Reality Check by Jen Calonita

wardrobe (Hallie heard we're going to get to go to the next Fire and Ice party and we'll be dressed by the stylists for it), and our shooting schedule. I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn to see Addison.
    “Are you girls ready to celebrate?” Addison asks, and looks at her watch. “It's later than we planned, so we should head to dinner. Susan said the restaurant is holding a reservation for us. I thought I'd join you, if you don't mind, so we can talk more.”
    Brooke grabs her arm. “Quick Q right now,” she says. “What was with all the backstabbing questions? I felt like Bruce was trying to get me to bad-mouth the girls.”
    Addison groans and clutches her head. Her funky silver bangle hits her in the face. “Sorry about that. I told them to feel you girls out about everything, but I didn't mean for them to make you uncomfortable. I was just trying to get a sense of your group dynamic.”
    I relax a little. “I felt like they wanted me to say I hate Brooke!”
    Addison laughs. “I'm sorry. The show will
not
be like that. When I first started here, I spent a week on this Fire and Ice dating show.” She looks around to make sure no one is listening. “That show was all about the controversy. You know when you're watching a reality show and they cut to a person alone in a room doing an interview?” We all nod. “Well, a lot of times the way they get a person to talk trash about someone else on the show is to set a trap. They tell one person what another person said to get them fired up.”
    “No way,” Hallie says, flabbergasted. “I always assumed the people doing the bashing were the jerks.”
    Addison shakes her head. “Not always. If you push someone hard enough on camera, anyone can sound or look like a jerk. They do it to get better sound bites.” Addison smiles. “But enough of that talk. Let's eat.”
    “Sounds great,” says Hallie, and then when Addison walks ahead of us, she whispers to me, “I really like her.”
    “Me too,” I admit. “At first I was worried she was too young, but she seems so cool and together.”
    We walk through Times Square to an Italian joint called Gagliano's. The streets are crowded and we huddle together, hands linked, trying to avoid being separated by a street performer and a group of girls hovering outside MTV. I watch the people walk by, most of them barely looking at us, and I can't help but wonder if that will change after our show airs. Will people want our autographs? Will our pictures be in the tabloids? Will we get invited to cool parties in the Hamptons this summer? The streets around us are so loud between the taxis honking and the chatter of tourists and bus companies trying to get people on board, that I imagine if I screamed happily, no one would even hear me.
    We reach the restaurant and a hostess seats us at a large table in the back. Gagliano's is a crowded place with dim lighting, loud Italian music, and typical Italian restaurant scenery—the pictures of Italy, Frank Sinatra songs, and smell of roasted garlic. I eye the food at the next table. The plates are family style with huge, overflowing bowls of pasta and chicken cutlets the size of my fist. Once we're settled and our parents are looking over menus, Addison nudges me. “I promise next time you're in the city, we'll take you someplace less touristy and more fabulous.”
    “This place is cool,” I tell her.
    “Yeah,” Addison says, “but you girls are TV stars now—we have to take you to the Soho Grand or the Library. You're going to be the toast of the town before you know it.”
    “What if our show tanks?” I want to know. I want to shred the napkin on my lap, I'm that afraid of her answer.
    Addison shakes her head. “It will never happen. We know how to make a show a success and with you guys we won't even have to try that hard. The viewers are going to love you.”
    “Hell yeah!” Brooke seconds and raises her diet Coke.
    A waitress appears with a tray of champagne