Reality Check (12 page)

Lola rolled her eyes and reluctantly shook her head. She stopped walking. “I'm going to take Marlow and go find Sully, to give you and Mason the time alone that you need,” she said to Charly's back. “But let me say this before I go: If you don't listen to me, Charly, make sure you listen to yourself. Your instinct will tell you what your mind is blocking. That girl can't be trusted.” With that, Lola walked away.

The bench was set in an alcove of tall bushes, as if someone had purposely planted the greenery to surround it. The lake was off to one side of it, and a pool was directly behind it. Charly adjusted her bottom, crossed her legs, then straightened herself. She looked at the house in the distance as she settled on the bench, and thought that Mason couldn't have picked a more romantic and private place to sit—and then she changed her mind. Her eyes turned into saucers as she accidentally eavesdropped on a conversation taking place behind her, on the other side of the high bushes.

“Oh. My. Serious, Lizzy?!?” a voice asked. A voice Charly was sure could only belong to Annison. “But you're
Disney's
Lizzy. The network won't like that. So you are seeing him?”

Lizzy, one of the hugest sitcom stars on television, answered, “I am. I've been secretly dating him for months, but no one knows. We've created a pretend girlfriend for him, and you know the world thinks I'm too innocent and young to have a boyfriend. If it got out, that could cancel my contract and career.” The actress exhaled. “No, it would, not could. My contract states no boyfriends until I'm seventeen—at least to the public's knowledge.”

“They can do that?” Annison asked.

“Yes. Especially when you start working with them at thirteen, but they market you as a ten-year-old for the fans and merchandising. It's a kids' network. What do you expect from a network that got famous from a mouse? Everyone thinks I'm fourteen, not seventeen. He's over eighteen. So, you see how sick it could look? Promise me you won't tell a soul, Annison?” the girl whispered from the other side of the bushes. “If anyone finds this out . . .”

“You won't be able to get your own reality series. I get it. I won't tell. Promise,” Annison assured her.

S
omeone was knocking on her eardrums, Charly thought, holding her head. A loud pounding echoed in the air, slicing through the quiet in the room and interrupting her rest. She grabbed the sides of her pillow and tried to fold them over her head. The banging persisted.

“What?” she yelled out.

“Yes, what!” Lola's voice cried out from the other double bed.

The banging continued. Charly's lids shot open, and her eyes found the clock. It was barely six in the morning. Her heart pounded and her adrenaline raced. She jumped off the bed, took the couple of steps to Lola's, then pulled on the sheet covering her best friend. “Get up, Lola. It must be an emergency.”

Lola moaned. “If it's a fire, make sure they cremate me and finish the job.”

“What?” Charly asked incredulously. “What are you talking about, Lola?”

Lola opened one eye, managing to stretch it until it was twice its normal size. “I'm not moving. I don't even care if there's an emergency because an emergency can't be as urgent as my sleep. Do you know how long I was on the phone with Sully last night?”

Charly picked up one of her pillows and tossed it at Lola's head. The banging continued. Someone was knocking on the door as if Charly's and Lola's lives depended on their answering. “Okay, okay,” she said, making it to the door. “Who is it?” she asked. She may've been tired, but she was no fool. She wasn't just going to open the door without knowing who stood on the other side.

“Me, who else?” Annison's voice sang from the other side.

Charly rolled her eyes. She was sure her ears were deceiving her. “Annison?”

The door handle jiggled. “Yes. I said, let me in. It's getting late.”

Charly reared back her head until it hung so far back she was sure it'd fall. Her eyes rolled and she exhaled, then grimaced. She could smell her own morning breath. “Late for what?” she asked, unlocking and opening the door.

Annison walked in all sunny and bubbly, handing her a black piece of rolled-up rubber. “Yoga. Here's your mat. I thought you said you were coming. You are joining my crew, right? I mean, you have to—you're like going to be my bestie,” she said, walking to the bathroom mirror and fixing her already perfect face. “I mean, who else is confident enough and has their own career and is honest—or as Mason says, keeps it one-hundred—besides you? You're the only one I know who's like me.”

Charly stretched. This was way too heavy for six in the morning. “Mm-hmm,” she answered, then bumped Annison out of her way. She needed to brush fast. Overnight breath just didn't work for her.

“I'll grab you something to wear. Is your stuff still in suitcases, or did you unpack?” she asked, making her way to the sleeping area, while in the bathroom Charly tried to yell with a mouthful of toothpaste not to disturb Lola.

 

Chicago was beautiful in the summertime, especially by the lake, which resembled an ocean instead of an enclosed body of water. Charly looked out at the waves that seemed to go on and on. Despite being tired under an hour ago, she could appreciate the beauty and also the fresh air that blew in off the water. Marlow sat for a second, then scratched her ear.

“Where's Doll?” Charly asked Annison, who was at first reluctant about her bringing Marlow. But Marlow had to walk, and there was no way Charly was going to neglect her.

Annison's shoulders began to hunch, then she said, “She should be here. I sent one of my assistants to get her for me while I came to get you.” She shook a container in her hand filled with ice and some other yucky-looking stuff, then popped it open and downed it. “Want some? Me and the rest of the crew drink this every morning before yoga, so there's more in the cooler. I can send someone to get you one.”

Charly tried to keep her expression from showing her feelings, but wasn't so successful.

“It's not that bad. You act like I offered you waste!” Annison laughed. “It's just a protein shake with egg whites added.”

“Raw egg whites?” Charly had to ask.

Annison nodded. “Of course.”

“No, thank you. That has salmonella written all over it. But if it works for you and the rest of the crew, have at it.” Charly smiled, holding the yoga mat under her arm. It was black and heavy and smelled a little like rubber and medicine. She looked down at her clothes and felt two seconds from naked. She wore stretch pants, a fitted tank top that didn't cover anything, and flip-flops. The tights and tank were also courtesy of Annison because Charly didn't have the appropriate gear.

“It's about time! There she is, and there they are,” Annison said, pointing toward a girl who was walking Doll. “You're late! And I don't do late,” she yelled at the girl, then pointed to the group of yogis who were waiting on them. “Like I said at the hotel, she's going to walk Marlow too, then they can play while we do yoga. It's going to be refreshing to have class outside. I only get to do that in Cali. We always have class on the beach there.”

Charly nodded, handing off Marlow to the dog walker, then rushed to catch up to Annison, who was waiting while someone unrolled her mat and adjusted it on the ground. She was in the first row, of course.

“Surya Namaskara A, then Surya Namaskara B, then fundamental Asanas. Samastitihi,” the yoga instructor was saying when Charly made her way over next to Annison, rolled out her mat, and stepped out of her flip-flops.

“Huh?” she said.

Annison shook her head. “Just follow.”

“Samastitihi,” the instructor repeated, now walking toward Charly. “It's your starting position, Charly. Feet together, hands at your sides. Back tall. Activate your bandhas.”

“She doesn't know her bandhas,” Annison said.

The instructor tsked Annison. “I'll show you later, Charly,” she said.

Charly frowned. “How does she know my name?” she whispered to Annison.

Annison held a finger to her lips. “Duh. You're with me, so it's her job to know. They have to know my every move. And save your breath for Vinyasa. You're going to need it. I told her you were coming. She's substituting for my private instructor who travels with me. The private instructor will have to meet you before you're allowed to come again.” She shrugged. “She takes this thing too seriously, if you ask me. Get ready for Vinyasa.”

Vinyasa?

“Today you'll just do the Surya Namaskaras A and B,” the instructor said, passing by Charly while she went to adjust Annison's pose. “In English we call it the sun salute,” she whispered. “Now exhale and fold forward, head to the knees and hands flat on the ground. Hold it. Inhale, and head up, fingertips to the ground.”

Charly knew that before the morning was over, she was going to die from stretching and breathing. She wished like crazy that she could trade places with Marlow. Running next to the water seemed so refreshing.

Someone cleared their throat next to her, grabbing her attention. Charly looked to her right and didn't know whether to pass out or smile. Mason was next to her, unrolling a mat like hers. She scrunched her brows together, questioning him.

“She invited us last night, remember? Thought it would be good to watch you sweat before you leave me again. I'm missing you already.” He winked.

 

Charly was warm, and a film of dried sweat was on her skin, but she felt good after yoga was over. Equally important, she looked good too, she noticed as she walked past a window and saw her reflection. Mason walked beside her, holding their mats and grinning. He'd had the hardest time with yoga, but he didn't give up. The instructor had told him his muscles were tight, and Charly could tell by the look on his face that the instructor's comment had been taken as a compliment, and his ego had been boosted.

“I'm glad you came out,” Charly said, still a little surprised.

Mason laughed, shaking his head. “Me, miss you in that outfit? You crazy? You look good! Besides, my girl's leaving me.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I couldn't just let you leave without giving you something to remember.”

“Hey, you two,” Annison greeted them as soon as they entered the hotel. “So . . . wasn't it fabulous?”

Charly nodded. “It wasn't easy, but I have to admit, it was cool.”

Mason just nodded.

“Cool enough to do it again?” Annison asked, more excited than Charly would've imagined possible after the intense workout that Annison seemed to breeze through.

Charly nodded again. “Definitely. It was hard, but my body feels good. And for some reason, I feel lighter.”

Annison smiled an I-told-you-I'm-always-right smile. “Yay!” She danced in place. “Good, because that mat you have is a gift from me to you. It's a Manduka, and it will last a lifetime. I had them treat it with tea tree oil to get rid of some of the slickness; that's why it smells like that. Oh, and here,” she said, handing Charly an oversized gift bag. “Just some other essentials, like your no-skid yoga mat cover, two carriers, towels. You get it. And Mason, you can have your mat too.”

Charly smiled. Annison was sweeter than she thought. “Much appreciation, Annison. Thank you so much.”

“Thanks,” Mason said.

“Cool. I'll see you later. I know you have to say good-bye to Mason and your other friend, wherever she is.” Annison waved, then disappeared into her awaiting group of butt kissers, as Mason had called them.

Charly looked at Mason and a lump grew in her throat. Her chest rose and fell with breath warmer than usual, and she blinked slowly. “I hate good-byes,” she said, feeling herself tear up. “And I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm going to miss Illinois. You're here, and I need to check on Stormy.”

“So don't say good-bye, then. You guys don't do another show for months, and Stormy is fine. You know how much of a nerd she is. Let her have her science fairs.” Lola's voice came from behind. Her smile was wide, and so was Sully's, who was on her heels closer than her shadow.

“You're right. And we shoot again in weeks, barely two. Not months,” Charly corrected.

Mason leaned forward, whispering in her ear. “So say you'll see us later.”

THE EXTREME DREAM TEAM
Show 2 itinerary

 

Recipient information:

 

Deceased father victims
PLUMES, KATY & SCOTTY
Seventeen-year-old twins (female and male)
Music producers and singer/songwriters

Perform for children in hospitals and send free music to the troops.

EXTREME DREAM TEAM Mission: Design and build Katy and Scotty a music studio in their new, smaller home. They lost the other due to having to move after their father's death.

Locale: ATLANTA, GEORGIA

Where were the peaches? Charly thought, looking out of the window. She'd been looking forward to seeing fruit dangling off trees since the last show. They'd gotten a break, at least that had been the studio's plan, to give the cast some down time between shows, but anything to do with relaxing was a foreign concept to her dad. Because of him, she's sat holed up in her room, taking an online Language Arts supplementary course for a week straight, then he'd insisted she learn things she wouldn't be taught in school, namely the difference between the constitutions—plural, and she'd only been taught there was one. Though she'd been unpleased to have to study during her break, she was happy to learn something many didn't seem to know; there were actually two: The Constitution for the united states of America and THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. The first was the original, the other had been adopted in 1871 and spelled in all caps, and there were clearly other differences. But she didn't want to think about government or school or anything that had to do with books now. She was free from her forced studies and was looking for fruit, the thing her mind had drifted to when she'd thought about the Peach State and how great it would be compared to studying. Charly wasn't pleased with herself, not at all. Here she was in the ATL, known as one of the hottest cities in America because of the partying, historically black colleges and universities, and multiple other reasons, she was sure, and she was still looking forward to peaches. Really? She shook her head, hoping she wasn't losing her pizzazz. Back in the day—i.e., last year—she'd have been out and about, trying to find something to do. She'd researched the city a couple of weeks ago, as soon as she'd learned they were coming. And Lola had texted her and told her to check out Lennox Square Mall, where supposedly all the rappers and singers went; Piedmont Park; and the Martin Luther King Jr. National Historic Site. She even reminded Charly of the skating rink where the movie
ATL
was filmed. Charly had promised herself that she'd have to visit at least three out of the four before she left. She couldn't be in Atlanta and leave with only fruit. That'd be lame, which she wasn't. And she definitely didn't want to do just the tourist thing either.

“We're almost there, miss,” the chauffeur said, making a sharp turn on a street with the word
peach
in it, of which, Charly noticed, there were many in Atlanta.

Charly ran her hand over Marlow's tiny head, then lifted her so she could see out the window. Her tail was wagging in excitement, and Charly wished that Marlow could join her on the set. She hated to see the dogs restricted to a puppy playpen or a playroom, or worse yet, go on a walk with some unknown dog walker, who would change from location to location because the budget didn't allow for a full-time dog sitter. “Where are we?” she asked the chauffeur, who was passing a nationally known twenty-four-hour pancake house.

“We're on Peachtree. In Buckhead, miss.”

Charly scrunched her nose. “Weren't we just in Atlanta? I thought we were supposed to be in Atlanta? Where did we cross the city line?” The barrage of questions flew from her mouth. She'd just been picked up from the Inter Continental, which was in a ritzy section that she assumed to be downtown. They'd only driven a few blocks from the hotel, and she hadn't seen any signs indicating they were in another city.

The chauffeur laughed. “We were. We are. And we didn't, miss.” He smiled, then shook his head knowingly. “You're from . . . ?” he questioned.

“I live in New York,” Charly said.

He nodded. “Okay, but you don't have a New York accent,” he said, shrugging. “All right, think of Manhattan. You've got Greenwich, SoHo, etcetera, but, you know, you're still in Manhattan. Same thing with Brooklyn. There's Canarsie, Bedford-Stuyvesant, Park Slope, Clinton Hill, and Fort Greene, where I'm from—”

“But it's still Brooklyn. I get it,” Charly said, holding Marlow while the car pulled into a parking lot, passed a North Face store, then headed toward a Whole Foods Market that was set in the back of the lot. “I see him. He's over there,” she said. “Where is everyone else?” she asked herself. Her phone vibrated in her hand. Stormy's name scrolled across the screen. “Hey! How was the science school thingy that Lola told me about. I missed you in Chicago.”

“Charly, I need you to come get me. Brigette's—”

“One second, Stormy. Driver, can you stop the car for a second. I need to take this call before we pick up Liam,” she said, looking at Liam in the distance. The car stopped. “Okay, Stormy. What happened?” she adjusted her wireless earpiece.

“Brigette left yesterday and there's no food here. The electric company just shut off the power, and she's not answering her phone.”

Charly choked. Her mother was the worst, and Charly was too far away. “Did you call Lola?” she asked, switching phone screens. She opened her text feature and began texting Lola before Stormy could answer.

Stormy exhaled hard. “I walked over there, but no one was home. I didn't want to call and seem like I was bothering her,” she said, sounding sad.

“Get your stuff ready, Stormy. Lola's on the way,” Charly said, glad that she could assist from a distance. She'd do more later, she promised herself. “She's at Smax's now, and she's bringing you some food. Text me as soon as she gets there to let me know you're all right. Okay?”

“Okay,” Stormy said. Her voice was low, but lighter.

“I'll call you as soon as I'm finished taping. We're on our way to the set now, so I'm going to hang up. I don't want my costars in my business,” Charly said, waving to the chauffeur that it was okay to pick up Liam now. She told Stormy she loved her, then hung up.

Liam waved with one hand and held up two brown paper shopping bags with the other in a look-what-I-have fashion. “I wasn't sure that was you because the car stopped. Seconds ago, I thought I missed you, I was in there so long,” he said, opening the door before the car came to a complete stop. “This place is great! Did you know they have vegan biscuits? How do people make biscuits without eggs?” he asked, settling into the car, then bending over to give her a kiss on the cheek. The car pulled off before he sat, accidentally moving him. His lips brushed hers instead. “Sorry, love. You know that wasn't my fault, right?”

Charly smiled, brushing off the accidental kiss. She knew he didn't mean it, but the biscuit thing gave her pause for a moment. This was Liam she was talking to, and she remembered seeing on the BBC that what the British called biscuits weren't actually the same thing Americans called biscuits. It was like football and soccer. In the States football meant tackling and touchdowns, and in some places abroad, it was another word for soccer. “Biscuits?” she questioned, to be sure, then relaxed a little. Lola texted she was on her way to get Stormy.

Liam elbowed her. “Cookies. Same thing, love.” He opened one of the bags and pulled out a smaller clear bag filled with a stack of cookies. “It's a six-pack of cookies. Have some? They're great, and don't worry, I got the ones made with eggs. Eggless biscuits are like flourless cakes—they both sound a little suspicious to me.” He shook his head. “Weird, wouldn't you say?”

Charly laughed. Liam seemed to communicate in questions, not statements. “No, thank you. Where's Annison and Sully? I thought all of you were together. That's the message Annison left last night. She said you guys were going to the store after the yoga session and before the taping this morning.” She stretched, yawning. “I just couldn't do it. I was too tired, and still am,” she admitted. They'd flown in the afternoon before, gone to dinner, and Charly had been on the phone all night with Mason while the others hit the town. That was her's and Mason's usual talking schedule since they'd met up in Chicago forever ago. That's what time felt like now that they were back to being close—forever. She shook her head. She'd gone from missing him to literally counting the days they'd been apart and the days she'd have to wait to see him again.

Liam took a bite of his cookie, then closed his eyes. “Heavenly,” he said, then broke off a small piece. “Taste this. You must,” he demanded, pushing the cookie against Charly's lips until she opened her mouth. “Ahh, that message had to have been from last night, love. I'm assuming you didn't hear? There was no yoga this morning for Annison—and yoga is girls only.”

“Who says yoga is for girls?” Charly questioned. “Men do it all the time.”

Liam shook his head. “If you say so. Yoga is for girls. Anyway, love, as I was saying, so there was no gym for Sully either. Seems they've both taken ill. Mr. Day said something about raw egg whites and protein and yoga.” He shrugged. “Another suspicious combo if you ask me. Don't you agree?”

Charly almost swooned because his accent made it all sound sexy, then her voice caught in her throat for a second. “Wait a minute. Does that mean we're not taping?”

Liam laughed. “No, love, never that. The show must go on. Always. The network doesn't care if Annison and Sully are sick; they've already put money and time into the taping. Here,” he said, then scooted to the edge of the seat and reached into his back pocket. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to Charly. “Look at that. I ran into one of the production assistants before I left the hotel. The producer or whoever will give you the updated one when we get to the set, but I thought you'd like to have a heads-up, love.”

Charly unfolded the paper and saw her name typed out in bold.

 

 

THE EXTREME DREAM TEAM
Show 2 itinerary

 

Recipient information:

 

Deceased father victims
PLUMES, KATY & SCOTTY
Seventeen-year-old twins, female and male
Music producers and singer/songwriters

Perform for children in hospitals and send free music to the troops.

EXTREME DREAM TEAM Mission: Design and build Katy and Scotty a music studio in their new, smaller home. They lost the other due to having to move after their father's death.

Locale: ATLANTA, GEORGIA

 

“See, nothing changes. They've still got us.”

“Do you think I can pull it off? I've never done Annison's role.”

Liam shook his head. “Charly, please. You shined on the first show. Were even brighter for the cameras and interviews at the press junket, then the shows in Missouri. Did you forget about those? Us showing up to do a “pop in” at the state college was a tremendous show. Of course, you're ready.”

Charly nodded, then adjusted the mic the camera crew had attached to her shirt as soon as she'd arrived on set. She wasn't giving herself enough credit. “And they keep airing commercials and clips.” She smiled, giving her phone one last glance before she stepped on the set. Stormy had texted that she was with Lola, and Lola had made arrangements with her mother for Stormy to stay for awhile.

“Yes, so as I was saying,” Liam said, smiling, “we're the stars today—and tonight. I hope you're ready to shine for both occasions: the reality show, and afterward the award show tonight, where we'll be making guest host appearances!”