Reality Check (2 page)

“I'd like to see Charlie sing, dance, and waitress at the same time,” Keiran comments.

“I think Charlie needs to do a cafeteria exposé,” Brooke says as I slowly put the tray down on the coffee table. The girls grab their cups and Brooke looks at me. “Are you out of bagels?”

I should have known Brooke was being serious. I hurry back around the counter and grab four bagels and bring them over to the couch. “Thank you,” she says gratefully. “Do you have cream cheese?” I roll my eyes at her and run over to the fridge.

“Brooke's totally right, Charlie. You should do an article on bad cafeteria food,” Hallie says. “It's an epidemic. Remember last week's
green
chocolate cake?”

“Or last month's pink chicken scare?” Keiran reminds us.

“Something like this could finally give you the front-page story you so deserve,” Brooke insists. “I can see it now—
Cafeteria Killers
by Charlotte ‘Charlie’ Reed. ‘How your life is threatened by your Caesar salad.’” Hallie giggles.

“I've got a better idea,” Keiran suggests. “Forget food and do an editorial on the rich, private school kids who live in Cliffside and act as if the rest of us townies don't exist. I saw Marleyna Garrison the other day at the Associated and she pretended to be so into picking out grapes she couldn't look at me. And this is a girl who was my best friend in preschool.”

Brooke shrugs. “Maybe she didn't see you.”

Keiran gives her a look. “She
saw
me. I'm sure of it.”

“She said hi to me a few weeks ago,” Brooke says casually, not looking up from her mug. “I said hi first, but still.”

Hallie groans. “Brooke! You need to quit sucking up to those people.”

Brooke feigns innocence. We all know she's obsessed with Marleyna Garrison and the lives of the rich and fabulous in our neighborhood, but she won't admit it. “I'm not!” she insists.

“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 are 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?”