For Real(19)

“Reality TV is a great equalizer,” I tell those six eager faces. “Pretty much everywhere else, in entertainment and in real life, the beautiful, charismatic people like my sister get special privileges. They don’t have to try, and things just happen for them. But on reality shows, you have the same chance of succeeding even if you’re awkward and average-looking, like me. As long as you’re smart and creative and you have an interesting story to tell, nobody really cares if you suck at small talk or if you’re wearing the wrong jeans, you know? Like, have you guys ever seen that show GuilloTeen?”

“Once or twice,” Charlotte says. She looks really interested in everything I’m saying.

“There was this guy last season—Ray, I think? He was like a hundred pounds overweight, and he had this awful mullet, and he talked about comics constantly. If he went to my school, he’d be a total laughingstock. But he outsmarted everyone, and he won. And when they interviewed him afterward, he started crying, and he talked about how nobody had ever taken him seriously before because he wasn’t suave and thin and hot. But the producers of that show gave him a chance when nobody else would. And now people all over the country know how awesome he is, and they know that people like him can be awesome. That’s what reality TV is about for me.”

“Wow,” Santa says. He’s nodding slowly, like I’ve given him a lot to think about. Oprah is scribbling notes in her pad, and Piercings looks like he’s about two seconds from starting a slow clap. For the first time, I’m relieved that my sister’s not in the room. I would never have been able to get all that out with her looking at me, not to mention talking over me.

“Those are very astute observations, Claire,” Charlotte says. “You’ll make a great producer someday. Thank you for sharing that with us. Now, let’s switch topics for a few minutes. What can you tell us about your dating life?”

At first I think I must have heard her wrong. “I’m sorry, my … what?”

“Your love life,” Sunburn says. “Do you have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend?”

What does this have to do with racing around the world? Are they asking because of the Samir situation? “No,” I say. “I like guys, but I don’t have a boyfriend. Is that a problem?”

Sunburn laughs. “Of course not. Tell us about your last boyfriend. How long were you together?”

And just when I thought I had my feet under me, I’m totally out of control again. The casting team looked so impressed with me a minute ago, and I don’t want to tell them that I’ve never even had a real date, unless you count the handful of times Doug Garfield and I cut study hall to make out in his car. “Um,” I say, scrambling for a way to spin the truth. “I’m not really into serious relationships. I like to keep things casual, keep my options open, you know?”

“Are you telling us you’re totally inexperienced with boys?” asks Sunburn.

“No, of course not,” I say, like that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.

“I get it,” Piercings says. “You like to play the field. I respect that.” Behind him, the cameraman waggles his eyebrows at me. Ew.

“And why do you find yourself shying away from commitment, Claire?” asks Charlotte. “Is it because you don’t believe in love?”

I start laughing. “No. I believe in love.”

“Even after what Samir did to your sister?”

“Sure. One guy being a moron can’t destroy an entire concept.”

“So if you believe in love, why don’t you believe in relationships?”

“I believe in them. The right person just hasn’t turned up yet.” Horrifyingly, an image of Will Divine pops into my head, and I feel myself starting to blush. I push the thought away. “I go to a really small school—there are only, like, two hundred guys, and I’ve known a lot of them since I was three. When you’ve seen someone peeing in the sandbox and licking scented markers, it’s pretty much impossible to date him, you know?” Everyone laughs, and I relax a little.

“Sounds rough,” Santa says. “Did your sister have the same problem finding people to date in high school?”

“I guess not, no. She actually dated a fair number of people.”

“How do you explain that?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe I have higher standards than she does.”

“Or maybe Miranda’s more open-minded than you are?”

“You don’t know the guys at my school. If you did, you’d understand why I’d rather not open my mind too much.” Everyone laughs again, and a warm feeling blooms in my chest. I’m actually doing this—I’m sitting in front of a bunch of executives, without Miranda, and I’m totally holding my own. They think I’m funny, and in a ha-ha way, not a what a freak way.

“Tell me, Claire,” Charlotte says. “If a situation were to arise on the show in which only you or Miranda could continue racing, would you help your sister and risk being eliminated, or would you save yourself?”

“What?” I say. “That would never happen—we’re on the same team, so we’d be eliminated together, right?”

“Pretend it was a possibility. What would you do?”