Being Audrey Hepburn

The cop car just sat there with its lights flashing but no sound. I assumed they must still be inside. Jess was right. Trying on a one-of-a-kind, million-dollar dress was a boneheaded move.

Oh crap. I walked Tabitha Eden out the service entrance in the back. I did leave the Met with the dress. They’d convict me in a second … you know, like shoplifting jewelry. Once you leave the store, you’re guilty.

A million tiny details of my crime gone wrong flooded my mind. Of course, the Met had dozens of security cameras everywhere. It was a museum filled with valuable things, for chrissakes. I mean, was it okay to grab a six-thousand-year-old pharaohs’ necklace made of gold and turquoise and dance around with it on your neck? Duh. No.

Surely they’d tracked every movement I made and had me red-handed, leaving the building in a hot Givenchy.

About six hundred people, including the most famous people in New York City, saw me in the dress, prancing around, laughing, and drinking champagne. How hard would it have been to pick out that dress on a security camera, with a tiara in my hair, no less? Security Joe, he must have told them.

It was eerie how the cop car just sat there, lights flashing, no sound. New Jersey’s finest. I gu

Jess flashed in my frantic thoughts. She was screwed way more than me. I had let my complete and total obsession with Audrey Hepburn drag her smack into the middle of all this. Jess would get blamed, even though it was my fault. I stomped on the brakes and steered the Beast to the curb.

Oh shit, I was the worst, worst friend ever.

The police were probably combing my room for evidence that very second.

Page Six. Oh, crap. What about Page Six?

I was sure the Page Six photo was up on my laptop. Mom probably saw it, or Courtney or my creep brother. Page Six was photographic evidence, now posted on the Internet for every DA in the state to see. I’d practically turned this all on myself.

In my rearview mirror, I caught a glimpse of Mom as she walked out on the stoop dressed in her worn yellow tracksuit. Her face creased with worry, leaning against the rickety railing, she lowered herself dejectedly to sit on the front step of our house like she was in pain, drawing on a cig.

She was sipping from her usual blue travel mug. Apparently, a houseful of police officers wasn’t enough to keep her from the booze. She pulled out her cell phone.

My phone buzzed, and I was terrified it was her.

Instead it was another text from Tabitha.

“Pop up party at the High Line !! Use Tabbycat to get in ;) XOXOXOXO.”

Jeez, the life of a party girl never seemed further away.

I stepped on the gas and headed for the only place I could think of.

13

The second she opened the door, I was sobbing so hard it felt as though I might implode.

“Well, this isn’t good, is it, dear?” soothed Nan. She squeezed me tightly and ushered me inside. I made my way to the couch on wobbly legs as Nan closed the front door.

Oh God, she knew. The police had probably already been here. I hoped Nan was okay. Should I have gone somewhere else? I was so wound up, I couldn’t think straight. Sinking down into the cushions on her worn velvet sofa, I inhaled the soothing essence of my Nan—rose oil and vanilla. She sat next to me, her arm encircling me tightly.

“Dearest, it’s probably not as awful as it seems right now.”

I sobbed. Nan reached for a box of tissues, and I felt my phone vibrate. I didn’t want to look, but I was worried it might be Jess. Were the police at her house, too?

It was Tabitha Eden again.

“R u coming ?!”

Jeez.

“CALL ME !!”

I was pretty positive that America’s pop princess wasn’t going to want me at that pop-up party once it hit the news that I was a felon, a couture con. I couldn’t even think what she’d say.

Of course I’d gotten caught. I’ve never gotten away with anything in my entire life. Ever. Unlike most of my friends, I’d never shoplifted, I’d never cheated on a test, I’d never snuck into a movie theater, I’d never pinched booze or money or cigarettes from Mom like Courtney always did.

I guessed the good news was that if I got jailed for Givenchy jacking, I wouldn’t have to confess to Mom that I wasn’t going to college and killing her “my daughter the nurse-practitioner” dream.

A fresh wave of sobs wracked my body. I couldn’t think of a single thing about my life that didn’t suck. Nan rubbed my back, her voice low and soothing.

“There, there, these things have a way of working themselves out,” she said.

Gulping deep breaths, I tried to speak. Nan looked at me with those kind blue eyes and pressed her cool, silky hand to the side of my face. Oh how I wished I could be Nan. All eighty-one years of her. To have her memories would be better than having my life.

“Not to sound disrespectful of your feelings, dear, but I’m a tiny bit surprised you’re so distressed about this,” said Nan.

“It’s a disaster!” I wailed. Of course I was distressed!

“I wouldn’t say it’s a disaster,” soothed Nan. “Ryan will probably just get probation.” Wait, what? “That would be the best for everybody.”

We were clearly talking about two entirely different crime sprees. An involuntary laugh bubbled up in my throat before I could stop it, like a hiccup. I swallowed, trying to shift gears.

“Ryan’s in trouble? What’d he do this time?”

“Isn’t that what you were upset about?” she asked.

I didn’t want to lie to Nan. I couldn’t lie to Nan.

“I came home from work, and there was a state trooper’s car in the driveway,” I said cautiously. “I freaked out and drove straight here.”

Question avoided. Jess would have strangled me if I told Nan. Which sucked, because I didn’t keep anything from Nan.

“Your brother set off the fire alarm at school. And then he joked with some kids he had a gun, but of course he didn’t.” Nan sighed. “These days, even saying something like that is practically a felony. I don’t know what gets into that boy. The sprinklers went off and flooded the gym. They put the whole school on lockdown. It was on the local news. Quite a big stir.”

“What was he thinking?” The knot in my gut began to loosen a little; I could almost breathe again. Ryan seemed as if he was going to end up in Rahway before he even got his learner’s permit.

“Your mom called here fifteen minutes ago, trying to find you,” Nan said. “She thought she saw your car.”

Oh great. If Mom called Nan, then she was really upset. They never talked.

“How’d she sound?”

“Not well,” she said. “She couldn’t find Courtney either. She said she feels abandoned.”

I groaned.

“Dear, it’s not your job to take care of your mother,” Nan said. “She can take care of herself.”

“I don’t want to go home. It’s going to be bad,” I said, burying my face in her shoulder. I felt like a big blubbering baby, scared and helpless.

“Yes, well it probably is a good idea to wait while she’s in that … condition.” We both knew exactly what she wasn’t saying.

“You can always stay here as long as you’d like.” She gave me a warm squeeze. “How about milk and cookies, and maybe a medicinal viewing of Tiffany’s?”

I nodded gratefully, and she gave me one last squeeze before she eased off the couch and headed into the kitchen. I’d totally dodged a bullet. Okay, maybe the cops were after Ryan, my delinquent-threat-to-society brother. But they could have been after me. Next time, I might not be so lucky.

I closed the drapes, grabbed the Tiffany’s DVD from its case, and popped it into the player. A healthy dose of Audrey. Or … maybe not. How guilty would it feel to see that dress again?

Grabbing an afghan from the basket behind the couch, I fast-forwarded through the outdated previews until I reached the menu screen so the movie would be ready when Nan returned from the kitchen.