by Jen Calonita
“They won't cover either topic,” I say, changing the subject before it gets heated. “I'm going to be stuck covering arts and entertainment—which basically means zip—for the rest of my high school career.”
“You're never going to become the next Diane Sawyer if you keep letting those blockheads at the paper tell you what to write,” Brooke tells me. “Whatever happened to free speech? You're a better writer than half the people they have on staff. I've seen your English papers. I should know.”
“Charlie needs something exciting to write about,” Keiran agrees.
“Ooh! Let's make something up,” Brooke suggests, making me laugh. “We can say we found an alien baby near the Sound, or start a rumor that Brangelina and the kids are renting a house here this summer!”
“Who is going to believe that Brangelina would settle here?” Hallie wants to know.
Brooke takes another bite of her bagel and flashes us a mischievous smile. “Leave it to me, darling. If I say it, people will believe it. It's all in the details.”
“It's a nice thought, Brooke,” I tell her, “but I think my writing career would be over before it started if people found out I was creating my own news.”
“The Enquirer does it all the time,” Brooke says innocently. I shake my head.
“Okay, so lack of news is a problem in Charlie getting a front-page story.” Keiran steers us back on track and smears her bagel with cream cheese. “What are we going to do about it though? Aside from March's wine and cheese dinner at that new vineyard, and the fact that Cliffside Cinemas finally got rocking stadium seats, there hasn't been much news in town.”
“You can say that again,” Brooke grumbles, her mood darkening. She blows on her hot cocoa, sending whipped cream over the side of the cup. “Cliffside should be wiped off the map.”
We hate when Brooke talks like this. It's not like I want to stay in Cliffside forever; I want out of here for college too. But at the very least, I do like it here, even if every store in town closes by seven PM. I could definitely see myself someday spending summers here with my rugrats.
“I've never heard you complain about Cliffside during tourist season,” Hallie sniffs.
“That's because at least then we have the beach to keep us busy, and your parents’ dock for a little entertainment,” Brooke says.
Hallie's parents own a dockside restaurant in Greenport, just a few towns over on the North Fork (or NOFO as it's sometimes called. Brooke says it stands for “NO Fun On this side of the island.”). For actual five-star eateries and celeb sightings you have to go to the South Fork and the Hamptons. The Crab Shack is the name of Hallie's parents’ place, and it's always hopping with tourists and wealthy locals driving over on their boats. Hallie's parents do so well from the dock boat parking fees and their summer café of fresh seafood and salads that they're able to be off all winter (except for the dockings, which run through the fall and spring). They reopen for business next week.
“You're going to miss this place someday, Brooke,” Keiran says quietly. “You're going to miss us.”
“You're all coming with me,” Brooke insists. “Especially you, Kiki—you need to get away from all those screaming kids.”
“It's not that bad,” Keiran says, sounding unsure of herself.
“It so is,” agrees Hallie. “When I called your house last night, Joseph answered and started babbling and then dropped the phone on the floor and I had to listen to Stevie screaming for milk and Hannah begging you to put on The Backyardigans. Then Joseph came back on and started babbling some more before he hung up on me!”
“I thought I heard the phone ring,” Keiran says sheepishly.
“Would you please start leaving your cell phone on?” Brooke begs.
Keiran takes a bite of her bagel. “I keep forgetting. Mom and Dad were out late at dinner and I was trying to get the kids’ baths done. We can't all have fun jobs like you, Hallie.”
“My job's not so great,” Hallie says without a hint of irony. We all groan.
“You get to work at the café on the dock where all the hot guys are, including the ones that go to the Ross School, you get paid for getting a tan, and you get half the year off since the place is closed in the winter!” Brooke sounds indignant.
“I can't help it if there are cute boys.” Hallie grins.
“Who all want to date you,” I remind her.
“Not that you ever notice until they're sending you flowers.” Keiran giggles.
“Okay, fine, my job is cool,” Hallie admits. “But at least I work.” Hallie glances at Brooke and Brooke glares at her in return. This is a dance the two of them do all the time.
“I would never work you-know-where.” Brooke says the phrase fast, like it's on fire.
“Whenever Brooke says it like that, I feel like she's talking about Voldemort or something really awful,” I quip and Keiran and Hallie can't help but snort. “When in reality she's just talking about the—”
“Don't say it.” Brooke puts her hands up wildly, trying to cover my mouth.
“You are so touchy.” I laugh when she starts to tickle me. “What's so wrong with owning a—”
“Don't!” Brooke begs and now I can see she's getting upset. “Just sing. You promised us some Britney and if I'm going to get soaked in my gorgeous new boots you better deliver.”
“Okay,” I tell her. The others applaud as I stand up and go reclaim my mop-turned-mic. Grady and Ryan, hearing the commotion, step into the kitchen doorway and whistle. Grady's beloved All-American Rejects shirt is covered in chocolate, since he's just made another batch of his homemade double chocolate Tropic Thunder cookies (Grady is a movie junkie who likes to name all his creations after his favorite films). Irun behind the counter and punch up the tune. “I can't deny my public.” Then I break into full Britney mode, remembering some of the dance steps we used for the talent show a few years back and singing to the mop at the top of my lungs. When I'm done, I'm met with loud cheers. I bow.
“Ryan, when are you going to let her perform like this for real one night?” Brooke demands. “Charlie would bring the house down.”
“I would not,” I say with a laugh. “I only do this sort of thing when no one is here, or it's just you guys. You know I have a terrible voice. I couldn't do it, like, for real.”
“I think you should try out for the school play,” suggests Hallie. “You can act.”
Before I can tell Hallie how crazy she is, I hear more clapping and turn around. Susan is applauding. I guess I forgot she was here. “That might have been your best performance yet,” she says and walks over with her oversized Milk and Sugar coffee mug in hand. I notice she's wearing super-high heels. She strides gracefully over to the table—unlike I would in those shoes.
“Susan, I want to introduce you to my best friends—Keiran, Brooke, and Hallie.” The girls all shake her hand and look at me curiously. “Susan has been my number-one customer all week—or should I say my only customer. She's here on vacation.”
Brooke gasps. “I'm so sorry for you. Did Priceline.com do this to you? I hear they pick the most rinky-dink places sometimes, which would explain how you wound up here.”
Susan laughs. “Charlie said you were funny, Brooke.”
The girls look at me again. “I've been bragging about you guys,” I explain. “I've been giving Susan a little background on my Cliffside existence.”
“And you haven't left town yet?” Brooke deadpans. I swipe her with my cleaning rag. “EWW! Charlie, stop!”
“Do you want to sit?” Keiran asks Susan politely.
“I'd love to,” Susan says, before I can protest. I'm sure Susan wants to finish her book but doesn't want to be rude. “I was hoping to meet you three all week.”
“You really are bored,” Hallie says, and I glare at her. “I'm just saying.”
“Are you writing a book about small-town girls?” Keiran asks seriously. Hallie laughs so hard, she almost spits her drink out.
“Who ar
e you calling small-town?” Brooke pouts.
Susan holds up her hands in peace and then clutches her stomach, laughing. “You four are funny together.” She studies us carefully. “And each one of you is more beautiful than the last. It's amazing.” She stares at us, not saying anything, and I find myself getting uncomfortable. “And this town”—Susan glances out the window and around the room—“is the cutest thing I have ever seen.”
“It's dead,” Brooke deadpans, “if you haven't noticed.”
“What she means is, come back in the summer,” Hallie interrupts. “The wineries are awesome and the antiquing can't be beat.”
“When have you ever gone antiquing?” Brooke wants to know.
Hallie blushes. “I haven't, but I've heard it's good.”
“Have you all lived here a long time?” Susan asks.
“Yeah,” Keiran says and I'm surprised to hear her speak to a stranger. “My dad is a fisherman, Hallie's parents own a dock and restaurant, Charlie's dad is a ferryboat captain, and Brooke's is…”
“A local native too,” Brooke finishes with a bright smile. She can't stop staring at Susan's shoes. Are they Gucci?
Susan smiles. “Well, I think this town is anything but dead, and believe me, I've seen a lot of towns and a lot of girls. Especially lately.” She frowns. “I think Cliffside is picturesque and completely charming, just like you four. Not that I'm surprised. Charlie talks very highly of the three of you and I already adore her.”
Brooke elbows me. “Aww. Thanks, Charlie.”
“There's something I wanted to talk to you all about now that I have you together,” Susan adds and pulls something from her pocket. It's a business card holder.
She hands a card to each of us and I read the card carefully. susan strom, fire and ice network. executive director of creative programming.
So this is what Susan does for a living? Why didn't she tell me? Her job must be beyond cool. Fire and Ice is like the new MTV. We just started getting the network on cable out here. They air more videos than MTV and also have a mix of reality and game show programming during prime time.
“You work for Fire and Ice? That's so cool,” Hallie says in awe.
“I love Peggy Pierce,” gushes Brooke. Peggy is the host of their video countdown show and Brooke so wants to be her. “She's like my idol.”
“I can introduce you,” says Susan. “She'll be at a party we're throwing next weekend in the Hamptons. Next Saturday night. Would you girls like to come? As long as your parents approve, of course. They can come too. I'd love to meet them.”
Meet our parents? Go to a major party? I thought Susan just said she didn't know the area. If that's true, then why is she having a party out here? I guess it is on the other fork, but still. My amateur journalist mind is spinning.
“Us?” Brooke shrieks. “A Fire and Ice Party? We're so there.”
“I can't,” Keiran says meekly. “I have to babysit.”
“Kiki, cancel!” begs Hallie. “How often do you get the chance to go to a party with Peggy Pierce?”
“She's right, Keiran,” says Susan. “You don't want to miss this. If you give me your numbers, I'll even call your parents personally.”
“Um, geez, you're nice.” Hallie looks at her strangely. “Want to drive us there too?”
Susan smiles. “I'll admit, I have an ulterior motive. Can I tell you girls a secret?”
“Yes,” says Brooke, her breath short, but her answer quick.
“I kind of lied before,” Susan admits and looks at me. “Especially to Charlie. I do know this area. I've vacationed here before, and I'm actually in town scouting a new TV show. I've been all over the country doing it and I've been let down everywhere I've gone.” She looks at me. “Except here.”
“What kind of show?” I want to know.
“A reality show about regular everyday teens. Nothing flashy and overdone, just as real as it can get,” Susan explains. “I've been looking for my next stars and having a tough time.”
“Shut up!” says Brooke and Keiran nudges her. “Tell us more.”
“It gets better,” Susan adds, pulling her umbrella out of her bag. I notice it is Louis Vuitton. She pulls a twenty from her wallet and hands it to me as a tip. I try to protest but she waves me off. “I think I've found my star.”
“Who is it?” Hallie wants to know.
“You've got to tell us,” says Brooke, leaning across the table anxiously. “Is it Marleyna Garrison?” Hallie groans. “We know every teen in this town and we can tell you if you've made a huge mistake.”
Susan looks at me. “It's Charlie.”
I audibly gasp. Hallie squeals. Keiran just looks stunned.
“Charlie on her own TV show?” Brooke practically stutters and looks at me in shock. “That's… I mean, wow, Charlie! How cool!”
“Me?” I feel dizzy. “You're joking, right?”
Susan shakes her head and smiles. “You're exactly what I've been looking for, Charlie. You're vibrant and real and sweet and you have great friends.” She looks at the girls. “With them at your side, I think you could have an amazing show and hit home with our viewers.”
Brooke practically cries. “You want us too?” The color flushes back to Brooke's face. “You want all of us?”
Susan nods. “Charlie's Angels.”
“That's what Charlie's mom calls us,” Keiran marvels.
“I always thought it should be Brooke's Angels, but it doesn't have the same ring,” Brooke says with a smile.
Susan laughs. “I want you all. Obviously there's a lot to discuss together and with your parents. So if my proposal sounds at all interesting, maybe we can meet before the party to chat. Lunch on me?” We're all still too stunned to respond. “Anyway, I'll talk to you, Charlie. Call me tomorrow and I'll have invitations messengered over.” Susan looks at me. Brooke nudges me and I finally manage a nod. “I know this is a lot to process,” Susan says. “I'm going to give you guys some space to think about things. I really hope we can make this work. This is an opportunity you don't want to pass up.”
Susan gets up and gathers her coat, Hermés bag, and umbrella. The rest of us can barely move, let alone squeak out a goodbye. Is this woman for real? Does she really want me to be the star of a show on the Fire and Ice Network?
The bell on the door jingles and snaps me out of my fog. I look up and Susan's already gone, leaving the four of us behind, our mouths hanging on the floor.
two
Trust the Ones Who Know You Best
Three minutes after the bell rings we've already claimed the lone picnic table in the student-run garden outside the cafeteria. Brooke, Keiran, and I unpack our lunches while Hallie hits the lunch line to test out today's Philly cheesesteak. The air is breezy and I button my spring coat before sitting down.
The weather is still crisp during the first week of April—barely sixty degrees—but since we didn't want anyone learning about our TV show offer till we'd decided whether to take it, we needed a covert meeting place. I guess the garden was probably the right spot. We're the only people here. I'm sure everyone inside the cafeteria thinks we're freaks.
If my friends knew what I was thinking right now, I'm sure they would think I'm a freak. It's been five days since Susan dropped her bombshell on us, and the girls are ninety-five percent on board. I'm the holdout. The sun suddenly pokes its head through the clouds as if to listen in on mydecision.
I wish I had one. I can't sleep. I can barely eat. I don't know what to do! I pull a small spiral-bound notebook out of my messenger bag and place it on the table, opening it to the appropriate page. It says Reality Show—Pros and Cons. Pros are obviously the money (duh), the chance to impress college admissions offices (How many applicants can say they've already starred on their own TV show?), and—I'm ashamed to admit this—I know we are all thinking of the fame. My cons column says the invasion of privacy, the lack of time to study, and the effect the show could have on our friendship. Not to mention my future jo
urnalism career—how will I ever be the next Diane Sawyer if I've done a reality show? I've scribbled notes all over the pros and cons and I jotted down questions for the others. I spent last night doing my list instead of watching 90210.
I know what Brooke's response is going to be to my cons. No one in their right mind would give up the chance to have their own TV show. And she's right. I know she's right. But I still can't get myself to say “yes” yet. I have too many questions.
A TV show about me? ME? Brooke, I could see. Or Hallie. But me? What was Susan thinking?
Brooke pulls a sparkly purple flip pad out of her Burberry bag (an off-season purchase with an 80% markdown price. Shh!) and places it on the table. She looks at me. “What?”
“Nothing,” I say, staring at her. “Did you write notes too?”
Brooke rolls her eyes. “Char, you're not the only one who can come up with a pro and con list, you know.”
“I know that,” I say, indignant. I should mention that I'm the only one who takes the initiative to do one when we're all indecisive, but I don't. I also wish I could remind Brooke of the time Hallie's mom decided to take us all away for Hallie's sixteenth birthday and we had to figure out where to go. Or when we were debating being camp counselors for the summer at this camp called Whispering Pines (which was vetoed because we'd be too far from the beach). But I don't want to set Brooke off. “I didn't think you had a con list.”
“I have cons,” Brooke insists, then smirks. “Okay, they're not really cons, but…”
“Let me guess,” I say as I unwrap my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “ ‘Con: Peggy Pierce's job is the one I want and it's already taken.’”
Brooke giggles. “Exactly!” She snatches my sandwich, forcing me to look at her. “Char, tell me the truth—do you want to do this? I know you get stressed out easily and the last thing I want is for this to send you over the edge. If you want out, just say so.”
I lose my voice for a second. I know Brooke wants this more than any of us, and her saying that shows me she still puts our friendship first. She can be tough sometimes, but she's also amazingly thoughtful. Sometimes when Keiran is pulling a six-hour babysitting gig, Brooke will drop by with food. And when I'm dealing with boy stress, Brooke is the first to offer up a makeover or a sweater from her wardrobe to cheer me up. “I can't tell you how much it means to hear you say that, but I do want this,” I tell Brooke. “And I know how badly you do too. I want to say yes.” I hesitate. “I think.” Brooke sighs.
