Lulu in LA LA Land Read Free Page A

through her wildly messy hair, which hasn’t been brushed since dashing around this morning.
    LULU
    Not my thing, Lex, but gracias for asking.
    A moment of inspiration flashes over Alexis. It may have come as she watched Lulu spread salsa through her hair or when she worried that her own nails might not be cleaned, buffed, filed, and polished as scheduled.
    ALEXIS
    It WILL be your thing! Spa party! Fab-u-lous. Nails, hair, massage, waxing, facials. The works. EVERYONE demands, requires, craves beauty treatment. And HELLO?! Where are Linc and Fiona always dashing off to besides the set or the studio? Some grooming appointment, that’s what!
    LULU
    I always thought primping was just part of their work.
    ALEXIS
    Get with the program, Lu. Everyone in L.A. loves to looks great. It’s not a job! It’s a duty!
    LULU
    I don’t know anyone who would want to come to that kind of party. Well, except maybe you, Mom, and Dad.
    ALEXIS
    Guest list. I’m on it. I’ll get your school directory and the Harrison family holiday card list and get cracking.
    Alexis stands and grabs her purple Chanel purse.
    ALEXIS
    By the way, HELLLLLO?! You just said it yourself. Your PARENTS would want to go to THIS kind of party.
    Alexis turns on her high heels but halts. Both girls smell the odor. Looking under the table, they find Watson, minus his diaper. He’s just made a giant poop and is now eating the steaming pile.
    Alexis screams in horror.
    ALEXIS
    I hate that awful dog! What’s WRONG with him? He’s totally defective.
    LULU
    (defiant while holding her nose)
    I love puggy. Just think of him as the ultimate recycler!
    Alexis, totally grossed out, runs away. But before she’s out of earshot, Alexis shouts back toward Lulu.
    ALEXIS
    You better realize if I throw this party for you, you’ll be soooo lucky!
SCENE 4: FABULOUS IS COSTLY
    INT. ATTIC—LATER THAT SATURDAY AFTERNOON

    CUT!! Gotta break in here again to tell you about where I live. The Harrison house seems like a palace that most girls would dream about living in. Just not me. Nothing’s fun about living in a place where the rules are: No touching. No scuffing. No running. No moving stuff. No leaving so much as a pencil, seed, or crumb…anywhere.
    Our house is GINORMOUS. It’s hard to find my family—on the rare occasion that they’re home. We have an intercom phone system. I can’t remember when Mom or Dad has ever answered it.
    Here’s what my mother’s tooty-snooty decorator put in our house: lots of white and cream furniture. Lots of expensive English and French antique lamps and paintings. Nothing in my house, except in my bedroom, is for sitting with your legs up. Alexis and I are not allowed to keep any of our stuff around. Everything goes up into our rooms or into my attic playroom where nobody goes, except for me and my BFF, Sophia. Who wants to live in a place where you can’t put down a glass of chocolate milk? Where I live is more of a museum than a house. Back to: ACTION!!
    The attic above Lulu’s room has been converted to part playroom, part creative art space. Remnants of Lulu’s childhood fill the room: dolls, stuffed animals, wood blocks, a bubble-gum-pink Barbie oven, a plastic orange microscope, and a talking globe. A mobile of fairies hangs from the short ceiling. There’s a craft table, two chairs, paints, clay, colored paper, and markers. A flower press sits atop a bookcase loaded with books.
    SOPHIA is smaller and thinner than Lulu, even though they are both ten. She looks just like her mother, Eve, who moved to America from Japan when she was eight.
    As the girls sort recipe cards into alphabetical order, Watson sleeps in an old baby doll cradle. He’s swaddled in a clean diaper.
    SOPHIA
    My problem with making up recipes is the math. You can handle fractions and cups and liters and centi-milliliters like it’s reading a book.
    LULU
    Cooking’s just a science