by Jen Calonita
“I asked her three questions before they whisked her out on stage,” I remind him.
“But you did it, didn't you?” Zac says. “Sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith, Charlie. Ask yourself this—are you going to be more happy that you said yes and were a little scared, or more upset that you said no and always wondered what if?”
I pull my cell phone out of my bag and look at the photo wallpaper of Taylor and me. Covering the concert was worth it. I look at Zac. “I think you just made my decision for me.”
Two periods later, I'm practically floating through the hallways. Zac asked me out! Sure, I'm nervous about what will happen, but I don't want to miss out on something that could be amazing. The same goes for the show. I have to give it a shot.
When I see the girls standing anxiously by Hallie's locker, I can hardly get the words out, I'm that excited.
“Zac asked you out,” Hallie says the minute she sees me.
I stop dead in my tracks. “How did you know?”
“He did?” she shrieks, sending the others into near convulsions as well. “I was just guessing! I didn't really know.”
“I think you have a career as a psychic ahead of you, Hallie,” Brooke marvels. “Not that I didn't think this would happen eventually.”
Hallie waves her off. “Tell us every detail. How did it happen? What did he say? Where are you going? What was he wearing when he asked you?”
I put my hands up to protest. “I'll tell you everything, just not here.” I glance around the crowded hallway. One thing about a small school is that all news—good and bad—travels at lightning speed. “And besides, that's not the only reason why I'm excited,” I blurt out and Brooke instinctively grabs her chest. “I'm in. I want to do the show.”
The girls throw themselves at me.
“You're not going to regret this.” Brooke hugs me tight. “This show is going to change all our lives.”
I squeeze her back. “I know.”
three
The Grass Feels Plush on the Other Side
Brooke lets out a scream so loud it could shatter the car windows. “Can you guys believe this? We're less than fifteen minutes away from being at a party with celebrities! Someone pinch me.”
“I haven't seen her this happy since Marc Zeaman dumped Sara Meyer in tenth grade so he could take Brooke to the spring carnival,” Hallie quips.
I laugh. If anyone is ready for a TV close-up, it's Brooke. Her hair is a trifecta of cool—smooth, shiny, and curly at the ends after spending hours in foam rollers this afternoon. Brooke said we had to go all Blake Lively, so she's wearing a black-and-white strapless mini she scored at the Off-Fifth outlet. It's just like one we saw on Gossip Girl a few weeks back.
Brooke insisted we meet to prep at her house three hours before we had to leave. We did each other's hair and makeup and basically let off steam—all four of us were so giddy and so freaked out that we couldn't stop talking about tonight. Brooke even
got her mom to call Keiran's mom and beg her to let Keiran get out of babysitting so she could do some primping with us. Brooke is usually pretty good at swaying the parents on things.
Yesterday that job fell to our new boss, Susan. Once we said we were on board for the show, she called our parents to thank them for saying yes and to invite them to dinner with her and a few executives in Greenport on Friday night. Our parents accepted and, of course, they had a ton of questions: What kind of show is this going to be? How do we film an episode? Will this interrupt our schooling? How were they going to keep us from becoming overindulged reality TV brats (yes, they're thinking of you, Paris Hilton)? Since Susan's vision revolves around me—something that still seems surreal and disconcerting—my parents were especially concerned about my schedule and how I would manage my job at Milk and Sugar, work as entertainment writer for the school paper, study for exams, and shoot a TV show at the same time.
Susan wowed every last one of them, including Hallie's parents, who were more than a little skeptical about having their daughter spend all her time filming something without them. Susan explained in painstaking detail how our filming schedule would work, what kind of commitment we'd be making, what our paychecks would be like, even though she'd be discussing that with each of us privately—you name it andSusan had an answer. Our parents were so chill by theend of dessert that they even agreed to let us go to the Fire and Ice party without them (which is great because who wants to meet the Jonas Brothers with their mom?). Susan promised to keep a close eye on us and to meet with all of us again next Wednesday to go over any new concerns we might have. She's hoping we can sign contracts as soon as the end of next week.
Everything is happening so quickly that I feel like I've dropped into a Disney princess movie and found my happily ever after in twenty-four hours! I can't believe it was a week ago that Susan dropped the bomb on me and now we're zipping along in Brooke's brother's banged-up Jeep Cherokee to go to some swanky eatery in the Hamptons for the Fire and Ice Network soirée. (Susan offered to send a car for us, but since Todd was going this way anyway, we declined. Mom said it wouldn't be right for us to take advantage of Susan's generosity when we weren't officially employees yet. I guess, but it would have been nice to show up in a Hummer limo.)
“We're going to be home by midnight, right?” Keiran sounds nervous as she chews on a strand of her hair. Brooke insisted on giving Keiran a full makeover for tonight's party. Keiran has on bronzer, smoky eye makeup, and flat-ironed hair. Brooke also made Keiran wear one of her own ensembles—she's always letting us “shop” from her closet—so now Kiki's in a cute black halter top and sparkly heels that go well with her skinny pants. “If I'm home even two minutes after midnight, I'll be grounded for a month.”
“Would you stop worrying?” Hallie leans over and hugs her, smacking Keiran in the cheek with her dangly silver earrings. Hallie has her hair up tonight, and little wisps hang down her neck. She opted to wear Brooke's super-short multicolored sundress, the one Brooke wore to her cousin's wedding last month. The dress barely fits Hallie, who has more curves than any of us, but the look works. “We will not let you miss curfew, okay? Todd is picking us up at 11:15.”
Todd grunts in agreement. Unlike his sister, Todd is anything but a fashionista. He spends all his time working on cars in the family's barn, so he's always covered in grease from head totoe. Underneath all that dirt, he's kind of cute in a scary, bad-boy kind of way, with his short dark brown hair and big brown eyes and his biker-chic wardrobe. He skipped college and works at a local mechanic's shop. It's just one more thing Brooke doesn't like to talk about.
“Kiki, you can't be grounded for a month,” Brooke yells from the front seat, where she's just turned up the radio to party mode. “We'll be filming by then.”
“We could be filming in a month!” I repeat in awe. I anxiously thumb the bottom of my bright blue strapless sundress. My hair is down and curly, per Brooke's instructions, and I'm wearing more makeup than my usual lipgloss and eyeliner, so my pale skin feels itchy under all this foundation. “Do you think this is really going to happen?” I wonder aloud. “Maybe they're talking to a lot of different girls about this show.”
“There is no way they'd sweet-talk all of our parents like that and spring for a pricey dinner if they didn't want us,” Brooke insists. “We are so in!” Her eyes are practically dancing in the glow of the streetlights.
“You really think so?” I ask. “This sort of thing never happens to me. Or us. How did we wind up being the ideal girls for a Fire and Ice reality show?”
“We were meant to shine.” Brooke smirks. “I keep telling you guys that we're too good for this cheesy little town! We're going to be famous and get so much free stuff.”
“Imagine if they start writing about us in Us Weekly,” Hallie shrieks. “I will die.”
“That would be awesome,” Brooke agrees. “As long as we're not fashion don'ts. I mean, I won't be, but you know…”
“This is all great, I kn
ow, but it is a little scary to think they'll be taping every second of our lives,” Keiran reminds us darkly. “I don't think I want to shoo a cameraman out of my bathroom so that I can shower.” She frowns.
I shake my head. “Susan said we'll have a schedule. We'll have days off and the cameras won't always be running even when we're working. It's going to be fine. They couldn't pay someone enough money to be taped twenty-four-seven.”
“I can't believe we're going to get paid to do what we normally do,” Brooke says with glee. “Hang out, shop, and talk. We're getting paid to talk!”
I keep replaying what Susan told us at dinner: “It won't be all games. This will be a lot of work. You'll be making an ironclad commitment to the network to shoot a full season's worth of episodes, with the option of the show continuing. But with that commitment comes a lot of perks. As I also mentioned, the paycheck will be better than anything you're collecting at Milk and Sugar. I'm talking enough money by the end of the season to pay for college and then some. A car, maybe more. On top of that, we'll be helping you with wardrobe for events and publicity; there'll be TV appearances, red carpet events. You'll be networking with Hollywood. Doors will open that you never could have imagined.”
My brain still can't compute everything Susan promised, and every time I try to process it, my head spins some more. College paid off? Networking with Hollywood's royalty? This sounds too incredible to be true.
“I feel like I'm going to throw up,” Hallie says hoarsely. “Our whole lives are going to change for the better if this really happens.”
We look at each other and start to laugh. Giddily. This is how we've been for days—on a permanent sugar high. The possibility of becoming famous can do that to you.
“Guys! I'm trying to drive here,” Todd grumbles. He brakes hard at a red light and the engine revs loudly. “Where is the invitation for the party? It should be on the next block.”
“You can drop us off here,” Brooke says quickly.
I know what she's thinking. She doesn't want to be seen in this car.
“Nah,” Todd peels away quicker than Brooke can unfasten her seatbelt. “We're practically there.”
I feel my stomach lurch. I can't believe how nervous I am. I'm about to go to a party I would normally read about in People! Our car begins to slow down as my pulse races faster.
“Everyone take a deep breath,” Brooke says, just as much to calm herself as to calm us. “We want to seem like smart, sophisticated, self-assured young women.”
“Especially you, Charlie,” Hallie adds.
“Why me?” I ask.
“Because you're going to be the star of this grand production if it happens,” Hallie reminds me. “And because you tend to get really nervous during stressful situations and, well, trip or spill something on yourself.”
Brooke groans. “Please don't spill anything on my dress, Char! I've only worn it once.”
“Guys, about this whole star thing,” I say uncomfortably. It's the first time I've ever really addressed it, but it's true. I feel strange being singled out from the rest of them, as if I'm somehow better than them, when I'm not. “You know I don't care about that, right? I don't want to be treated any differently from either of you. I'm not star material.”
“You are with us standing right beside you,” Brooke tells me and squeezes my shoulder. “Not that I ever like to play backup, but I guess I can try.”
“This is killing her, you know,” Hallie says to me. “Brooke would rather be doing The Brooke Show.” We all laugh.
“I admit it.” Brooke shrugs, her red hair flying around as the wind whips through the open windows. “I wish I were the lead, but I'm still glad to be here. Without Charlie we wouldn't have this chance to get out of Dodge. Thanks, Char.” She smiles gratefully and I blush. I know it took a lot for Brooke to say that.
We roll to a stop and I look out the window. We're in front of a restaurant called Nick and Toni's. The sign out front says closed tonight for a private party. The restaurant sounds familiar, but I'm not sure why. It's not like I spend much time in this part of town. The north shore we live on is mostly made up of farmland, wineries, and small towns, while the south shore has morphed into a mini-Hollywood. In the summer, celebrities flock to Amagansett, Sag Harbor, and the Hamptons as if they're giving away free face-lifts. Cover charges to get into clubs are high, Jimmy Choos are part of the dress code, and party invites are tougher to come by than Justin Timberlake tickets.
“Oh my God, I know this place!” Hallie tells us excitedly as it comes into view. “It's a huge celeb eatery. I see it all the time in Star. It's supposed to be impossible to get in here. I can't believe they closed it down for a party.”
Brooke practices her yoga breathing. “Everyone act like the stars we know we are,” she instructs us. “And Kiki, stop biting your hair! It's gross.” Keiran lets the blond strand fall from her mouth and colors slightly. Satisfied, Brooke closes her brown eyes, takes another deep breath, opens her car door, and steps out. The rest of us follow like cattle.
“Have fun, girls,” Todd tells us with a wink. “I'll be back at eleven-fifteen. That is, if I remember to check my watch.”
Brooke approaches a young guy in a perfectly pressed suit and a wireless headset who is holding a clipboard. “Brooke Eastman,” she says confidently.
The guy looks at his list, scanning the first page with his thumb and then the second. “Sorry, miss. You're not on the list.” At the same moment, he lets two people by him with just a nod of his head.
Brooke waves the invite in front of him. “Check again. I have an invitation. Susan Strom herself gave it to me, I mean us, personally.”
He doesn't seem to care who gave Brooke the invite. He gives a small smile. I think. “If you're not on the list, you're not on the list.”
“That's impossible,” Brooke snaps.
“Calm down.” I whisper and pull her out of the way. I give the guy a huge grin. “Hey there. Can you check again? I'm sure she's on there.” He shakes his head. “What about Keiran Weber?” Nope. “Hallie Stevens?” Nada. “Charlotte Reed?” I try.
After checking page two, he looks up at me and unclips the rope. “Charlotte Reed plus three. You're all set.”
“Figures,” says Brooke and Hallie nudges her. “What? I'm just saying that it's no shocker that Charlie's name is the one that's on there.”
“She probably put us on the list when she only knew my name,” I tell Brooke as I pull open the door. “She knows mine from work, remember?”
That's the last thing I'm able to say without straining my voice. As we enter the restaurant, the four of us stop and look around. Whatever Nick and Toni's usually looks like, I'm sure this isn't it. You can tell the restaurant is used to more restrained affairs. The walls are stark white, covered with folk and kiddie art, and there are tons of windows that don't have curtains. In the center
of the main dining room is a large wood-burning stove that is
covered in mosaic tile. One room of the dining area has been cleared to make way for a DJ, and through the window, I can see an outside patio that has Christmas lights on the canopy. Instead of people eating quietly at tables, the place is jam-packed. There are several large TVs playing music videos, and Fire and Ice shows, like Firing Up!, Peggy Pierce's countdown program that Brooke loves, and Surf's Up, this new reality show about extreme surfing starring all these hot guys, one of which I'm sure just brushed past me.
Brooke grabs me. “This feels so right, doesn't it? Like we belong here?”
I don't know about that, but it sure is fun to be a fly on the wall. I feel like I should be reporting on this bash for the school paper. “Should we look for Susan?” I ask. Everyone nods and we make a chain, like we always do when we're someplace crowded. Hands linked, we move through the crowd, going from one room to the next looking for an attractive thirty-something brunette with great taste in clothes. Unfortunately, a lot of people fit that bill. Everyone is so beautifully dressed and h
as such immaculate hair and nails that I almost feel out of place in this outlet mall dress, even if it is pretty. Suddenly Hallie stops short, pulling us all to a standstill.
“Oh my God, Oh my God, I think that's Connor Evans!” Hallie whispers in my ear, since she's directly behind me. “Would it be tacky if I asked him to take a photo?”
“Hallie, do you see who that is?” I hear Keiran squeak a few heads back.
“Connor?” Brooke asks loudly.
The guy turns away from the conversation he's having with some older dude in a suit and smiles the grin that has turned him into a household name. Yep, it's him all right. Connor's twenty-something, with brown hair, light stubble, and a bod that would make the Surf's Up guys envious. The physique is attributed to twice-daily workouts (according to TMZ.com) for his Fire and Ice–produced series, Cool as Ice.
“Hi there, ladies,” he says smoothly and strides over to Hallie. “Having a good night?”
“Now we are,” Hallie says, holding Connor's gaze. The two of them stare at each other, which you'd think was odd, but considering Hallie's looks, it's not. This sort of thing happens to her all the time. Brooke calls it the Hallie Triangle—as in the Bermuda Triangle. Men get trapped in her hazel eyes and are never the same.
“Do you think we could get a quick picture?” I ask.
“Who's going to take the picture?” Keiran wonders aloud.
“I can,” I offer. Connor's cute, but I'm more of a Robert Pattinson girl myself.
“You need to be in it too,” Connor insists and taps on a waiter's shoulder. “Do you mind?” he asks, taking the camera from my shaking hands and giving it to the waiter, who snaps three pictures before I've even blinked.
“I see you guys are settling in just fine.” Susan Strom appears out of nowhere wearing a sleek, strapless black dress and super-high heels. Her hair is pin straight and glossy. She leans forward to give Connor a quick kiss. “Connor, babe, good to see you.”
“You're looking good, Susan, as always,” he says with a big smile. I'm not sure how he's able to do that—smile and talk at the same time without looking dumb—but somehow he always does it on TV. “If you ladies will excuse me, there is a crab cake calling my name,” he adds, and with a wink he'sgone.
