“Hey.” I smile. “How are you?”
“Good,” she says and pushes a lost strand of her short blonde hair out of her eyes. “I'm with Gwen. She went inside to get seats.”
“Why didn't I think of that?” I ask.
Bridget is staring at me. “Cute shirt,” she says. “Is it new?”
“I've had for a while,” I say awkwardly, aware Zac can hear our conversation. I wouldn't dare say it's Brooke's. Lately, people I barely talk to have been stopping me to say hi. Maybe just a few days of taping have made me ooze more confidence already. That's what Mom thinks. She says I have a whole new positive outlook about me. “You know Zac, right?”
“Hey,” Bridget says absentmindedly and continues to look at me. The popcorn guy clears his throat. Bridget is next. “I should order,” she says sheepishly. “See you at school.”
“See you at school,” I say. I turn around and smile at Zac. “I'll get the snacks.” He bought the tickets.
Zac slides me out of the way. “I'll get them. I asked you, remember?”
“But—” I start to protest.
Zac motions for me to shush. “Don't fight me, Charlie. You know I'll win.” He winks and I practically melt into the floor. “If we get something to eat after, I'll let you buy me a soda.”
“Okay,” I say, “but it better be a large one.” The two of us grin at each other and I suddenly wish we were anywhere but in this long line. If we were alone outside maybe he'd kiss me right now. I've been moisturizing my lips all week, just in case. (They don't get much use in that department.) Zac finishes paying and we head inside. The theater is crowded, but we manage to get seats in the middle. We've got separate sodas, but we're sharing popcorn, and I feel a shock every time our hands reach in at the same time.
“So how is your career as Hannah Montana going?” Zac asks and takes a handful of popcorn.
“I like it,” I admit. “Every time we tape, I get a little more comfortable. Even when we're not rolling, I like what we're doing. I got interviewed by Us Weekly this week, and had media training, and got to pick out some clothes for a photo shoot we need to do. Hallie, Brooke, Keiran, and I have a lot more to talk about than I realized, and so far I think we sound pretty good on camera. Much cooler than I imagined,” I quip. I grab a few kernels of popcorn, being careful not to dribble the butter all over my jeans.
“Is that really reality then if you come across that cool?” Zac teases. “Because I know you and cool seems to be stretching it a bit.”
I throw a handful of popcorn at him and he laughs. “Didn't I tell you? Our show is ‘scripted’ reality.” It's a term Addison pounds in our heads whenever I question something we're doing. “Since we don't shoot every day sometimes we have to recap things for the camera or shoot them over again so that there aren't any holes in our story line.”
“So does that mean tonight's date is going to be recapped during your next taping?” Zac wants to know. His grin is mischievous so I know he's still teasing me.
“We're being taped right now actually,” I tease right back. I point to the button on the sleeve of my shirt. “Hidden mic.” Then I point to my necklace. “Covert camera.”
Zac laughs. It's loud and deep and infectious. I find myself giggling too.
“I give you credit,” Zac says. “I can't talk on camera. Ms. Harmon cast me as a shepherd in the Sunday School play in second grade and I had one line. I choked.”
“I'm sure you'd be fine now,” I say.
He shakes his head. “I don't think so. I'll tell you a deep, dark secret: I throw up before every oral presentation I have to make in class.”
My eyes widen. “Really?”
“Really. But if you tell anyone that, I'll have to deny it.” He tosses some popcorn my way this time. “I guess we all have our own demons.”
Zac stares at the screen. They're still showing the previews, which are usually a lame reel of movie trivia that loops over
and over.
“Absolutely,” I tell him. I think it's cute he can't do public speaking. I'm about to tell him just that when I feel a vibration in my Coach wristlet. I pull out my phone. Addison. “I have to take this,” I apologize. “I'll be right back. The reception is so horrible in here.” I pick up. “Hold on.” I step over a few people who have entered our row and duck out into the still-crowded hallway. Two other movies are starting at the same time. “Addison?”
“Hi Charlie.” Her cheerful voice is instantly recognizable. “Sorry to bother you on a Friday night when you're off. Your mom says you're on a date.”
I blush for two reasons: one, Mom is telling people about my date. And two, she's telling my boss, who didn't know about it. Great. “Um, yeah.”
“Is this the guy from the other day?” Addison asks. “He's so cute. I think Susan would love him, Charlie. She loves the idea of you having a boyfriend.” Susan knows about Zac? I tried calling her once last week, like she said I should, but she never returned my call.
“It is him,” I explain awkwardly. “And actually, we were just talking about the show, but I don't think he's into the whole TV thing.” A few people stare at me as they walk by to their theaters, but I just smile.
“That's too bad,” Addison says, sounding really disappointed.
The way she says it, I find myself getting nervous. “Do you think that will be a problem?”
“I don't think so,” Addison says, sounding unsure herself. “Don't worry about it tonight. We'll talk more when I see you on Sunday, okay?”
“Thanks,” I say, and I glance at my watch. The movie will be starting any minute. “Was there something else you needed?”
“Yes, I left messages for each of the girls about Sunday. I hear there is a spring street fair in town and we thought it would be a lot of fun to tape the four of you there. Very colorful. Do you usually go to it?”
“I do,” I say. We didn't have plans to go yet, but it's not like we wouldn't go.
“Keiran has to babysit, but I told her she could bring her siblings,” Addison says. “We thought it would be a hoot to watch all of you babysitting. Should we say ten AM? I'll pick you guys up while the team scouts out the spring festival. I have to call in to get permission to shoot there, but I don't think it will be a problem. Your mayor is pretty accommodating.”
“Great,” I tell her.
“See you Sunday!” Addison says.
I hang up and change my phone setting to silent. Then I run back to the theater. The room is already dark because the movie previews are playing, and I can barely see where I'm going. Or where I'm sitting.
“Charlie!” I hear Zac whisper and I move toward our row.
“Sorry about that,” I tell him when I finally make it back to my seat. “It was the show. They want to shoot at the spring festival.”
“If you thought you were getting attention before, just wait till you're taping in front of the whole town,” Zac says as he passes me the popcorn.
I didn't think about that. Now everyone will know about the show. Kind of exhilarating, kind of nerve-racking at the same time. “Yeah.”
The movie is starting and Zac places the popcorn on his lap. With his free hand, I feel him reach over and grab mine. It's warm and slightly sticky from the butter. “I'm sure it will go great,” he whispers.
Zac is holding my hand. Zac is holding my hand and he's not letting go. That's all I can think about. “Sure,” I manage, but I'm not sure what I'm saying “sure” to.
“I wanted to ask you something,” he whispers. “Do you have a date yet for the spring dance?”
He's asking me to the dance! He's asking me to the dance! Could this night get any better? “No,” I whisper back, afraid to even breathe.
“Do you want to go with me?” he asks.
I feel like I'm going to slide right off my chair. I'm not sure I even have it in me to speak. “Yes,” I manage. “That would be fun.”
“Great,” he says and then he leans back in his seat, his hand still ho
lding mine.
I have an overwhelming desire to text Keiran and the girls, but my one hand is occupied and besides, I'm not sure how I could pull it off without Zac noticing. I want to tell the whole theater. Zac is holding my hand and he asked me to the dance! But I calm myself down and sit perfectly still, praying my hand isn't too sweaty. I think about the Zac moment over and over again in my head. My hand feels sweaty, but I don't move. All I do is sit and pray this is a three-hour movie so that I can stay like this for as long as possible.
seven
Spring Fever
The street fair is crowded and Brooke, Hallie, and I link arms so that we don't get separated. Keiran is two steps behind us, pulling her sister and two whiny brothers in their Radio Flyer wagon. Normally our appearance wouldn't cause people to turn their heads, but today we've got a camera crew in tow. There are two cameras in front of us, walking backward, and one behind us, plus Addison and a lighting guy. I'm a little distracted so I can only imagine how everyone else in town feels as they see us walk by.
“Ooh, fudge!” Hallie exclaims and pulls us over to the booth for a free sample. Our lighting girl, Kayla, hurries to get a clear shot, as does Phil, camera guy number one. Addison explained earlier that if we have to separate for any reason, we might have to delay filming to get an additional crew on hand (three people) to follow each of our stories. So far we haven't left each other's sides.
It's the Cliffside Spring Fever Festival and our usually desolate Main Street is hopping with street vendors, food, a kiddie carnival, pony rides, and a bouncy house. Hallie's parents are here with food from the Crab Shack, and we're supposed to stop by their booth. For now, we were told to do what we'd normally do at a festival: People watch and shop.
Hallie grabs a huge chunk of vanilla fudge and then spears another with a toothpick and plops it in my mouth before I can protest. “Wow, that's good,” I admit. I spear one for Brooke, but she shakes her head.
“I just had popcorn,” she groans. “Give it to Kiki and the kids.”
Keiran's not in as great of a mood as the rest of us. It's hard to have a good time browsing craft stands when you have three bored, hungry, and tired little kids in tow.
“Keiran, Joseph is putting his foot on my side of the wagon again,” her four-year-old sister, Hannah, whines.
“AM NOT!” Her twin, Joseph, shouts at her.
“Are too!” she says and folds her arms angrily.
“Hungry, Kiki,” her two-year-old brother, Steven, complains and pulls on her pants.
“How about some fudge?” Keiran suggests.
“How about a muzzle?” Brooke says under her breath and Keiran hits her. “What? He needs one. He's so loud.”
“I know,” Keiran says wearily. “He doesn't stop talking or whining from the minute he opens his eyes in the morning.”
“You need a break,” Hallie tells her for the umpteenth time. “Tell your mom she has to find someone else to babysit. They're wearing you out. You don't even match today.”
Keiran looks down at her outfit. She's wearing a navy blue shirt and dark teal khakis. She groans. “I thought this shirt was black.” She rests her head on my shoulder. “I've been watching these three since my mom got up at five to do the dairy rounds.” Her head suddenly snaps up. “Not that I mind, of course. My mom pays me to help her and—”
It's as if Keiran has suddenly remembered the camera is watching our every move and bashing her mom on television is a bad idea. I squirm uncomfortably. I've noticed this trend happening a lot in the past few days. When we hit an uncomfortable moment in conversation, everyone's answer is to say something fake instead. Normally we'd never do that.
“That doesn't mean you're not allowed to ask for a day off,” I remind Keiran, hoping to calm her down. “We all help out at home, but there's a difference between pitching in and being a full-time employee.”
“Are you saying my mom treats me like hired help?” Keiran snaps as Stevie begins to tug on the back of her shirt.
Uh-oh. I blush.
“HUNGRY! HUNGRY!” Stevie rages. Hannah and Joseph join in the chant. “KIKI, HUNGRY!” Keiran ignores them and stares at me angrily.
“I just mean you help out an awful lot,” I try tactfully.
“My parents need my help, Charlie, you know that,” Keiran huffs. “Their jobs are demanding and if I don't do it, who will?”
“Daycare?” Brooke suggests with a small smile. Hallie tries not to laugh.
“Nice,” Keiran says sarcastically. “Way to be supportive.”
“Kiki, we are supportive,” Hallie tries, “but we feel for you. You're like a full-time nanny, and sometimes,” she hesitates, but then keeps going, “it's really hard coming up with stuff to do when you have to bring them with you.”
I hear a crash and see Joseph, Hannah, and Stevie pulling on each other's macaroni necklaces. They've knocked a glass jar of pickles we just bought out of their cart and the juice oozes down the side of the wagon. Then the first of the macaroni necklaces bursts open and pasta flies in ten different directions. We just helped the kids make the necklaces at the Cliffside High free kids’ stand. They also got temporary tattoos even though Hannah cried when they wet her arm to put a Cinderella one on her.
“Enough.” Keiran holds up her hands in protest. “I have to feed them. I'll be by the food stands. You can join me when you guys have stopped bashing my family.”
“I didn't mean it like that,” I try to explain, but Keiran begins tugging the wagon through the crowd as Stevie continues to wail. Addison motions for one of the cameramen to follow her and he quickly heads off in pursuit. I see her radio a second crew to come in and help out.
“More fudge?” Hallie offers me.
I shake my head. “Now she's mad at me.”
“She's only mad because you embarrassed her,” Brooke points out.
“How did I embarrass her? It's just us,” I say and stop talking. Oh. It's not just us and apparently being as real as we normally are is kind of weird when a camera is watching.
“Cut,” Addison yells and the fudge folks jump. “That was great, guys. Let's take a five-minute break.” Addison puts a hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
I nod. “I feel bad that I made her feel uncomfortable on camera.”
“You were just being honest.” Addison is frank. “That's what we want you to do. Sometimes the truth stings. She'll get over it. I thought you sounded really strong. It was a good scene.”
But it wasn't a scene, was it? It's my life, and in the real world, I hate fighting with my friends.
“Are you okay to finish up the conversation with Brooke?” Addison asks me as she consults her clipboard. “We should wrap this up before moving to the next location. It's getting kind of crowded over here.” I look up and realize she's right. There is a sea of people hanging around, watching us. The festival security is trying to usher them away (apparently the mayor agreed to give us extra security for the day in exchange for all the free town publicity), but it isn't working so well. “Tell Brooke and Hallie what you're upset about and that should do it.” I nod. Addison alerts the remaining camera guys—crew two isn't here yet—and then gives me the cue to start filming again.
“I feel bad for her.” The words tumble out, but they're the truth. “She misses out on so much because she's always watching the kids. I know she doesn't mind, but it's got to be hard having to clear your schedule with your parents before you make plans with your friends on a Friday night.”
Brooke nods. “She's just mad because you're right. We all agree with you, by the way, and I'm happy to tell her that. I want to hang out with Kiki, not her rugrats.”
“She'll calm down,” Hallie consoles me. “We'll catch up with her after lunch. She needs some space.”
“Excellent!” Addison breaks in. “Let's hold here,” she tells Hank and Phil. “Girls, do you want to meet across the street while we set up the next shot and wait for the additional crew?”
We make
our way through the crowd to the other side of the street and head down a side alley that is pretty quiet. There's a view of the water on the other side, and I see a sailboat float by.
“While we set up the next shot, which I think will be you guys at Hallie's parents’ stand, I wanted to hand out this week's schedule,” Addison tells us as she distributes the papers. “Remember, this could change, but it is pretty solid.”
She hands us a typed memo. It has our days and calltimes on it. Today, we're together. On Tuesday, we're split up doing different things. Brooke has a date that they're taping. Hallie has play practice at her friend's house. Keiran is babysitting again, and they chose to follow me around Milk and Sugar. It's funny, but now that we're doing the show, I feel like the four of us spend more time apart than together. While we'd usually meet at Milk and Sugar almost every day after school, now we're split up to tape our own segments and only tape group ones once or twice a week. I scan the page for my name and am momentarily confused. Underneath my name, it says “date” with a question mark. Date? What date?
“Addison? What's this?” I point to the date section.
Addison takes a swig of her Gatorade. “I wanted to talk to you about that. Do you have a second?” She walks a little ways down the alley and I'm aware everyone is watching us. I nervously look back at Hallie, but then I look at Addison's face. She looks odd too. “I know I told you on Friday night that it was okay if Zac didn't want to appear on camera, but I was wrong.”
Wait. “Wrong?” I ask, trying to understand.
Addison fidgets slightly. “I should have explained things better when we spoke. If you and Zac aren't hanging out again, it's fine, but if you're going to be dating Zac, we need to see him. You'll obviously be talking about him on camera and viewers will want to know who he is, why you like him, where you two go…”
My head is spinning. I have to convince Zac to be on the show? He'll never do it. I know it.
“. . . You're our star. The other girls are all dating on camera and it looks strange not to see you doing that.” Addison looks at me nervously. “What do you think?”