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The bestselling authors of The Nanny Diaries introduce a new heroine to root for: Jesse O'Rourke, coffee barista, high school senior, and unwitting reality TV star.
Imagine there was never a Laguna Beach, a Newport Harbor, the shimmering Hills. Imagine that your hometown—your school—is the first place XTV descends to set up cameras.
Now imagine they've trained them on you.
When Jesse O'Rourke gets picked for a "documentary" being filmed at her school in the Hamptons she's tempted to turn down the offer. But there's a tuition check attached to being on the show, and Jesse needs the cash so she can be the first in her family to attend college. All she has to do is trade her best friend for the glam clique she's studiously avoided, her privacy for a 24/7 mike, and her sense of right and wrong for "what sells on camera." . . . At least there's one bright spot in the train wreck that is her suddenly public senior year: Jesse's crush has also made the cast.
As the producers manipulate the lives of their "characters" to heighten the drama, and Us Weekly covers become a regular occurrence for Jesse, she must struggle to remember one thing: the difference between real and the real real.
| ISBN-13: | 9780061911422 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | HarperCollins |
| Publication date: | 05/19/2009 |
| Sold by: | HARPERCOLLINS |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 336 |
| File size: | 853 KB |
| Age Range: | 14 - 17 Years |
Emma Mclaughlin and Nicola Kraus work together in New York City and are the authors of the new novel Between You and Me. They are also the authors of The Nanny Diaries, which was made into a major motion picture, the New York Times bestsellers Citizen Girl, Dedication, and Nanny Returns, and their first YA novel, The Real Real.
Emma Mclaughlin and Nicola Kraus work together in New York City and are the authors of the new novel Between You and Me. They are also the authors of The Nanny Diaries, which was made into a major motion picture, the New York Times bestsellers Citizen Girl, Dedication, and Nanny Returns, and their first YA novel, The Real Real.
Hometown:
New York, New YorkPlace of Birth:
McLaughlin: Elmira, New York; Kraus: New York, New YorkEducation:
B.A., Gallatin School of Individualized Study, NYU (McLaughlin, 1996; Kraus, 1995)
The Real Real
Chapter One
"Single file! Everyone, line up on the LEFT!" Mrs. Gesop shouts to be heard over the din of students crowding into the impractically narrow hallway between the stairwell and the auditorium. "We will let you in when everyone is lined up neatly against the wall!" It's a physical impossibility for the hundred-plus seniors of Hampton High to fit along the eight-foot stretch of wall, and as more students step off the stairs we're getting packed in here like panicked cattle. Just open the double doors, lady, and let us in.
Caitlyn wriggles into the air pocket at my right, her face flushed and damp. "What's going on?" she pants, tucking her most recent DIY blond streak behind her ear. "I got to bio late because the Camry wouldn't start—of course I get one semester to park at school, and the crapbox dies every time it snows—and run into an empty room with just the chalkboard saying come here. What does it mean? Is it terrorists?"
"It's probably some stupid college thing." I pat her on the shoulder. "And at least you have a crapbox."
Caitlyn snaps her fingers in front of my face. "Okay, focus." She flips open her phone to show me the last text she received before the eight o'clock bell. "Rob says Drew Rudell showed up puffy-eyed to cross-country practice this morning."
"Really. Why?"
"Dumped over Christmas break. One semester of longdistance love was all she could handle."
"She dumped him?" I grab her wrist to steady myself as we sway in the middle of the bovine huddle. "They were practically married last spring. What is Sarah Lawrence, a two-hour, three-hour drive? For him Iwould've Rollerbladed that." We reflexively drop our chins to our chests and try to look out through our bangs to locate Drew, while I furtively brush on some Benetint.
"He's behind you," she says. "And, despite said puffiness, does have a certain. .. available vibe to him. Looks like your year of silent prayers and that Santeria candle we bought have finally paid off."
I turn to her, making full-force eye contact. "Find out everything you can before lunch. Did she really initiate the breakup, was there infidelity, and who got custody of the windbreaker."
"On it."
"ALL RIGHT, SENIORS! Since we cannot seem to convince you to line up, I only ask that when we open the doors you move in AN ORDERLY FASHION to the front of the auditorium and take seats. In an ORDERLY FASHION!"
The double doors finally give, and everyone flies down the aisles as if cash prizes were at stake.
Caitlyn and I go directly to seats midway in on the left—for no other reason than that's where we happened to sit day one freshman year, so now that's where we always camp—and slouch back for the presentation. Whatever's coming is bound to be tedious—better be comfortable. "I think I'm going to have to pee," Caitlyn leans over to whisper. "I downed a venti latte after I got the car jumped."
"Caitlyn, it's not a high-powered job on Wall Street, it's AP Bio. Why do you need three shots of espresso?"
"It's good for my metabolism."
I roll my eyes. "I will beat you."
"What? I gave up Parliaments and aspartame, let me have the beans—" She cuts off at the sight of Nico Sargossi, Melanie Dubviek, and Trisha Wright coming down the aisle behind us for the First Day Back Big Christmas Loot Reveal—Nico probably has a new Maserati from Santa/Daddy's dealership parked outside. And Melanie and Trisha are both sporting the same fur vest Victoria Beckham wore to the People's Choice Awards.
"Do you have any idea how many shifts at Bambette I'd have to work to afford that?" Caitlyn whispers into my shoulder.
"Maybe the Hampton branch of PETA'll hit 'em with spray cans at lunch. I'll put in a call."
The Three Graces take their seats across the aisle from us next to Jase McCaffrey, still flushed from morning basketball practice, his black hair damp to his forehead. Nico reaches across Trisha to squeeze her boyfriend's hand. At least I think it was his hand. Can't see from here.
"Think they applied to the same colleges?" Caitlyn asks, referring to Hampton High's own Brangelina.
"They only overlap at six out of nine."
"It's sick that you know that."
"You didn't get the flier?" I surreptitiously fold a piece of gum into my mouth.
Also wet-haired from a post-practice shower, Rick Sachs slides into his permanently saved seat on the other side of Jase.
"What if they get to college," Caitlyn asks as Trisha leans forward to talk to Melanie, leaving Nico to kiss Jase over her rounded back, "and there are other couples there that are at least as hot—maybe hotter—and have been together twice as long?"
"Since the womb?"
"Ladies, gentlemen." Our principal walks onstage in front of the slushie-blue velvet curtain, his orthopedic dress shoes squeaking against the polyurethaned wood. "Thank you for joining us this morning." Why is it they always thank us for the mandatory things? "We have a very exciting guest—"
"The president of the New York chapter of Ornithology Today!" Caitlyn whispers with hushed mania.
"Not just to me," he continues into the microphone, his new mustache giving him a certain Dr. Phil je ne sais quoi, "but, I suspect, exciting to you as well."
Caitlyn shrugs. It was a good guess.
"Seniors of Long Island's Hampton High School, please give a warm welcome to Fletch Chapman, president of programming for. .. XTV."
There is an audible ripple of "Wha?" as we turn to one another in disbelief. Not our XTV? This must be some obscure cable channel devoted to xylophones or X rays.
Looking not that much older than us, Fletch ambles onto the stage in Rock & Republic jeans, a black dress shirt rolled up to the elbows, and Prada sneakers. Okay, this might be our XTV. He takes the mike from Principal Stevens and swings it into his left hand Vegas-style. "Hey, guys." He pauses to flash a big Whitestrips smile. "You're probably wondering what I'm doing here and why I've dragged you away from your calculus and history." We are. Yes. "How many of you watch the show Park Avenue Confidential on the CW?" he asks with a swaggering selfassurance that must play well with the ladies.
The Real Real. Copyright © by Emma McLaughlin. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.“Really funny, really smart, and really entertaining. I really LOVED this book!”
As a child of the 80s and 90s, I’m hard-pressed to remember a time when reality TV didn’t rule the airwaves. It’s become such a basic cultural facet, whether it’s served up competition-style or you’re just watching a bunch of strangers claw each other’s eyes out (metaphorically, of course…mostly), that it’s amazing to think there […]
