Real As It Gets

Book 3: Rumor Central

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley

Genres: Young Adult

Synopsis

She can uncover the biggest celebrity secrets, but now Maya Morgan's hottest story ever is way too up close and personal. For once, everything in Maya's life is falling perfectly into place. She's getting serious media cred uncovering the source of a new designer drug doing major glitterati damage, and the new man in her life is giving her all the cool bling and attention she craves off-camera. But the truth behind her scoop is about to cut too close to home - and put Maya and her family in the crosshairs. Soon, she'll have to decide just how far she can afford to go to save her family, her career…and herself.

Release date: December 31, 2013

Publisher: Urban Audiobooks

Print pages: 208

Sample

The image on the screen gave me chills.

I knew Savannah Vanderpool. She was a beautiful former Miss Teen Miami who had branched out to movies. We’d taken some modeling classes together when I was in middle school and although I didn’t talk to her much anymore, we kept in touch through Instagram and Twitter. It wasn’t often that I gave other girls props. But Savannah had earned hers. She was Beyoncé, Ciara, and Meagan Good rolled up into one. A class act, that’s who Savannah was.

Was.

Because this chick I was looking at right then, was anything but classy. She looked like a crackhead, meth head, and dope fiend rolled up into one.

Savannah’s eyes were sunken, almost like her face was swallowing them. She had dark circles around her eyes and her face was taut and dry. Her skin was sagging, looking like it was just hanging on to her bones. Her once-beautiful blond hair was stringy and the dark roots were showing. The only modeling she could do now would be in a “just say no” drug ad.

“Maya,” my director, Manny, whispered in my earpiece. “Go! You’re live!”

I caught myself. I didn’t usually let anything get me off my game when I was in hosting mode at my talk show, Rumor Central, but seeing Savannah’s picture had definitely left me speechless.

“Wow, I guess you can say I’m a little stunned myself,” I continued, turning my attention back to the camera. “If you knew Savannah Vanderpool like I knew Savannah Vanderpool, you’d be just as shocked.”

We’d gotten the story about Savannah being arrested just minutes before I was going on the air. My producer, Dexter, had handed me a sheet with some limited information and told me to wing it. I had no problem with that because dishing dirt was what had made me so popular on Rumor Central. I was even used to dishing dirt about my friends, especially because I was usually the one who had dug up the dirt. Even though I’d stopped airing my friends’ dirty laundry, I had no problem digging in other celebrities’ backyards. I had to. Since I started Rumor Central four months before, it had become one of the hottest gossip shows in the country. We were now shown in seventeen major cities and my popularity was through the roof. Celebs as big as Usher and Rihanna called me when they wanted to “slip” out a little gossip, and other celebrities tried to become my best friends to keep their dirt off the air. So, a little scandalous story never shocked me. But this picture of Savannah—I wasn’t ready for that.

“This is just in to the Rumor Central studios,” I continued, “so we haven’t been able to get all the details, but rumor has it that this mug shot is from Savannah’s arrest last night after she caused a scene at the Sports Illustrated reception. Apparently, she arrived to the event high, dazed, and acting out. Witnesses say she was actually in a psychotic-like state. Organizers saw her and refused to let her go on stage. We’re told Savannah was so high that she took off all her clothes and began running through the party screaming and crying as she destroyed everything in sight.”

I took a deep breath as an earlier photo of Savannah as Miss Teen Miami flashed on the screen.

I continued. “Our sources tell us Savannah was high on K2, a hyped-up version of Kush, the popular synthetic drug sweeping the country. We don’t know much about K2, but you’d better believe that Rumor Central is all over this story and we’ll keep you updated. I’m your girl, Maya Morgan, and we’ll be back right after this.”

I tossed to the break and motioned for my new assistant, Yolanda, to get me some water. Usually, we kept it light and gossipy on Rumor Central. I didn’t get all deep into stories, and this was exactly the reason why. These kinds of stories were just too much.

“You okay?” Yolanda asked as she handed me a cooled bottle of Fiji Water.

I took a sip of the water. “Yeah, just trippin’ over that picture.” I glanced over at the photo, which was still up on the monitor. I’d seen Savannah about six months before and she had looked fine. How could someone get like that in just a few months?

Dexter came over to me on the set as Yolanda scurried away.

“Great job, Maya. I got some more details. Apparently, this K2 is more powerful than Kush, and it’s getting really hot among celebrities. It looks like spices, or potpourri, and they say it was created in China or Korea as a plant growth stimulant. It’s about ten times more potent than meth.”

“Just wow,” I said, shaking my head again at the picture. I knew some celebs that dabbled in drugs, but judging from the way she looked, Savannah had done a lot more than dabble. “I just can’t believe that she’s fallen off like that.”

“Do you know Savannah?” Dexter anxiously asked as he ran his hands through his head full of bright red hair, something he did whenever he was excited. “I mean, personally? I figured you did since you know everybody.”

Dexter was right about that. Before I was on-air—first as one of the five members of the Miami Divas reality show, then as the host of my own show—I was already at the top of the food chain as the leader of Miami’s “It Clique,” as one magazine had put it. In fact, that was why I’d been approached to do the reality show in the first place. Miami Divas hadn’t done as well as they’d wanted, so they’d canceled it, fired the other four Divas, and given me my own show. That had been the smartest thing since the invention of the Internet, because in no time, I became the go-to chick for all the latest celebrity gossip, dirt, and entertainment news. Rumor Central had exceeded everyone’s expectations and had even been picked up by networks in several other cities.

My BFF, Sheridan, had been one of the original Miami Divas who was fired, and that had led to a whole lotta drama, but we’d squashed that and were back to kickin’ it. I couldn’t say the same about the other busters from Miami Divas. Shay, Bali, and Evian still had stank attitudes about the way everything had gone down. (They claimed we’d had a pact to stick together and I sold them out by taking my own show. As if any of them would’ve turned it down if the shoe was on the other foot. Whatever.) Bali didn’t even live in Miami anymore, and he still let me know he was mad with messy text messages, all of which I just ignored.

“So, do you know her or not?” Dexter asked again, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I knew he wasn’t asking out of concern. He was probably trying to see if I could get some kind of inside scoop.

“Yeah, I know her. Or, at least I used to know her,” I replied. “The Savannah I knew would never allow herself to look like that.” I pointed at the screen.

“The research department is trying to see if we can find any other celeb arrests behind this drug,” Dexter said.

I didn’t get it because drugs were whack. Anything that took me off my A-game, I didn’t need to be doing. And as fabulous as I was, I didn’t need anything messing up my flawless bronze skin, long, all-natural, soft brown hair, and perfect Pilates-toned body. I was a quarter-piece (because a dime just didn’t do me justice). So, no way would I ever let some kind of drug—be it weed, X, coke, or anything else—take that away from me.

Savannah used to be the same way. Was K2 powerful enough to make her change her mind? I glanced at the picture again. Obviously, it was, because Savannah had basically thrown her life away for it.

And that, I would never understand.

I hadn’t been able to get that picture of Savannah out of my head all night long. When I’d left the station after the show, I’d tried to call my friend Kirby. She and I used to take modeling classes with Savannah, and I knew the two of them talked regularly. I was hoping Kirby could tell me what was going on, but I hadn’t been able to get in touch with her.

I glanced at my watch. Late again. Since I hadn’t slept well, I was running late for school. (Oh, who was I kidding? I was always running late.) But this time I was later than normal. It was almost third period.

“Who’s the fiercest chick at Miami High?” a voice from behind me said just as I entered the building.

I turned around and smiled at my BFF, Sheridan Matthews, looking her usual fly self in an orange Juicy Couture jacket and Rockstar jeans.

“Why, me, of course,” we both said together, although I didn’t have my usually oomph.

“What’s up with you?” Sheridan asked, losing her smile. “You seem out of it.”

“Just tired,” I said.

“Me too,” Sheridan replied, yawning as she got in step with me. Sheridan was the daughter of the legendary Glenda Matthews, who was probably the hottest singer/actor in Hollywood. Ms. Matthews wanted to keep Sheridan away from the glitz of Hollywood, so she kept my BFF in Miami with some of their family, who were supposed to keep an eye on her. Notice I said supposed to, because those shiesty relatives just took Ms. Matthews’s money and let Sheridan run free. That was perfectly fine with Sheridan, though. She loved not having to answer to anyone. Fortunately she had a good head on her shoulders and stayed out of trouble. Well, major trouble, anyway.

Sheridan and I walked past a group of students who were dragging up the walkway, late as well. Because of all the money our parents paid for us to go to the prestigious private Miami High School, the teachers often cut us slack when it came to things like punctuality, but I’d been pushing my luck since I’d started hosting Rumor Central. Not only was I late almost daily, my grades were plummeting because I barely had time for anything outside of the show. I’d been trying to get my academic act together since my mom had threatened to make me quit my show if I didn’t get my grades up. (As if that would really happen.) Even still, I wasn’t trying to flunk out of my senior year, so I’d been working on getting my grades up. There was nothing cute about being dumb.

I’d given up on the whole tutor thing because I hadn’t had much luck with that. The last two tutors I’d had had turned out to be psychopaths (long story). Now I was just trying to do it myself.

“I know I look fabulous, and my body is here, but my mind is still snuggled up under my pillow,” Sheridan said as we walked into the building just as the bell rang, dismissing the second period.

“Who are you telling?” I said. “It took everything under the sun for me to come to school today, but I have Mrs. Washington’s test next. She said if I miss it I’ll get a zero since it’s a major grade, so here I am.”

Sheridan stopped and stared at me. “Are you worried about your grade in her class? Is that why you look all stressed?”

I shook my head. My grades were concerning to me, but not enough to lose any sleep over. “Nah. Did you see the show yesterday? That’s what’s on my mind.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sheridan said, scooting out of the way as two of my silly classmates nearly knocked us over as they played in the hall. “Idiots!” Sheridan snapped, then turned back to me. “I tried to call you last night after I saw that. Is that the Savannah that you used to model with?”

I nodded. “Yeah, that’s her. Wasn’t that story wild?”

“Yeah, she looked horrible,” Sheridan replied. “What happened to her?”

“What do you think happened? She got strung out, then she flipped out at a party. I haven’t been able to get much more info than that.” I was hoping that I could talk to Kirby sometime today because I really wanted to know what had happened to Savannah.

“I just can’t believe it. I mean, didn’t she just score that Sports Illustrated cover?” Sheridan asked.

“Umm-hmm,” I replied. “But I’m sure they don’t want her posing now.” Savannah was just two years older than me, but she had already scored some gigs even seasoned models couldn’t get. “Can you ...” I stopped talking as my ex, Bryce Logan, walked toward me in the hallway. His arm was planted firmly around this girl named Callie, and she was giggling and smiling at him all dreamily. Yes, Bryce had money, looks, and physique. He was all that and then some. But, he was also history, which meant that he wouldn’t be getting the time of day from me. I was all prepared to ignore him, but he tried to ignore me first.

Whatever. I just laughed as I opened my locker and pulled out my binder. The last thing I was going to do was give him any satisfaction that he was even on my radar.

“So that’s how he’s going to play it?” Sheridan asked, turning her nose up at Bryce. He and Callie had stopped at the end of the hallway and were kissing all over each other. How tacky!

“He can play it however he wants,” I replied, not looking over his way even though I could see out of the corner of my eye the way Callie was eyeballing me. “Bryce can have that D-list chick.” Bryce had been my boo. I’d thought he was my soul mate, but we broke up because he let people fill his head with a bunch of lies about me—twice. He tried to apologize, but I didn’t get down like that. If a guy was going to be with me, he was going to be ride-or-die and nobody would be able to tell him something about me to make him just dump me (although I would never admit to anyone that Bryce had actually dumped me and not the other way around).

“Yeah, he needs to know you’ve moved on anyway. . .