Spiral (3 page)

I take a second to digest this news. I know exactly who that is, but I make sure my tongue doesn’t come lolling out of my mouth. The heat I feel in my chest wants to rise to my cheeks. Why didn’t I know anything about this?

Quite the opposite of what’s happening inside, I play it cool on the outside. “The girl on that chocolate show on Kidz Network?
That
Cherie Belle?”

Brenton, exalted, falls on his knees and throws his hands to the sky. “Oh, just the sound of her name makes me crave Belgian Chocolate!”

Claudia spits, “Get up, Brenton! The last thing little miss celebrity needs is a bigger head.”

I chime in for effect. “Yeah, that’s not even acting Brenton, it’s just a show about chocolate.” My imagination, however, pants a little at the thought of Cherie Belle walking through my home, sitting at my table…

Brenton snaps me back to reality before my imagination goes too far. “JUST a show about chocolate? Jack, it is THE show about chocolate – I mean, what a brilliant idea to have a whole show based on chocolate, only the most delectable sweet in the world!”

Leroy forgets no one was talking to him. “Is that the show ‘Choc It Up?’ I think I’ve seen it. Quite an ingenious concept; I never knew there were so many types of chocolate. Did you know that the cocoa pods symbolized life and fertility to the Mayans?”

Brenton cocks a suspicious eyebrow. “No, where did you hear that? That wasn’t in any of the episodes; trust me, I have them all memorized.”

Claudia is irritated but tries to feign genuine interest. “How do you know all this stuff, Leroy?”

Chloe is not as gentle. “Yeah, who has the time to memorize all this useless information?”

“Back off,” I command, puffing my chest a little. I am almost a full foot taller than them. They have to listen to me, sort of fear me in that scary, big brother way, even if I kind of see their point.

Brenton defends him, too. “Yeah, there is nothing useless about chocolate facts!” Aside to Leroy, he whispers, “But how
do
you know that?”

Leroy gives his trademark impish shrug. “I read a lot, I guess.” His cheeks are the color of strawberry jell-o, and I grow that much angrier. Even if they’re only sophomores, the twins are still probably the prettiest girls to ever actually talk to him, and they just made him feel like a total loser.

Just then, the women of the house parade through the room with mouth-watering platters of food. In a seemingly deliberate tango performed to the tune of incessant clucking, these mavens gracefully set portions of sliced turkey, Granny’s casserole, and more deliciousness around the kid table. Watching them makes me forget to be angry, forget Cherie Belle, because my stomach instantly reminds me that I’ve been ready to eat for over an hour.

Chloe continues her nasty assault on Leroy as the women make their way back into the kitchen.

“It’s not normal for someone to memorize all that stuff,” she snaps.

“Well, whatever, let’s just start sitting down,” I interrupt. I go to the staircase and summon my little sister. “Brat, time to eat!”

Britney comes scampering down and jumps into my arms. I set her into a chair beside me. The others begin sitting at the table one by one with a clear divide of the families. There is an empty seat beside Brenton, and Leroy attempts to sit in it.

“Hey! That’s Cheecho’s chair!” he complains. He’s had his imaginary friend since kindergarten. My brother received the nerd gene for sure. Maybe it’s because he’s so much younger; it probably skips a generation or something like that. Like how Aunt Darla’s so cool and Leroy’s practically a savant. Well, I’m pretty cool, I think, and my brother’s a complete loser.

Leroy is confused but accepts it. “Okay, I guess I’ll go sit by the girls.”

Chloe holds up her hand before he can sit beside her. “Uh, no way Factmonster!” They giggle together.

I roll my eyes, too busy pouring Britney’s juice to reach across the table and choke them. “You girls are so stupid,” is the best I can do. For now.

Brenton is flabbergasted. “Yeah, you know we need a seat for Cheecho!”

Chloe sighs. “Brenton, Cheecho doesn’t exist. Let your cousin sit there.”

Brenton is now at Level: Horrified. “How
dare
you!”

Claudia looks at me imploringly. “Jack, tell your super-weird little brother that his imaginary friend needs to go sit at the imaginary friend table!”

I hold my head. “Pass the turkey please.”

Leroy takes his place beside Brenton after a slight struggle. “Don’t you think it would be polite to wait for Cherie?”

A
s if on cue, we hear the doorbell chime. There is a lot of commotion at the front door. The twins instinctively roll their eyes to each other. Brenton sits up at attention. Even my stomach lurches a little bit. Mark and Camille, the twins’ aunt and uncle, come fluttering through to say their hellos. They are overly tanned with blindingly white teeth and leave a cloud of obnoxious European colognes behind. They quickly retreat back into the main dining room with gusto. Finally, we hear the exaggeratedly baby-high voice of none other than Cherie Belle.

“Oh my gosh, I KNOW! Isn’t it wild?” Like an angel, she enters the room, practically adorned by an aura of light. Her bouncy, blond curls help her pink, glossed smile scream innocent young teenager. Her big green eyes flash with the same “I’m perfect and I know it” sparkle that her cousins have, except better and brighter. She’s the epitome of gorgeous. I shift in my chair. Do I get up? Do I welcome her to our home?

No
, I chastise myself,
don’t be ridiculous
. The twins notice my indecisiveness and shake their heads in disapproval. I look over at Leroy, who is already nose-deep in his book, as if none of this is happening. At least I’m not the most awkward person here.

An older girl follows Cherie into the room. She is slightly less glamorous and holds a planner in one hand and a cellphone in the other. She’s not an actress who I recognize. Best friend or assistant? I can’t tell. They are both dressed in matching, fluffy fur outfits.

Cherie turns and shouts over her shoulder, “Thanks Uncle Jim! Thanks Eva.”

She makes sure none of the adults are looking before sticking her finger down her throat to fake a gag. Her assista-friend laughs, and they continue to walk toward the table haughtily. Cherie takes in the scene with disgust as she begins to remove gloves that reach up to her elbows. Brenton is frozen for a moment in shock and awe. Then, he rushes forward and throws himself at her feet.

“Welcome to our home!” he says, bent over like he is praying to a goddess.

“Brenton!” I hiss. “Get up!” He ignores me. If my face could get any hotter, my skin would melt.

Cherie also doesn’t acknowledge me, too disgusted by my embarrassing little brother. “Seriously?” She steps over Brenton, who accepts his unworthiness while a piece of him dies. She pats his head, and he comes alive again, as if touched by an angel. As we all stare in subdued shock, the conversation with her matching apostle goes a little like this:

Cherie: “Ugh, this is so common.”

Assista-friend: “So common.”

Cherie: “I’m a prisoner for the next two hours.”

Assista-friend: “Oh, this is totally jail.”

Cherie: “Who ever heard of Westchester anyway?”

Assista-friend: “No one goes upstate except to ski or pick apples.”

Cherie: “I mean, like, it’s cute and quaint in that homey sort of way –”

Assista-friend: “Yeah, yeah, it’s cute – ”

Cherie: “ – if you like that sort of thing.”

Assista-friend: “ – which is so not our speed.”

Until this moment, I had been pretty sure this kind of stuff only happens in movies. They’ve proven me wrong.

Cherie, looking around with concern, stops her assista-friend in her tracks. “Danika, you don’t think The Gazer is outside, do you? These New York tabloids are ruthless, you know.”

Danika replies, “I was very careful when I scoped out the place. It’s clean.”

“Great.” She approaches the table with Danika still at her heels. “Happy Hanukkah, everyone.
Claudia. Chloe.
”

Chloe sniffs, “Why, look what the trash magazines dragged in.”

Claudia will tolerate none of her cousin’s insensitivity. “It’s Happy
Holidays
, Cherie, not Happy Hanukkah. Notice the giant Christmas tree? We celebrate both now.”

Cherie smiles daggers at her. “How nice for you.” She looks at me, and my heart stops. Her eyes twinkle, and she turns on her TV smile, extending her hand dramatically toward me. “And you are…?”

There is nothing cool about how I nearly trip over myself to stand as she approaches. I’m stuttering slightly as I shake her hand. “I – I’m Jack Hansen.”

Cherie studies me, her eyes moving up and down my clothes and then back to my face. She approves me with a short, high-pitched “Mmmhmm,” then looks to Leroy, who is immersed in his book and has missed everything that has happened from the moment she entered. Cherie clears her throat and goes unnoticed. One of her eyebrows rises a little at his disinterest.

“I see. Curious fellow.” She rolls her eyes to Danika and groans, “Well, let’s get this over with, shall we?”

She sits down beside Claudia, and Danika looks at Claudia as if she should know she will have to move. I realize that the table is one seat short, and my mom will flip if she finds out she’s forgotten to set a place for a guest.

But the girls are no help. Claudia growls, “Don’t even think about it.”

Danika looks to Chloe, who bites, “Get your own chair.” The girl looks on to the next seat, which is Britney’s.

Britney, always taking her cue from the older girls, shouts, “Get your own!”

“Brat, don’t be rude,” I scold quietly. I stand again to give my chair away, but Brenton quickly scoots his chair all the way to that end of the table to offer it to the girls. He sets it right beside Danika, who takes it with a short, “Thanks.”

He practically salutes her. “Brenton Hansen, at your service. I’m Cherie’s number one fan.” Brenton, breathless, puts his hands on his hips and declares, “Any friend of Cherie’s is a friend of mine.”

Chloe scoffs, “You may have to lose Cheecho with that mindset.”

“Yeah, Cherie doesn’t believe in imaginary friends,” adds Claudia unhelpfully.

Oh no
. “Okay, we should really start to eat – ” I announce.

Danika looks at Brenton, bemused. “Wait, you have an imaginary friend? What are you, five years old?” He shrinks a little, his jaw hanging slack.

Britney counts on her fingers before cheerily crying out, “I’m five!”

Brenton grows quiet and turns pink. “I – I’m ten – ”

My nerve endings spike, as if I smell the eruption that is about to take place.
No, no, no, don’t pop Brenton’s bubble, please don’t do this here and now….

But Cherie does it. “Ten? Wow, buddy, time to lose the faux friends,” she snickers. Looking at the hurt on Brenton’s face, I suddenly want to hide, embarrassed for him, but even more embarrassed to be related to him.

Chloe lets out her own obnoxious laugh and looks right at Danika. “Someone should take their own advice.”

Cherie turns snake eyes onto her cousin and hisses, “This coming from the girl who doesn’t have any friends, real or fake.” Danika high-fives her.

Aunt Darla reappears, like an angel of peace, chanting, “I hope you’ve saved a seat for me! I just cannot sit at that boring old adult table!” She looks around in dismay. “Oh poo, not a seat left here.”

She sees Cherie and brightens. Her heels make
tip-tip-tip
sounds as she scurries to her side of the table and hovers over the starlet. There is a collective groan from the rest of the table, except for me. I’m still trying to be a gentleman, but I’m apparently the only one. Even Leroy is exhausted by his mother’s presence.

“Oh, Cherie! I didn’t see you come in! I’m so sorry you couldn’t make the wedding, I was so looking forward to meeting you.”

“And you are?” Cherie looks like she’s about to shake the hand of a vagabond. I’m starting to not like this girl at all; all the blond curls in the world don’t make up for what she lacks in manners.

Like she does in response to Chloe’s snarky remarks, my aunt plugs along, oblivious. “Darla. Aunt Darla, if you like! So glad you could make it tonight; I’ve heard so much about you on the news – and that new movie you’re doing! Girl, you have got to tell me what it was like working with that Caz Farrell. Is what the magazines said true? Were you two dating?”

Cherie glows, clearly flattered by the implication. “Oh, not at all, Darcy.”

“It’s Darla, dear,” my aunt reminds her.

Cherie is unfazed by her own error. “Right, whatever – Caz is a great guy, but he’s really just a friend. I’m too young to be dating Caz.”

Danika adds, “Yeah, she’s way too young to date Caz, he’s much older.”

Claudia is quick to remark, “Let’s be real, Cherie.”

Cherie scrunches her nose in disgust. “Speculate all you like, but I am as real as they come.”

“Right down to your ridiculous fur coat,” Chloe says with another eye roll.

I smell the fight brewing again. “Can someone please pass the turkey?”

C
herie pauses and looks at the table as if seeing it for the first time. “Turkey? Oh no, this won’t work; I’m a vegan.”

Danika squints at her. “But we had turkey wraps on Sunday –“ Cherie scolds her, “Yeah, and I did the interview on Channel 5 with Jules Cinque on Tuesday, stupid! Remember? When we were on commercial break, she told me to go vegan?” She looks at the rest of us as if we were supposed to be aware of this bit of information. “That’s what Dr. Forrester told her to do.”

The memory comes back to Danika. “Oh yeah.”

Chloe sighs, “Fancy that, a vegan who wears real furs.”

The connection is lost on Cherie, who gives Chloe that mean-girl look that says, “
No one here knows what you’re talking about
.”

Claudia asks, “So you do whatever anyone tells you to do? That’s not going to get you very far.”

Cherie finds her new victim and patronizes her. “Uh, no, it got me a TV show, sweetie. What has dressing like Hannah Montana done for you?” I feel almost badly for Claudia, who certainly doesn’t have the wits required to develop a sufficient comeback. She gawks at her cousin and then looks down at her clothes in disbelief.