The Gossip File (4 page)

Caleb's eyes laser into me and then go to the donut in my hand and the spoon on the floor. “What are you doing?” he asks.

“Nothing,” I say, shoving the donut into my apron pocket. I can practically hear Carrie and Taylor listening to our conversation as they go pick up the tossed donuts. “What are you doing here?”

“I have to come to the resort after soccer camp every day until my mom's done with work. Can I get a cookie?” He points at a chocolate chip one in the display case.

“Are you sure? They taste like curry.”

He shrugs. “I don't care. I'm hungry.”

As I wrap the cookie in some thin paper, I expect Carrie to ring it up, but she just waves her hand and says, “No charge.” I guess she knows he's Ellie's son.

I give Caleb a weak smile as I hand him the cookie. What if the other girls call me “Ava” or start talking about me riding horses? Or what if he calls me “Rachel” in front of them?

Since I'm praying for him to leave, of course, Caleb picks this moment to suddenly get chatty. “Have you seen the people on stilts walking around? They're going to be in the festival.”

I shake my head.

He chuckles. “They keep falling over.”

“That's because they don't know what they're doing,” Carrie says. “My brother's one of them. Your mom asked him to do it, even though he's not trained or anything.”

Caleb shrugs. “Yeah, Mom likes to do stuff like that. Are you guys going to be in the festival?”

“I'm supposed to sell cotton candy,” Carrie says.

“I'm one of the dancers,” Taylor pipes up. “It should be fun.”

“Do you know who's judging the catapult competition?” he asks.

Both girls shake their heads, making Caleb sigh. “Okay. I should go.” Then he heads for the door, already looking at his iPad again.

As the door swings shut behind him, I let out a sigh of relief that he didn't accidentally give me away. How do I always get myself into these situations?

“How do you know The Spy?” Carrie says, watching through the window as Caleb disappears around the corner.

“The Spy?” I say.

Carrie rolls her eyes. “Ellie sends him in here to spy on us every couple of days.”

I must look worried because Taylor says, “We don't think he actually tells her anything. How do you know him?”

“Um, Ellie introduced us this morning. He seems kind of bratty.”

“He's actually not that bad,” Carrie says.

“Besides,” Taylor adds, “his family is pretty crazy, so you can't blame him for being a pain.”

“Oh, Ava,” Carrie says. “I think Taylor, Kai, and I are going mini-golfing tonight. You want to come?”

It takes me a second to realize she's talking to me. “Tonight?”

“You can see Carrie's new car,” says Taylor. “She just got it a couple weeks ago and wouldn't stop talking about it for days.”

Whoa. Carrie has a car? I've never been friends with someone with a car. I've never even been friends with someone who was old enough to drive!

“I–I wish I could,” I say, and I really mean it. How much fun would it be to drive around with a bunch of older kids? But, of course, I can't. “Sorry, I have plans later.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Carrie says. “Ugh, my hair is such a mess today.” She flips her head down and runs her hands through her glossy hair before snapping it back. Somehow that simple move makes her blond waves look even better than they did a second ago.

Taylor puts her arm around my shoulders. “You're so much more fun than Melody.”

“Wh–what happened to her?” I ask. “Why did she get fired?”

Taylor's smile fades. “She was caught stealing from the register.”

“Yeah, heads up about that,” says Carrie. “They're pretty lenient about a lot of stuff here, but stealing isn't one of them. So watch out, okay?”

“Oh, don't worry,” I say. Not only did I learn my lesson about stealing after I “borrowed” almost three hundred dollars from my college fund, but my dad would never forgive me if I got into trouble while I was here visiting him.

“Melody also lied about stuff all the time,” Taylor says. “Trying to make herself sound a lot more interesting than she actually was.”

“To be honest,” Carrie says, “we couldn't stand her. You're definitely an upgrade, Ava.”

I swallow. I know I just met these girls, but already I like them. I don't want them to hate me for lying to them like they hated Melody. So I bite my lip and try not to look like a big, fat liar.

“There was one good thing about Melody, though,” Taylor says. She digs around under the counter and pulls out a fancy old copy of one of the Nancy Drew books.

“She read mysteries?” I say.

“She put some really funny stuff in the Gossip File,” Carrie says. “Check it out.”

As I take the book from Taylor, I realize that it's thicker than it should be. Tucked in between the pages of the novel are dozens of pieces of hotel stationery covered in different handwriting.

“What are all these notes?” I say.

“Gossip about the resort,” Carrie says. “Everyone has to add a few things when they start working here. And guess what, Ava? You're next!”

“What?”

“Normally you'd have to add ten interesting pieces of gossip,” Taylor says. “That's how many I had to do. But since you just started, we can go easy on you.”

“Yup,” says Carrie. “You only have to do five.” She hands me a notepad of hotel stationery. “Once you write them on there, we'll add them to the file.”

“But…but what am I supposed to write?” I say.

“Anything juicy,” says Carrie. “You can take the Gossip File home with you tonight and look through it for ideas, but make sure no one sees it. Especially Ellie. That woman has it in for us.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“She's always trying to get us to do extra work so she can kiss up to Mark and show him how perfect she is.” Carrie rolls her eyes. “Like this Renaissance festival thing. It was her idea, but now she wants us to dress up and put tons of work into it while she takes the credit. I bet if Ellie had her way, she'd fire us and put little robots in our places.”

Taylor laughs and starts doing jerky robot movements while I try not to look guilty. I feel like I should stand up for Ellie. I haven't known her for very long, but she seems to really care about this resort and everyone in it. Then again, admitting that Ellie is dating my dad would be like saying that I'm the boss's daughter. I don't want the other girls feeling awkward around me because of that.

I start to flip through the Gossip File, but Carrie pulls the book out of my hands. “Better hide this for now,” she says, tucking it back under the counter, behind a couple of napkin dispensers. “You can get it later.”

“So, Ava, do you have a boyfriend?” Taylor asks. My face must go bright red because she lets out a squeal. “What's his name?”

“Evan,” I say. “We…we just became official.”

“Tell us everything!” says Taylor, leaning back in one of the chairs.

As I start describing Evan in all his cuteness, I stop worrying about telling the other girls my real identity. Being Ava feels different—better—than being Rachel. Rachel doesn't hang out with older girls and talk about her boyfriend. I bet Ava wouldn't have been freaked out about kissing her boyfriend good-bye at the airport. And Ava definitely wouldn't feel awkward around her dad and his girlfriend.

Maybe living as Ava for a couple of days is exactly what I need, like a little vacation from being me.

After work, I decide it's time I take advantage of being in Florida and actually go swimming. I change into my bathing suit at Ellie's and then, armed with sunglasses and reading material, head back to the resort to hang out by one of the four interconnected pools. The humidity is so bad that I'm practically wheezing by the time I find a recliner in the shade.

I'm surprised by how empty the pool is, considering the heat. Wouldn't everyone want to be swimming?

The instant I take my flip-flops off, my feet start burning on the concrete.

“Ouch!” I cry as I prance toward the pool. When I dive in, the water is nice and warm. Well, maybe a little more than that. It's like bathwater, which, I have to admit, isn't all that refreshing in the crazy heat. I dunk my head under, hoping it'll cool me down, but when I come up for a breath, I can barely feel where the water ends and the air begins. Who knew air could feel so wet?

I halfheartedly tread water for a minute before climbing out of the almost-hot pool. So much for that idea. If only Dad were here, he'd find a way to make this fun. Last time we went to the beach, he spent part of the day wearing my pink sunglasses just to make me laugh.

I settle into a recliner and grab a memoir by the creator of Pastry Wars, my favorite cooking show, but I only get about three pages in before my sweat starts dripping onto the paper. Ew.

Defeated, I get my stuff together and head toward Ellie's. On the way, I hear a horrible screeching sound coming from behind one of the buildings. When I peer around the side, I spot a handful of resort employees playing violins and flutes and other instruments. It takes me a minute to realize that they're butchering the kind of jaunty tune you'd expect to hear at a Renaissance festival. I wonder if this is how the Pied Piper got all those rats to jump into the river. Maybe he played so badly that the rodents were willing to do anything to make the torture end.

I quickly cover my ears and hurry away. When I get back to Ellie's, I find Caleb in the kitchen making himself a sandwich.

“Aren't we going out for dinner in an hour?” I say.

He shakes his head. “Nope, it's Monday. Date night.”

“Date night?” I ask blankly.

“My mom and Teddy always go out by themselves on Mondays. It's another of her dumb traditions.”

“But…but they won't do that when I'm here, will they? I mean, I'm only in town for a couple of weeks.”

Caleb shrugs. “Good luck convincing her of that,” he says before heading back to his room.

I decide to ignore what he said and get ready for dinner. Dad wouldn't ditch me like that, would he? But when I come out all dressed and ready, sure enough, Dad and Ellie are just about to head out the door.

“Sorry, Roo,” Dad says. “I forgot to tell you that Ellie and I have plans, but Caleb said he filled you in.”

“There's some lasagna in the fridge for you,” Ellie says. “We won't be out too late.”

“But…”

“You'll be okay by yourself for an evening, right?” Dad asks.

I can't sound like a baby and say I won't be, but I can't believe he would abandon me on my second night here!

“Yeah,” I say weakly. “I'll watch Pastry Wars reruns or something.”

“We'll make it up to you tomorrow, okay?” he says. “I'll take you to see my place. I promise.”

As I watch them leave, I want to believe him, but Dad's promises are starting to feel a little hollow.

Since I've lost my appetite, I head back to my room and lock the door. Then I carefully take out the Gossip File, which I wrapped in napkins and an old apron to smuggle into Ellie's apartment.

On the first page of notes, someone wrote: “The resort seems beautiful and perfect. It's oddly comforting to know that under its flawless exterior lurk many strange secrets.” After that, the pages of notes are filled with different handwriting. Probably at least ten people have added gossip to the book. I wonder how long it's been around the café and who started it in the first place.

I flip through pages of tidbits about people I don't know. Some are disgusting: “Chandra lets little kids pee in the kiddie pool and pretends she doesn't see them.” Ick! That one is dated three years ago, but I have no intention of even looking at the kiddie pool again. Some are funny: “Alan wears socks all the time because he has an extra toe on his right foot.” And some are just bizarre: “Mark calls his wife every day to remind her to record his soap operas.”

I'm pretty sure this last one is about Ellie's boss. I never would have pegged Mark for a soap opera fan. Whoever started the Gossip File was right. It is oddly reassuring to know that a place that seems so perfect is just as flawed as I am.

Some of the gossip is pretty bad, like people cheating on their spouses, but I skim over all of that. It feels wrong to read that kind of stuff about people I don't even know.

When I start mulling over the five things I have to write down, my mind goes blank. All I can think about is what I wrote about people in the Dirt Diary that I kept at the beginning of the summer. Collecting people's secrets made me feel so slimy that I definitely don't want to do it again, but I have to write something. Carrie and Taylor can't think I'm a total wimp. Not only do they not care that I'm younger than they are, but they're also really fun to hang out with.

Maybe the stuff I write doesn't have to be bad, I realize. The part about the extra toe was gross, but it wasn't anything awful. It was just the truth. If I write down things that are true, things that wouldn't hurt anyone if people found out about them, maybe that will be okay.

I scratch my head for a minute, grab a sheet of stationery, and then take out a pencil.

The food at the café tastes like a spice factory exploded on it. There, that's true. I suck on the pencil for a minute and then add a couple of quotes that I've heard people say about the food. This might not qualify as “juicy gossip,” but it's a start.

I wake up before my alarm goes off and lie in bed listening to the air conditioner going full blast and Caleb snoring through the wall. The longer I lie here, the worse I feel. I know I shouldn't complain. I mean, after all these years of dreaming about it, I'm finally in Florida! But this trip has been one big disappointment so far.

For some reason, I start thinking about what Mom said at the airport, that this trip might help me figure out who I am. So far, all it's shown me is that I'm a total pushover. I'd rather go along with people calling me by the wrong name than correct them, and I'd let my dad's girlfriend hog all his time instead of demanding that he spend it with me.

Well, it might be too late to tell everyone I'm not Ava, but I'm not giving up on my perfect vacation just yet. I have a little over a week and a half to reconnect with Dad and make our special Disney trip happen. That should be plenty of time.

As I get out of bed, I can't help smiling as I remember Evan's and my phone conversation last night when he told me how much he missed me. And then, for some reason, he had me talk to his guitar since he claimed it missed me too. At least our relationship is one thing in my life that's finally going right.

I'm about to head off to the café when there's a knock on my bedroom door. I find Caleb standing there with a shopping bag.

“My mom's already at work, but she wanted me to give you this,” he mumbles, shoving the bag into my hand. Then he turns and stomps into the kitchen.

I dig around in the bag and pull out a yellow-and-white striped sundress. It's not exactly my style, but I could imagine Marisol loving it. I have no idea why Ellie is buying me clothes. Maybe now that she's upgraded my dad's wardrobe, she's started on me?

I tuck the Gossip File into a plastic bag so I can sneak it back to the café. Then I spread the dress out on my bed so I can try it on after work. There's no point in wearing it to the café where I'd just spill stuff all over it.

As I make my way through the resort, I pass a troupe of jugglers hanging out by the pool and a girl struggling to swing a sword that probably weighs about a hundred pounds more than she does. They all look pretty clueless and miserable.

Then I spot a man poised in front of a wooden target and pointing a bow and arrow in every direction except the right one. I quickly cover my head and flee. I don't stop running until I catch sight of Ellie on her hands and knees in front of a dead tree that's tucked away in the corner of the courtyard.

“Good morning!” she calls out when she sees me, waving me over with a watering can. “Have you met my tree yet?”

I stare at the pile of dried-out branches. “Is it, um, feeling okay?”

“It's a little under the weather right now.”

It's not the only one, I think as I fan myself with my hand. I make sure to keep the Gossip File safely tucked under my arm, still wrapped in the plastic bag, so Ellie doesn't notice it.

“I planted this tree when I first started working here at Four Palms,” she says, pouring some water near its base. “It was only a sapling then. And now look at it!”

I try not to grimace as I glance at it since Ellie clearly wants me to look impressed.

“One day, it's going to grow oranges,” she says.

I figure it's best not to point out that I'm not even sure we're looking at an orange tree. Instead, I can't help asking, “How was date night with my dad?” I don't even bother hiding the bitterness in my voice.

She lets out a soft giggle. “It was lovely! Tonight is pizza night at my place, though, so that will be fun for all of us. Make sure to wear your new dress!”

“Oh yeah, thanks for the dress,” I say. “It's cute.” I don't mention that I'm not sure it's really my style. “So we're going to your place tonight? What about having dinner at Disney?”

“You'll need to talk to your dad about that. He's in charge of the plans while you're here.”

Obviously, that's not true. Ellie is definitely the one calling the shots.

“Is my dad okay?” I can't help asking.

Ellie looks at me in surprise. “Last time I talked to him he seemed fine. Why?”

“He just hasn't been acting like himself. Dad usually jokes around all the time and he's always laughing, but ever since I've been here, he's seemed different.”

“Really?” Ellie wrinkles her forehead. “I guess he has been a little busy at work, but he seems like his normal self to me!”

“Maybe I need to spend more time with him, just me and him,” I say, hoping Ellie gets the hint. She doesn't.

“You'll have plenty of time to see him tonight,” she says. “Pizza night is always fun. Even Caleb gets into it.” She sighs. “Ever since the divorce, he's been so different. If he's not playing with that tablet of his, all he talks about is being with his dad.”

“Where does his dad live?” I ask.

“Not too far from here. But he's in Arizona on a building project right now. That's why Caleb is staying with me.”

“Oh…I thought he lived with you.”

She shakes her head. “No, no. He had a choice during the divorce, and he chose to stay with his father. I keep trying to convince him to change his mind, but no luck so far.”

Even though she's smiling, I can tell how hurt she is. I might still be annoyed with her, but I also feel a little bad for her. “When my parents split up,” I find myself saying, “I thought I wanted to go with my dad. But now I'm glad I stayed with my mom. Maybe he needs time to realize that.”

She reaches out and squeezes my elbow. “You're right. Maybe one day he can be as mature about the situation as you are, Rachel.”

I blush at the compliment. It's nice to be called mature for once. Ellie is a little intense, but maybe she's not so bad.

Before I get to the café, I grab a pencil and the pad of hotel stationery from my pocket. I hesitate for a second, not sure if I should write down what I just found out. I'm not even sure it's good enough info for the Gossip File, but it's the best I have, so I grip the pencil tightly and write, “Ellie's son doesn't live with her. He chose to live with his dad after the divorce.”

As I tuck the notes back into my pocket, I wonder if Caleb and his dad are as close as my dad and I are. Or were. Until this trip, I sometimes questioned if I'd made the right choice by staying with my mom after my parents split up. But now that I'm here, I'm starting to think that staying with Mom was the best decision I could have made.