Page 42 of Grunt: A Marine Romance

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SELENA AND XAVIERstood nervously on stage next to Eric and his partner, reality star Aubrey, awaiting their fate. Last night, Bret and Robyn had received an amazing score in the mambo, so they were safe. But someone was about to get the axe.

“And the couple leaving us tonight, Eric and Aubrey,” Matt said. Xavier gave Selena an excited hug. They would live to dance another week.

After the usual onslaught of interviews, Eric and Aubrey hopped into a limo to take them to the airport. They were booked on the red eye to New York for the losers’ round of morning talk shows.

Selena had been avoiding Dima since his fight with Bret. Though Dima had shown some maturity: he’d cut her a check for some expenses. Even so, they hadn’t had a real conversation since he ended their dance partnership. But he had agreed to a joint statement, that their publicist released last Friday afternoon—after all the tabloids had already gone to press.

“We have been partners on and off the floor for ten years. Unfortunately, we have come to the conclusion it would be in our best personal and professional interests to end our partnership. We will stay close friends and coworkers. There were no third parties responsible for the split and we ask for your respect and privacy during this difficult time.”

Selimawas dead. Their agent had tried to convince them to wait until the season was over to announce their split but Selena refused. If Bret wasn’t in the picture, she would’ve agreed to pretend, but she wasn’t going to jeopardize her newfound happiness.

That night, Dima and Selena had been scheduled to dance a show for their studio. But because they’d broken up, Vika offered to dance in Selena’s place. Which meant that tonight Selena could spend the entire night with Bret and not have to worry about running into Dima.

Backstage, Jenny rushed over with Selena’s iPhone and purse in hand. “I can’t believe we made it. One more week. I thought for sure this time we’d be gone. Let’s go celebrate. Here.”

Selena’s iPhone flashed as Jenny handed it to her.

From Bret (Mobile): Meet me at my hotel room in one hour.

Elizabeth came bounding from behind. She gave Jenny a big hug. “See! I told to you everything would be fine. Where do you guys want to go? I want to have a girl’s night. Let’s go to Nobu. I’m craving abalone.”

Selena stashed her phone in her purse. Jenny knew about Bret but Selena didn’t want to tell Elizabeth. Not yet. She barely knew what to tell herself. “You guys go ahead. I’m not in the sushi mood.” The reporters started exiting so they moved to the side of the stage.

“Fine, no sushi. Let’s go to The Ivy.” Jenny picked up her phone and started dialing. “Not a raw fish in that place.”

Selena winked at Jenny. “Not tonight, Jen. I’m super tired. I have an early drive to San Francisco tomorrow so I’m gonna just go home so I can get some sleep.”

Jenny looked at her kind of funny as if she understood, but Elizabeth was so happy-happy-joy-joy she didn’t give it a second thought.

“Then it’s just Jen and me,” Elizabeth chirped. “Sel, you call us later. I need to par-tay!”

“Oh, God,” Jen muttered as Elizabeth pulled her over to the lingering media. “We’ve created a monster, Sel,” she called over her shoulder.

Selena shrugged and gave her a thumbs-up, watching them disappear around the corner with the reporters. Bingo! Exit, stage right! Jenny was right though—just last season, Elizabeth had never set foot inside a dance club. Life as a Mormon was wild, wasn’t it? When they hit the clubs in Cabo, Elizabeth ordered sparkling water. Sometimes, when she really cut loose, she’d add a slice of lime. And no Starbucks? Where was the joy in that? Jenny and Selena had vowed not to corrupt her; Selena respected Elizabeth’s lifestyle and religion. Elizabeth reminded Selena of herself at eighteen—madly in love with Bret and unaware of a world outside the dance studio. Selena just hoped that Elizabeth was stronger than Selena had been back then.

But Selena wasn’t eighteen anymore—she was a grown woman and she couldn’t wait to be alone with Bret. She ducked out the back of the studio, called her driver, and told him to meet her in forty-five minutes.

She rushed to her trailer across the back lot and shimmied out of her dress before the door had even closed. Shower! Scrubbing the orange tanning cream off herself under the hot water, she marveled for the millionth time that a Latina had to paint her skin like some kind of coloring book. It was the dumbest thing ever—and God, did she hate the smell of the stuff. She nearly grafted her skin trying to loofa it off, but she still had orangey running streaks all over her body. She swore she looked like a stubby giraffe. She slathered on Palmer’s Cocoa Butter to mask the smell. Sure, she could afford the expensive creams and all now, but she loved her Palmer’s so it stayed. Her mane of hair was all over the place so she scrunched in some spray gel and stuffed it into a big, floppy hat.

Just as she finished up, her iPhone vibrated.

Twenty-three new messages? What the heck? Half of them were from Jenny—in the past twenty minutes. What was her problem? Selena already told her she didn’t want to hang out.

From Jenny (Mobile): Sel, check this out

www.perezhilton.com/selena-marcil-cheater

She clicked on the link.

“Not So Blind Item”

Filed under: Not So Blind Item

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