open the proverbial box.…

  And discover what was inside.

  1

  Sunny Cal.

  Land of Make-Believe.

  Tinseltown.

  Hollyweird.

  I’ve heard L.A. called many names, but it all added up to one thing. The unknown. It was a mythical land to me. I could only imagine what it was going to be like, being there.

  Think about it. The surf culture. The Strip. The Dream Factory. L.A. was where all those wonderfully campy beach-party movies had been made. Where P.C.H. was currently being made. And to think I was about to land right smack-dab in the middle of it!

  But as our plane approached the West Coast, L.A. was still very much a mystery to me. I couldn’t see it, is why. A solid layer of clouds between the plane and the ground below obliterated even a glimpse of the place.

  Then, as a stewardess told us to be sure that our seat belts were fastened and our seats were in the upright position and all items were stored under the seat in front of us, we began our descent.

  And suddenly, we were inside the clouds. I was staring at pure white. It was as though we’d arrived in heaven or something. It was a lovely, peaceful feeling, actually. The calm before the storm and all that.

  Then, as if we’d fallen through a hole in that heaven, everything cleared and …

  There it was!

  It didn’t register at first. My first thought when I saw L.A. below me was, Could it really be that big? Not big in an up kind of way but in an across kind of way. You really have to s
ee it to believe it. The buildings and houses go on forever. They stretch as far as the eye can see.

  “Everything cool?” Julian asked. I had the window seat. Julian was next me. We were in first class, mind you. That had taken some getting used to, but it was clear to me when we boarded the plane that Dad and Julian and Lorna and Danny were used to all of this from our worldwide travels and kind of jaded about it. So I had to try to pretend it wasn’t the first time I’d been on a plane in first class.

  I hadn’t been able to mask my surprise at the sight of L.A., however, and Julian had just witnessed my wide-eyed wonder.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, trying to affect a slow, sleepy, seen-it-all-before drawl. “Why?”

  “You just looked kind of … surprised or something. Almost like you’ve never seen L.A. before.”

  “What? No. But you know … everytime I see it … it makes Twin Oaks look like a backwater town.”

  “That’s because it is,” Julian said, then he went back to his book. Unfortunately, he had resumed his cool attitude toward me after the concert. At least now I knew why. It was me who broke up with him, after all.

  When I looked around the first-class section, I saw that Lorna was asleep, Danny was flirting with a stewardess, and Dad was studying something in a loose-leaf folder.

  OK, Regina, I thought as the foreign buildings of L.A. rushed up into clearer focus. This is it! Get ready for …

  Recording sessions!

  Video shoots!

  The Tonight Show!

  In short …

  Rock ’n’ roll fantasy dreamtime!

  But as I tried to pump myself up for what promised to be an outta-sight week of nonstop excitement, I felt uneasy. I knew why. How could I truly enjoy myself while constantly surrounded by my surly bandmates?

  Maybe it was all part of the game. Something I had to work out.

  OK. I would. But first things first. Namely, settling into the Sheraton on the Strip, my new home away from home. As I pictured what it would look like …

  BAM! SCREEECH!!!

  Yelps of surprise erupted throughout the plane. The pilot immediately brought the massive hunk of metal under control after the bumpy landing and taxied it toward the distant terminal.

  Quite a wake-up call. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. It might have been a rude welcome, but at least we had officially arrived in the Land of Make-Believe.

  * * *

  Giddy. Disoriented. Already kind of time-laggy. I felt all of those things when we got off the plane and headed for the baggage claim area. Somebody by the name of Abernathy met us there. Everyone looked happy to see him. When he gave me a smile of greeting, I tried to act the part of someone who knew who he was.

  But when Abernathy led us out to the sidewalk and put our baggage into the back of a mile-long white Hummer limo, I laughed out loud. Everyone stopped in their tracks and stared at me. After an awkward moment of silence, I explained, “I just can’t get used to this.” Then I quickly hopped into the limo to escape the curious looks and slid along the plush white leather seats that lined both sides of the amazingly long interior.

  Lorna gave me one of her laserlike glares as she settled into her seat across from me. She was definitely the most suspicious of my behavior. I got the impression Lorna was going to do whatever she could to find out what was wrong with me.

  All just part of the game.

  I tried to act like a jaded rock star to deflect even more scrutiny from the person who was shaping up to be my Wicked Witch of the East in this fantasy world of mine. So instead of eyeballing the brand-new-to-me urban landscape as Abernathy drove us to our hotel, I grabbed a magazine from the rack next to my seat and tried to focus on the first article I opened it up to.

  Wouldn’t you know it. There was a picture of me and Bradley Sawyer.

  * * *

  The Sheraton on the Strip is located, where else, on the famous Sunset Strip. As we zeroed in on our hotel, I allowed myself a peek from behind my magazine to check out the ginormous billboards that lined the street. The four-story-tall movie and rock stars smiled down, godlike, on us little people below.

  Suddenly, there we were. I can’t even begin to describe the feeling when I saw us. It was just so totally out there and unexpected. The billboard was the Meet the Caverns! album cover, only a million times bigger. It hovered over the Strip, right across from the Sheraton, as it turned out.

  When we got out of the limo, I looked up at our half-shadowed, nonsmiling faces. We looked like ancient sphinxes or something. Inscrutable. Not giving anything away. But cool. Definitely cool.

  “I know. You can’t get used to that, either. Right?” Lorna said this with dripping sarcasm as she brushed past me and walked into the hotel. A group of paparazzi were snapping away nearby. They would have been right on top of us but were prevented from getting any closer by a long cordon and a couple of security guards. Julian raised his eyebrows at this latest barb from Lorna, then grabbed his backpack from the trunk.

  As I watched Julian walk in that cool way of his toward the hotel—the paparazzi documenting his every step—the word confidant resurfaced in my brain. I knew it could be very difficult getting through the week without one. And much less fun.

  So, yeah, a confidant. Someone I could talk to. Someone who could fill me in on the behind-the-scenes drama of Caverns Land. Dad didn’t fit that description. I’m sure Mom wouldn’t. Or my Fairy Godmother, from the looks of things. So that left Julian.

  But how could I talk to him about all this without his thinking I had totally lost it? That was something I had to figure out. And the sooner, the better.

  The paparazzi were calling out to me to look their way as a porter arrived to get my luggage. I gave them a quick, shy smile, then—before following the porter into the hotel—I gazed up once again at that amazing Caverns billboard.

  Well, Regina, I thought, you’re not in Twin Oaks anymore. That’s one thing for sure!

  2

  Turns out we had tickets (practically impossible to get, apparently) for the House of Blues our first night in L.A. The Black Eyed Peas were playing a benefit for Rock the Music! and the place was going to be packed with the cream of the crop from the music biz.

  “Trey says it’s a great photo op for the band,” Dad told us as we dined in the hotel restaurant on the top floor. Mentioning Trey, Dad’s voice definitely had an edge to it. The restaurant was practically deserted. At four o’clock, it was early for dinner, but not for us. Our stomachs were still on East Coast time.

  “I think I’m gonna pass on tonight, if it’s OK with you, Mister B.” Everyone looked at Julian, surprised. “I want to get settled in and ready for the week,” he explained.

  “Me, too,” I said, immediately realizing this could be the perfect opportunity to talk to Julian. In response to everyone’s stares, I added, “I’m still not feeling quite right.”

  “OK,” Dad said. “Lorna? Danny?”

  “I’m goin’!” Danny exclaimed. “Sure you don’t want to come, Regina? Sounds like a blast!”

  “It does, Danny. But I think I need some downtime.”

  Danny shrugged and gave me his happy nod. But then he frowned, and I got the impression he was wondering whether or not I was telling him the truth about why I wasn’t going to the House of Blues.

  As for Lorna, she said, cool as can be, “I’m in.”

  Dad handed tickets to Lorna and Danny. “Show starts at eight.”

  I was aware of Lorna giving me another one of her suspicious looks as I polished off my zuppa di pesce, which was really good soup, I have to say. Not to knock my dad’s—and sometimes my—cooking, but I’d never had anything like this at home, that’s for sure. Matter of fact, I’d never even heard of zuppa di pesce before that night at the Sheraton.

  We were finishing up our dinners when Dad said, “By the way, I got word that Chris Rock is going to be guest host when you play the Tonight Show.”

  “Cool!” Danny replied.
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  “Yeah, I thought you might like that. He’s doing the Grammys as well, so it’ll be good. You’ll already be pals by the time you get to the Shrine.”

  I was excited to hear about Chris Rock. Besides the fact that he’s one of the funniest guys around, I love Everybody Hates Chris, and the thought of meeting him was … actually, it was just too weird for me to even process. Like the huge billboard of the Caverns outside our hotel, meeting someone like Chris Rock was yet another thing that made my L.A. trip feel surreal, as if it weren’t actually happening.

  The surreal moments kept coming when I got back to my room after dinner. The light on my phone was blinking, so I sat cross-legged on my bed to figure out what numbers to hit to get my message.

  “Hi, babe! We’re filming late tonight, so unless you want to stop by the set, we’ll have to get together tomorrow. Give me a call!”

  I smiled and shook my head when I heard Bradley’s voice. He sounded like a lively one. But no way could I deal with Bradley at that point. Like a lot of things in my new life, he would have to wait. As I went to take a well-needed shower, there was a knock on the door. It was Dad.

  “Just wanted to stop by to see how you’re feeling,” he explained after I opened the door.

  “I’ll be all right. Wasn’t sure if I could take an exciting evening my first night in L.A., that’s all.”

  “I hear you.”

  “Want to come in?”

  “That’s OK. I’m going to crash.” Dad gave my room a quick once-over. “Room’s acceptable?”

  “More than.”

  “Listen, I also wanted to let you know your mom called. She’ll be here on Friday.”

  Let’s see, that was in … three days. Good. Another thing I could deal with later. I gave my dad a nod.

  “OK,” he said. “Night.” He gave me a hug, then as he went off down the hall, “Remember, recording session ten a.m. tomorrow.”

  Suddenly a young girl came barreling around the far corner and charged in my direction. Two security guards were right behind her. When she saw me, she yelled, “Regina!” The guards caught up with her before she got to my door. Dad barely acknowledged the struggling tweener as he passed her by. This was something he was more than used to.