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  A Little Less than Famous

  Sara E. Santana

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission for the author.

  Acknowledgements

  I don’t think some people realize how hard it is to write a novel. I enjoy it more than anything but boy, is it difficult. A Little Less than Famous would not have even become what it is without many people and many factors. If it weren’t for these people and these things, I probably would have either gone crazy or given up. I wish I could name everything and everyone who contributed in even the smallest way but I’ll thank a few.

  First off for my Dad, no one else believes that I’m a great writer more than he does. He supports me through everything and spoils me rotten, even though sometimes I don’t deserve it. Thanks for letting your twenty-five year old daughter still live with you.

  Secondly to my mom, I have to say thanks for instilling a ridiculous amount of love of books and writing into me. Without her teaching me to read at an insanely young age and showing me how much books could do, I would not write as I do.

  Thirdly, to the greatest siblings in the entire world, Robby, Jessica, Dink, Joey and Stevey. They are the five most important people in my life and they should never ever, ever, ever forget it. I love you guys more than anything and everything that you do inspires me to be a better sister for you.

  There is no greater lady in this world than my Nana. She can drive me bonkers and she makes me laugh and she literally inspires everyone who is around her. There is no one better than her

  I also have to thank all the amazing fantastic authors that I have the privilege of reading every single day. Writers from J.K. Rowling to Tamora Pierce and Meg Cabot and Sarah Dessen, Cassandra Clare and Cinda Williams Chima and so many, many more. Big thanks to Jen Calonita and Tammara Webber, without your fictional celebrities Kaitlin Burke and Reid Alexander, I have no idea what I would have done when talking about Jake’s celebrity life. My knowledge of celebrity life is basically nonexistent so much, much thanks. Ditto to all the celebrity magazines and entertainment shows out there. That was the easiest research I was able to do.

  To the music and TV shows that kept me sane while writing this novel: Something Corporate, Fall Out Boy, Panic! At the Disco, The Cab, The Band, The Beatles, Grizzly Bear, Doctor Who, Harry Potter, Sherlock.

  A million and one thanks to my best girls, Allison and Sydney, for reading this novel as it was written, when it was in its crappiest stage and both loving and hating it. Thanks for telling me what was good and telling me what was bad and helping me to see that it wasn’t ALL bad.

  For those of you who donated to this amazing novel, please enjoy it and please take a look at the very last page where I have named every single one of you because without each and every one of you, my dream would not feel so possible.

  And last, but certainly not least, to Jon: I love you so incredibly much and the amount of belief and faith that you have in me in my abilities is essential to the fact that this novel was even written. A Little Less than Famous would not BE if it weren’t for you. You are my biggest inspiration. Always.

  Chapter One

  I was five years old the day my mom left me and never came back. She dropped me off at the diner where her boyfriend, Luke, worked as assistant manager for his dad, also named Luke. It was her version of daycare. Luke, the wait staff and the cooks were responsible for me, whether they liked it or not. But I loved it there. I love the smell of coffee, and food hot off the grill. I loved all the pictures of famous old movies stars on the walls. I loved that they would sit me at the end of the counter, with a coloring book and crayons and I loved that all the regulars loved me and spoiled me rotten. I loved that diner.

  My mom dropped me off at the diner, as was her routine. I vaguely remember Luke being really pissed; what twenty-three old guy wanted to always be in charge of his girlfriend's kid? Somehow my mom smoothed it all over, in the way she always did. She was manipulative in the worst way and you usually wouldn't notice until later. She kissed me on the head and left.

  She never came back.

  I stayed the night with Luke, who lived in the upstairs apartment with his dad. This was not unusual. My mom was twenty-one, still ready to have fun and sometimes wouldn't return until the next morning. After three days, we knew she was gone.

  Luke and his dad filed a missing report but there wasn't much to do. There was no sign of foul play and her entire checking account had been emptied. All signs pointed to the fact that she just wasn’t coming back.

  So they started to make arrangements for me. I had no family that I knew of. My dad had died two years after I was born and my mom had run away from home at sixteen, when she was pregnant with me. It seemed likely that I would go to a foster home.

  I started to scream the second that they tried to take me out of the diner. I wrapped myself around Luke's leg and refused to let go. I didn't want to leave the diner. If I left, my mother couldn't come back to me.

  So Luke did the unthinkable, the unbelievable-he took me in. At twenty-three years old, he took full and complete responsibility of me. The upstairs office was cleaned out and it became my bedroom. Two years later, when it was so obviously clear that my mom was not coming back, Luke adopted me. I loved Luke. He took care of me when my mom got tired of me, protected me from her raging temper and took me in when I had nowhere else to go.

  Nearly eighteen years later, I still live in that diner. I am now the assistant manager and Luke owns the place. Luke’s dad, or just "Uncle" as I used to call him, was killed in a car accident just days before my 18th birthday. Together, Luke and I took it over and made it ours. It’s home.

  Luke's Diner is settled on one of the busier streets of Brea, a suburban city at the near northern tip of Orange County in California. It was the city I grew up in and loved. It was about 40 minutes away from Los Angeles and Hollywood, less than 30 from the beach and even less driving time to Disneyland. The community college I attended was only ten minutes away. And I loved the diner just as much as I did when I was five years old.

  * * * * * *

  "Honestly, Amanda, I really don't feel like going to Disneyland," I sighed, wiping down the front counter tops. Dave, one of the morning regulars, had brought by his daughter to the diner that morning and she had gotten more grape jam on the counter than in her actual mouth. "It’s August and it’s going to be so packed. I do not want to deal with it."

  Luke’s Diner had changed hardly at all in the past twenty-something years. Though people had urged Luke to remodel the diner, he had kept it just as it was. Uncle Luke had been obsessed with movies and movie trivia and had put up famous movie posters all over the diner. Luke and I had added some since his death, of more modern movie stars, since Uncle just couldn’t stand anything recent. There were old, beat up movie trivia cards tucked in front of the napkins and each of the tables were named after a famous movie star, though only the people who actually worked there knew the names. The regulars had caught onto the names and sometimes an occasional customer caught us yelling out “Fries to James Dean!” or something of the sort but for the most part, it was a staff secret.

  "Oh, come on, McKinley, it’s the last weekend of summer before we start school on Monday. Can we at least enjoy it before we're sucked into the endless abyss of homework?" Amanda rolled her eyes at me. Sometimes I thought Amanda treated me more like I was her mother and less like her best friend.

  I sighed, throwing down the towel on the counter. "How about, I just don't want to go. That's a simple enough statement."

 
Amanda dragged her eyes away from her People magazine for a moment and put on a pouty face, her lower lip protruding so low it was near her chin. "Oh, please, McKinley, please, please."

  Amanda James was my best friend and even though we had been friends for years, it still amazed me how different we were. Amanda was sweet, a little naïve sometimes and she always seemed to have a smile on her face. She was incredibly gullible; you could usually fool her without even trying to. She was obsessed with anything celebrity: the culture, the fashion, the hook-ups and the break-ups, every thing. She was always the life of the party.

  I, on the other hand, tended to be more serious. I liked to read, and spent most of time listening to jazz instead of the top 40 hits. I was quick and sarcastic and tended to have a wry sense of humor on things. Some people liked to call me cynical and pessimistic but I felt like I was more realistic than anything else. Of course, I was able to have fun and when I wanted something, I could turn on my charm quickly enough. And while Amanda had the good grades, I wasn’t dumb. I tended to think I was more people smart than book smart. And if there was one person who could turn me around in an instant, it was Amanda.

  I found myself caving in. "All right, fine. But I'm just going to wear this," I said, indicating my Luke's Diner work t-shirt and denim shorts.

  "As long as you don't wear the dirty apron, I don't care," Amanda said, waving her hand in an offhand way. She flipped a page of the magazine and sighed happily. "Jake Kennedy is so adorable, don't you think?"

  I rolled my eyes, sliding two plates off the counter behind me and, balancing them in my hands, hit the swinging door between the back counter and the dining room and delivered the plates to the couple sitting in the Cary Grant booth, a smile on my face. I left napkins at the table and returned to the counter.

  This conversation concerning Jake Kennedy was nothing new; I had heard it a million times before. "Jake Kennedy, while admittedly fairly attractive, especially with his shirt off, has absolutely no brain and no acting skills whatsoever. Crime Scene is a horrible show."

  Jake Kennedy was the most popular male actor, especially for pre-teen, teenage and young adult girls. He started on the show Crime Scene when he was 12 years old as Mike Jr., the son of Detective Mike Matlock (played by the ever so talented Cam Daniels), and slowly climbed the popularity charts, as he grew older and hotter. Now he was one of the main characters on the show, dazzling women-and some men-as newbie detective Mikey Matlock. He was known more for his horrible acting skills, and his ability to seize every shirtless moment on television. Amanda was absolutely obsessed with Jake and covered her walls with pictures of him, as if she was a thirteen-year-old instead of being nearly twenty-two.

  "You know, it being a crappy show doesn't really stop you from watching with me every Thursday night," Amanda said, slyly.

  "I do not watch for Jake Kennedy," I said, shortly.

  "Oh yes," Amanda said, looking up from the magazine, a smile on her face. "You watch for Mr. Cam Daniels."

  I shrugged. "What can I say? Cam Daniels is a very talented actor and a fine looking man."

  Now it was Amanda's turn to roll her eyes. "Let's just go okay?" She turned at the sound of the bells hitting the front door as it swung open. "Ah, perfect. Crystal is here to take over for lunch shift and we can go to Disneyland finally!" She hopped off the stool, wiping off invisible dust off her denim shorts.

  I smiled at Crystal, as she pushed her way through the swinging door and stored her purse under the counter. I untied my apron and tossed in the bin labeled "to be washed". As usual, it was overflowing, which meant I'd most likely be up late, cleaning aprons and dishtowels so we'd have enough for the next day. I grabbed my purse and my keys. "All right, Crystal, I'm out of here. It's been a fairly slow morning but you know how lunch can get sometimes. Luke is upstairs, working on payroll though if you need him."

  "Sounds good to me," Crystal said, tying on her apron. She pulled her hair back, sticking a pencil in the bun. Crystal was the only waitress besides me that Luke's Diner employed; she was just graduated from high school, with a toddler, and she was a hard worker. She was also one of my favorite people in the world. Even though she was young and had a kid, she didn’t let people judge her or take advantage of her. She was gorgeous and extremely smart, except, she said, when it came to the options of birth control and boyfriends. However, she loved her daughter, Addy, and Addy was adored by all.

  "Text me if you need me," I called over my shoulder as Amanda and I walked out the front door.

  * * * * * *

  "I told you," I said, grumpily, my arms folded tight across my chest. "I told you that it was going to be busy."

  "Do you always have to be so moody?" Amanda said, unaffected by my moodiness and merely checking her reflection in the window that ran along the side of the line we were waiting in.

  "I'm just saying. An hour and a half wait for Space Mountain is pretty ridiculous. Do you realize that I can come any day in January and wait only 20 minutes? This is ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous."

  "Yeah, you said that already. Why do you have to complain so much?"

  "Because I hate long lines," I said.

  "No, you just like to complain. And look, we're almost there," Amanda said, soothingly, pointing at the very few people in line in front of us.

  "Thank god, finally," I said, feeling extremely pleased that I had finally made it to the front. I stepped up to the attendant. "Two, please."

  He held his hand up to me. "We'll get you on in just a moment, ma'am." He waved over a couple of young guys from the exit to take the seats.

  "Oh, you have got to be kidding me!" I said, my temper flaring. "Why do they get to go first? We've been waiting for almost two hours now!"

  "Ma'am, we'll get you on in just a moment," the attendant repeated, looking slightly nervous. I tended to get that vibe from some people sometimes. Even though I wasn’t very tall-maybe only about five-foot four-and a redhead to boot, when my temper flared, I tended to scare people a little.

  "I'm twenty-two, not exactly old, so seriously, the 'ma'am' thing is a little unappreciated," I said. I pushed past him and went up to the guys who were starting to sit down. "Excuse me, but those are our seats. We've been waiting a long time."

  "Oh god, no, McKinley, they can have them," Amanda said, looking horrified. She pulled me back and whispered in my ear. "McKinley, that’s Jake Kennedy!" She smiled brilliantly. "You'll have to excuse my best friend; she's having a bad day."

  I looked past Amanda and saw that one of the boys was indeed Jake Kennedy. The first thing I noticed was that longish black hair and the second thing I noticed were those blue eyes that stared at girls from big screens all over the country. I flushed a little at the sight of him but my temper flared up a bit more. I hated when people received special treatment.

  "You know, I don't really care who he is," I said, sharply. "He's famous so he can just cut people in line? That's bullshit."

  Amanda was tugging at my arm while still trying to smile prettily and appear cute. "McKinley, please..."

  "Ma'am...miss," the attendant amended quickly, "I'm going to have to ask you to leave." He grabbed my arm-gently, of course-and pushed me in the direction of the exit.

  "You know what? Fine. Fine!" I said, throwing my hands up in the air. I turned on my heel and walked out, through the exit doors and back into the sun. I sat on a bench, taking deep breaths.

  "Oh my god, McKinley, I can't take you anywhere," Amanda said, coming out after me. "That was Jake Kennedy! Jake. Kennedy. The boy of my dreams!" She looked alternately angry and excited all at the same time.

  "You know, I really don't care, Amanda," I said, rolling my eyes. "And you don't even know him."

  "You probably totally just ruined my chances with the most amazing boy ever," Amanda said, sitting next to me.

  I started to laugh but stopped myself just in time and merely snorted. Even at twenty-one, Amanda was completely convinced that she was going to marry Jake Ke
nnedy and that they'd be perfect for each other. As much as I wanted to laugh, she was serious and she was my best friend. Suddenly, we were cast in shadow.

  "Hey."

  We both looked up and I nearly jumped in surprise. Beside me, I heard Amanda gasp happily. "Oh, hi," I said, shortly. I felt Amanda sit up straighter next to me. Jake Kennedy was standing in front of us, talking to us.

  "Sorry about everything in there," he said. "I'm Jake, by the way." He stuck out his hand.

  I stared at it for a moment and then up at him. "Yeah, I know. I'm not stupid."

  Amanda scowled at me and then turned back to Jake. "Hi Jake, I'm Amanda James; this is my best friend, McKinley Evans."

  Jake smiled down at us, perfect white teeth against his tan skin. His arm fell carelessly back down to his side, as if he hadn’t noticed that I had completely ignored his attempt at a handshake. "Look, I feel really bad about cutting in front of you in line. We were wondering..."

  "We?" I asked.

  "Oh, sorry, this is my best friend, Justin Wright," Jake said. He indicated to the boy next to him, a tall, blonde guy who looked highly amused, a smirk barely playing at the corner of his full mouth. "His dad is..."