She nods, but her expression is still sad.

I meet Paige going up as I'm going down. "That's all you're taking?" she questions me.

I shrug. "I'm sure it's more than enough."

"Maybe for you." She rolls her eyes. "Some of us care about how we look."

"Yeah, yeah," I call as I go down. "I'll tell Fran you're coming...and that you have like twelve more bags."

"Is that all you have?" Fran echos Paige after the driver takes my two bags and I hop into the back of the limo.

"I travel light."

"And you brought your camera too?"

"Of course."

"Wow, you do travel light."

"Well, the studio sent out clothes, right?" Suddenly I wonder if I dreamed that whole thing.

"Yes, of course."

"So I only need to bring clothes to wear when we're not not doing the show, right?" doing the show, right?"

"Right."

"And according to that packed schedule, that's not a whole lot of time."

"Point taken."

Now Paige is clattering down the stairs with two more pink bags. "Besides," I tell Fran, "Paige will be using most of the plane's cargo s.p.a.ce anyway."

Fran frowns. "I hope she knows that checked bags aren't free anymore."

"Do you think she'd even care?"

Paige surrenders the rest of her pink luggage to the driver, but when he can't fit the last bag into the trunk, he slides it into the back with us. "Looks like someone's moving away from home," he says to Paige with a twinkle in his eye.

"I just like having what I need with me," she says back.

"But do you really need need all that?" Fran asks as he closes the door. all that?" Fran asks as he closes the door.

"You're the one who said I should be prepared to do hair and makeup. That alone took practically one whole bag."

"Oh, right." Fran nods. "Now you want to tell me what's up with all that pink?"

"Surely you know," I tease, "that all princesses travel with pink luggage. It's their trademark. In fact, I'm surprised that no rhinestones were harmed in the making of that luggage."

"Very funny." Paige scowls.

"She begged for that set of luggage for her fifteenth birthday." I try not to giggle. "Now she's stuck with it."

"I'm only stuck with it until I replace it with something more elegant," Paige confesses. "I've got my eye on a Burberry Brit set."

"In the meantime, you're the Pink Princess." I pretend to bow.

"You can mock me if you want, but there's actually a very sensible side to my pink luggage."

"Really?" Fran nods. "I'd like to hear this."

"Well, first of all, pink is easy to spot in baggage claim."

"Yes." Fran nods again. "That does make sense."

"But besides that, it's a security measure."

"Security?" Fran looks puzzled.

"I have a suspicion that most thieves would not want to be seen making off with my girlie pink luggage. Plus, if they try anything, it'd be very easy to pick them out of a crowd."

Fran chuckles. "Well, aren't you the sensible girl."

Paige smiles smugly. "Whereas your brown luggage and Erin's black luggage...well, don't come crying to me if something goes missing."

"I don't know," I say. "I'm not sure I'd want to look like a pink princess just to make sure my clothes didn't get stolen."

"In your case, stolen clothes could be considered a good thing."

"Thanks a lot."

Fran is laughing. "You girls. Maybe we should try having a special sister spot on one of your shows, arguing like that. It could be highly entertaining."

"We could call it the sister spat spot," I offer.

But there's no time for spatting once we finally make it to the airport. Thanks to a wreck that shut the freeway down for more than an hour, we're already running late by the time we get to LAX. Fran has already called Leah to do what she can to get our flight changed, but just as we're being dropped off, Leah calls Fran to say she still hasn't found anything.

"We're going to have to run for it," Fran tells us as she dashes to snag a luggage cart for Paige to heap all her bags onto. "At least I thought to get our boarding pa.s.ses online last night." She frowns at Paige, who's wheeling a small mountain of pink. "But it might take awhile to check those."

Somehow we get our bags checked and it actually looks like we might make it through security, but then Paige gets stopped because she stupidly packed a bottle of perfume in her carry-on.

And to make matters worse, she's about to throw a hissy fit when she's told it'll have to be disposed of. Fran is long gone now, already on her way to our gate, where she plans to beg the flight crew to wait. And I was ready to make a run for it too, but I can't just abandon my sister here. So I wait...and watch...and it's like I'm about to witness a train wreck.

"But it's Prada Infusion d'Iris," Paige protests. "It's brand new and it cost more than one hundred dollars."

"Too bad." The no-nonsense security guard sets the expensive Prada beside what appears to be a trash container.

"Wait! I can fit it into my Ziplock!" Paige is scrambling to open her already full Ziplock bag.

"Even if you could could fit it into your Ziplock, it's more than three ounces," the woman tells her. "It has to go." fit it into your Ziplock, it's more than three ounces," the woman tells her. "It has to go."

"But what if I empty some of the perfume out?" Paige smiles hopefully. "Or I could use some. Look, it's only three point four ounces. I could use up point four ounces."

I look at my watch and know we don't have time for this. "Just let it go," I yell at her. "And come on!"

Just then, Paige reaches over and takes the perfume bottle, and I'm thinking bad move bad move, Paige. Paige. Really, really bad move. I give my sister the slash-throat Really, really bad move. I give my sister the slash-throat cut cut sign, thinking maybe she'll get a clue and stop this craziness. But she's not looking my way. So I just stare helplessly as the scene unfolds-it seems almost like it's in slow motion. Paige has her precious perfume in one hand, Ziplock in the other. She's trying to open the perfume. And the middle-aged, overweight female security guard is glaring at her as she says something into the Bluetooth wired to her head. Most likely calling for backup. sign, thinking maybe she'll get a clue and stop this craziness. But she's not looking my way. So I just stare helplessly as the scene unfolds-it seems almost like it's in slow motion. Paige has her precious perfume in one hand, Ziplock in the other. She's trying to open the perfume. And the middle-aged, overweight female security guard is glaring at her as she says something into the Bluetooth wired to her head. Most likely calling for backup.

Paige is totally oblivious to the guard as she liberally squirts perfume on herself like she thinks she's really going to use up nearly half an ounce. And then with a playful expression-maybe she imagines she's a department store fragrance salesgirl-she looks like she's actually planning to spray perfume on the security guard as well. Before Paige gets the chance, two uniformed guys swoop out of nowhere and my sister is literally tackled and, just like that, they pin her flat on the filthy airport floor. One guy, with his knee in the center of her back, cuffs her hands behind her as if she's a dangerous criminal.

Paige is screaming at them to stop, but it's like they can't even hear her or maybe they just don't care. And, although I'm stunned at how dumb she was-not to mention an out-of-contral diva-I can't help but feel this is a bit much.

"Stop it!" I yell at them, finally finding my voice, as I fumble for my phone. "Leave her alone!" With shaking fingers I hit Fran's number, watching as my sister remains pinned to the dirty floor. "Fran!" I cry when she finally answers. "Paige is being mugged!"

"Mugged?" Fran shoots back.

"By security!" Then I describe the scene and Fran lets loose with some colorful language.

"I'm on my way," she tells me. "Stay with Paige!"

"And call my mom," I yell back at her.

"Just stay calm," she warns me. "Whatever you do, stay calm. stay calm."

I keep this in mind as I approach the female security guard. Stay calm. Stay calm. "That's my sister there on the floor," I tell her. "Why are they-" "That's my sister there on the floor," I tell her. "Why are they-"

"Code four," the woman says into her Bluetooth while looking warily at me. "APT at SG twenty-one."

"But I'm not doing any-"

The next thing I know, I too am grabbed from behind, but thankfully I'm not thrown to the ground. Even so their treatment of me is unnecessarily rough, especially considering I've done nothing wrong, and I'll bet I'm going to have bruises to show for this little skirmish. Then, like Paige, I'm handcuffed. The nylon bands are so tight that my fingers start to feel numb.

"It's going to be okay," I tell Paige. "I called Fran and she's going to call Mom." I glance at the security guard woman and try another tactic. "My mom is a producer at Channel Five News and, trust me, this mistreatment will make tonight's edition if you don't put a stop to it."

She says something else in code into her Bluetooth and I decide to continue trying to talk sense into this woman. "I know my sister didn't handle this right. But I also saw how she was a.s.saulted and knocked down," I say calmly. "And you may not care that she's a celebrity with her own TV show, but I know her fans will also be interested to hear about this kind of treatment."

The woman looks a tiny bit worried and I'm feeling hopeful. "I know it was wrong of her to act like that about her perfume, but-"

"Be quiet," the woman hisses at me.

"Get these girls out of here," one of the other guards commands.

And suddenly two guys are flanking me and I'm being firmly escorted away. I glance over my shoulder to see that Paige is on her feet now and she too is being escorted away-but in a different direction. Her face is so pale it doesn't even look like her, and I wonder how is this possible how is this possible? All this nonsense over a silly bottle of perfume.

Even though I know Paige was really dumb to do what she did, these security guards are acting more like out-of-control thugs. And that's exactly what I tell the other security people when I'm brought to their office for what feels like an interrogation. After my shakedown, I also tell them about my mom being a news producer and that she's probably bringing our lawyer as well as Channel Five cameras. Not that anyone seems to listen or care. Maybe they think I'm making this stuff up. Finally, I just shut my mouth and silently pray for help.

Finally, a woman who introduces herself as Donna comes in. "We're sorry for your inconvenience, Miss Forrester," she says after my handcuffs have been removed and I'm attempting to rub the feeling and the blood back into my fingers. "Obviously, you are not a threat to security. But we do need to be careful."

"Your guards should should be more careful." I hold up my hands to show Donna the red welts those horrid handcuffs cut into my wrists. "They could seriously injure someone." be more careful." I hold up my hands to show Donna the red welts those horrid handcuffs cut into my wrists. "They could seriously injure someone."

"Our guards are trained to deal with criminals and terrorists," she says as she sets aside my ticket and boarding pa.s.s, and returns the contents of my wallet back to me. Meanwhile another guard has finished ransacking my carry-on bag. He opened everything and took it all apart and even examined my camera like he thought I was trying to smuggle state secrets in it. Perhaps he thought that is was really a homemade bomb. I wonder if Paige is going through the same kind of interrogation...and how she's holding up.

"But I'm not a criminal or a terrorist," I say for the umpteenth time. "And neither is my sister."

"I think we have almost established that, Miss Forrester, but we take all security risks equally seriously. It's for your safety as much as for anyone else's. And when your sister threatened the guard-"

"Threatened the guard?" I question. "With perfume perfume?"

"The guard had no way of knowing what was in that bottle. And when a pa.s.senger acts questionably like that, our guards are trained to think fast and act swiftly. For all our guard knew there could've been something toxic or explosive in that bottle."

"But there wasn't. And my sister squirted herself with it first. That should've proved it wasn't dangerous. And I could smell it clear over to where I was standing. It was obviously perfume!"

"We'll get to the bottom of it," Donna a.s.sures me. She's now checking my phone, writing down the numbers stored there like maybe my friends and family are cohorts in crime, or fellow spies, or crazed terrorists. And even when my phone rings, she doesn't let me answer it.

"We're going to miss our flight," I say hopelessly. Like I even care at the moment. Right now, I'm mostly just worried about Paige.

"There are other flights to New York," she says calmly.

But as I sit there, replaying this whole weird incident through my head, I'm thinking this is seriously twisted. I mean, I care as much as anyone about safety and preventing terrorist attacks, but to tackle a young woman for squirting perfume, then to hold us long enough to miss our plane, to be treated like criminals...And I wonder if what they've done is even legal.

Chapter 7.

After about thirty minutes of being impris-oned in this stuffy airport office, my things are finally returned to me. I repack my bag and am released-just like that. I guess they can't keep holding you if you haven't done anything wrong. Still, I wonder if I should talk to a lawyer. And, as I go through security and then wander down the terminal, I can't help but wonder if this all might just be a bad dream. Maybe I haven't even gotten out of bed yet. But my ringing phone jars me back to reality. To my relief, it's Mom. I tell her I'm okay, then ask about Paige.

"She's not with you?"

"No. I was being questioned by security. They treated me like a terrorist and-"

"I know. But we'll discuss that later. Right now we need to find your sister."

"Totally. What should I do?"

"Call Fran. She's still over there, on the other side of the security gates, trying to find where they've taken Paige. We'd hoped you two girls were together. I've arrived at the airport, but I can't get through security without a boarding pa.s.s. But I do have someone over here trying to help me sort this nonsense out."

"Right." I cautiously walk back toward the security gates. I seriously do not want to get too close to those freaks again. Who knows what they might do next?

"The reason I was so concerned for you girls is that we've done some news stories on this very thing," Mom explains. "I know some security agents can be pretty rough. And I'm worried about Paige."

"I am too."

"Oh, I need to go," Mom says quickly. "I think they've located Paige. I'll call you right back as soon as I know something for sure. But you find Fran and stay with her in the meantime, okay?"

"Okay." And just as I hang up, I spot Fran pacing near the security area with an anxious expression and her phone to her ear. I wave, then hurry over and throw my arms around her like a long-lost friend.