Real As It Gets

Also by ReShonda Tate Billingsley

 

 

 

Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

Dafina KTeen Books
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

Table of Contents

For Mya and Morgan

 

... who are forever keepin' it real!

W
hen I was a little girl, I loved reading and writing. I loved to read a story, then rewrite it. I never knew that something I enjoyed so much would turn into a lifelong passion. But I am beyond thrilled that I get to create these stories for readers like yourself.

A lot of people always ask me where I get my inspiration. I get it from people like you—yeah, you holding the book. I can see someone like you out at the coffee shop, in the grocery store, or sitting in a classroom, and my mind starts to churning. The creative part of me goes into overdrive as I start asking “what if?” and begin creating stories.

I am eternally grateful to find people who appreciate my creations. So I begin this note from the author with a huge thank you—to all of the readers who crave my stories, who discover and appreciate what I write, and who continue to spread the word. It is because of you that I am what I am.

I also must give major love to my own drama queens, Mya and Morgan, who both wanted to help me write this book. At first, as the proud mommy, I was going to let them write a chapter or two. Then, they presented me with a written contract, saying they wanted forty percent of my money! Of course, I decided to pass on that deal. (Leave it to my girls to try and make a business transaction out of everything.)

I also have to shout-out my son, my husband, and the rest of my wonderful family and friends who support and nurture my literary career. Much thanks also to my hard-working agent, Sara Camilli, my wonderful editor, Selena James, and the fantastic publicity team of Kensington Books!

Thank you to Yolanda Gore and Rhian Collier for helping me stay on task. You guys are the best assistants ever!

Thanks also to the thousands of young people who have read, and will read, my books. Those who have emailed, tweeted and sent constant messages looking for more teen reading, I hope you enjoy. Special shout-out to LANES (Loving, Assisting, Nurturing, Educating, and Supporting Teenage Girls) in Orlando, Florida; the young ladies of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc., EYL programs; my wonderful Jack and Jill members; and all the youth groups and book clubs across the country who have supported my work. Thanks also to my wonderful teachers who laid my literary foundation, especially Lillie Lacy and Dr. Jocelyn Reed.

Thank you to the parents, teachers, librarians, and concerned adults who are putting these books in young people's hands, as well as to all my friends on social media. And finally, thank you to my fabulous teen advisory board, which helps me keep it real.

 

Well, enough from me. Make sure you hit me up and let me know what you think. If you've missed the other books in the series, please make sure you check them out!

 

Much Love,

ReShonda

T
he image on the screen gave me chills.

I knew Savannah Vanderpool. She was a beautiful former Miss Teen Miami who had branched out to movies. We'd taken some modeling classes together when I was in middle school and although I didn't talk to her much anymore, we kept in touch through Instagram and Twitter. It wasn't often that I gave other girls props. But Savannah had earned hers. She was Beyoncé, Ciara, and Meagan Good rolled up into one. A class act, that's who Savannah was.

Because this chick I was looking at right then, was anything but classy. She looked like a crackhead, meth head, and dope fiend rolled up into one.

Savannah's eyes were sunken, almost like her face was swallowing them. She had dark circles around her eyes and her face was taut and dry. Her skin was sagging, looking like it was just hanging on to her bones. Her once-beautiful blond hair was stringy and the dark roots were showing. The only modeling she could do now would be in a “just say no” drug ad.

“Maya,” my director, Manny, whispered in my earpiece. “Go! You're live!”

I caught myself. I didn't usually let anything get me off my game when I was in hosting mode at my talk show,
Rumor Central,
but seeing Savannah's picture had definitely left me speechless.

“Wow, I guess you can say I'm a little stunned myself,” I continued, turning my attention back to the camera. “If you knew Savannah Vanderpool like I knew Savannah Vanderpool, you'd be just as shocked.”

We'd gotten the story about Savannah being arrested just minutes before I was going on the air. My producer, Dexter, had handed me a sheet with some limited information and told me to wing it. I had no problem with that because dishing dirt was what had made me so popular on
Rumor Central.
I was even used to dishing dirt about my friends, especially because I was usually the one who had dug up the dirt. Even though I'd stopped airing my friends' dirty laundry, I had no problem digging in other celebrities' backyards. I had to. Since I started
Rumor Central
four months before, it had become one of the hottest gossip shows in the country. We were now shown in seventeen major cities and my popularity was through the roof. Celebs as big as Usher and Rihanna called me when they wanted to “slip” out a little gossip, and other celebrities tried to become my best friends to keep their dirt off the air. So, a little scandalous story never shocked me. But this picture of Savannah—I wasn't ready for that.

“This is just in to the
Rumor Central
studios,” I continued, “so we haven't been able to get all the details, but rumor has it that this mug shot is from Savannah's arrest last night after she caused a scene at the
Sports Illustrated
reception. Apparently, she arrived to the event high, dazed, and acting out. Witnesses say she was actually in a psychotic-like state. Organizers saw her and refused to let her go on stage. We're told Savannah was so high that she took off all her clothes and began running through the party screaming and crying as she destroyed everything in sight.”

I took a deep breath as an earlier photo of Savannah as Miss Teen Miami flashed on the screen.

I continued. “Our sources tell us Savannah was high on K2, a hyped-up version of Kush, the popular synthetic drug sweeping the country. We don't know much about K2, but you'd better believe that
Rumor Central
is all over this story and we'll keep you updated. I'm your girl, Maya Morgan, and we'll be back right after this.”

I tossed to the break and motioned for my new assistant, Yolanda, to get me some water. Usually, we kept it light and gossipy on
Rumor Central
. I didn't get all deep into stories, and this was exactly the reason why. These kinds of stories were just too much.

“You okay?” Yolanda asked as she handed me a cooled bottle of Fiji Water.

I took a sip of the water. “Yeah, just trippin' over that picture.” I glanced over at the photo, which was still up on the monitor. I'd seen Savannah about six months before and she had looked fine. How could someone get like that in just a few months?

Dexter came over to me on the set as Yolanda scurried away.

“Great job, Maya. I got some more details. Apparently, this K2 is more powerful than Kush, and it's getting really hot among celebrities. It looks like spices, or potpourri, and they say it was created in China or Korea as a plant growth stimulant. It's about ten times more potent than meth.”

“Just wow,” I said, shaking my head again at the picture. I knew some celebs that dabbled in drugs, but judging from the way she looked, Savannah had done a lot more than dabble. “I just can't believe that she's fallen off like that.”

“Do you know Savannah?” Dexter anxiously asked as he ran his hands through his head full of bright red hair, something he did whenever he was excited. “I mean, personally? I figured you did since you know everybody.”

Dexter was right about that. Before I was on-air—first as one of the five members of the
Miami Divas
reality show, then as the host of my own show—I was already at the top of the food chain as the leader of Miami's “It Clique,” as one magazine had put it. In fact, that was why I'd been approached to do the reality show in the first place.
Miami Divas
hadn't done as well as they'd wanted, so they'd canceled it, fired the other four Divas, and given me my own show. That had been the smartest thing since the invention of the Internet, because in no time, I became the go-to chick for all the latest celebrity gossip, dirt, and entertainment news.
Rumor Central
had exceeded everyone's expectations and had even been picked up by networks in several other cities.

My BFF, Sheridan, had been one of the original
Miami Divas
who was fired, and that had led to a whole lotta drama, but we'd squashed that and were back to kickin' it. I couldn't say the same about the other busters from
Miami Divas.
Shay, Bali, and Evian still had stank attitudes about the way everything had gone down. (They claimed we'd had a pact to stick together and I sold them out by taking my own show. As if any of them would've turned it down if the shoe was on the other foot. Whatever.) Bali didn't even live in Miami anymore, and he still let me know he was mad with messy text messages, all of which I just ignored.

“So, do you know her or not?” Dexter asked again, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I knew he wasn't asking out of concern. He was probably trying to see if I could get some kind of inside scoop.

“Yeah, I know her. Or, at least I
used to
know her,” I replied. “The Savannah I knew would never allow herself to look like that.” I pointed at the screen.

“The research department is trying to see if we can find any other celeb arrests behind this drug,” Dexter said.

I didn't get it because drugs were whack. Anything that took me off my A-game, I didn't need to be doing. And as fabulous as I was, I didn't need anything messing up my flawless bronze skin, long, all-natural, soft brown hair, and perfect Pilates-toned body. I was a quarter-piece (because a dime just didn't do me justice). So, no way would I ever let some kind of drug—be it weed, X, coke, or anything else—take that away from me.

Savannah used to be the same way. Was K2 powerful enough to make her change her mind? I glanced at the picture again. Obviously, it was, because Savannah had basically thrown her life away for it.

And that, I would never understand.