Drama Read online

  Green with envy…

  “It’s not all that easy being on camera all the time,” Logan told her.

  “And it’s not easy doing chores,” she replied.

  “At least you don’t have people watching you all the time,” he said.

  “At least you don’t have to shovel horse manure,” she shot back.

  “Really, Becca?” he asked. “Have you seen our show? Some of those lines…”

  After half a second of shocked silence, she laughed. “You win. Come on.” She held out her hand. “Let’s go jump some more.”

  I shook my head. Figures. Another Logan groupie. Although I had to admit, he handled Becca’s attitude much better than I did. I had to give him credit for that. But it didn’t mean I wasn’t just the slightest bit jealous.

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  LIGHTS, CAMERA,

  CASSIDY

  episode four:

  Drama

  by LINDA GERBER

  PUFFIN BOOKS

  An Imprint of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  PUFFIN BOOKS

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Young Readers Group, 345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, U.S.A.

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4P 2Y3 (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd)

  Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd)

  Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi - 110 017, India

  Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd)

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Published by Puffin Books, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 2012

  1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

  Copyright © Linda Gerber, 2012

  All rights reserved

  LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA IS AVAILABLE

  ISBN: 978-1-101-59059-1

  Interior designed by Theresa Evangelista

  Text set in Adobe Caslon regular

  Printed in the United States of America

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  ALWAYS LEARNING

  PEARSON

  For Mom and Dad

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thanks to all the super amazing people who helped to bring this book to life: to my agent, Elaine Spencer, for cracking the whip; to my editor, Kristin Gilson, for dragging a better story out of me; to designer Theresa Evangelista for giving Cassidy covers to be proud of; to the entire Puffin sales and marketing team for getting the books onto the shelves; and to Rhett Ngawaka and June Teller for all things Aussie. Thank you!

  Table of Contents

  1

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  3

  4

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  8

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  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  Epilogue

  I used to think that “breathtaking” was a lame way to describe something. “Trite” is what my tutor Victoria would say. Cliché. But my first glimpse of the Australian high country changed all that. When I slipped out the door of our rented bunkhouse to see the mountains painted rose and peach with the sunrise, I’m pretty sure I forgot to breathe.

  It had been dark by the time we rolled in to the Back of Beyond ranch the night before, so I hadn’t seen the mountains then. (And to be honest, after the long flight into Melbourne—over thirty hours!—the last thing I was thinking about when we got to the ranch was checking out the scenery. All I wanted to do was to take a shower and go to sleep.) But now…

  I cringed at every squeak of the weathered boards as I tiptoed off the front porch. Mom and Dad were still sleeping inside, and I didn’t want to wake them. They always say the best way to deal with jet lag is to sleep it off, and maybe they’re right. But there’s no way I was going to lie around in bed on my first morning in Australia. We had less than a week at the ranch, and I didn’t want to miss a moment of it. Besides, Logan was supposed to meet me out front to watch the sunrise, and I have to admit, that was an even bigger draw.

  Logan’s my best friend in the entire world. I also happen to have a crush on him. That might be a little weird, when you consider that the two of us practically grew up together, but what can I say? I couldn’t help it.

  His dad is the executive producer of When in Rome—my mom and dad’s travel show—so Logan and I both traveled around with our parents when we were little. We used to hang out while the show was filming, and we became best friends…until he left us to stay with his mom in Ireland for a couple of years and I never heard from him. At all.

  Then, when we were filming in Spain, he returned to the show, and we picked up where we left off. Kind of. We were still friends, but things between us had changed. Mostly because I realized I liked him. I mean, really liked him. And that’s when everything got weird.

  The problem was, I didn’t know if Logan liked me back. I was pretty sure he did. He was super sweet (when he wasn’t teasing me). We almost kissed a couple of times. (Okay, I almost kissed him.) And he gave me a tree frog charm from Costa Rica to go on my charm necklace, which I had to take as a good sign. But I wanted to know he liked me, and I just didn’t.

  Probably because we never get to see each other for more than a week or two at a time, when we’re filming a show somewhere. Did I mention that Logan and I started doing our own travel show together? Well, not really a “show,” but while my mom and dad are filming When in Rome, Logan and I do a series of corresponding minisodes for a kids’ network. Which is awesome, because it guarantees we get to spend most of our time on location together, but it also means we’ve got cameras following us around, so we have to be careful what we say and what we do. And then, as soon as the episodes are in the can, the show takes a break for another few weeks and everyone splits up again, and we’re back to square one.

  Usually, I go stay at my gramma’s house in Ohio, and Logan goes back to Ireland. We text and Skype each other, but it’s not the same as talking in person. It’s kind of hard to get close to someone when you’re oceans apart.

  So I decided I was going to spend every possible minute with Logan on this trip. But so far, he wasn’t cooperating. I pulled out my phone to check the time as the sun began to send pink streaks through the purple sky. Where was he? He was going to miss it!

  Behind me, a neat row of small, rustic bunkhouses sat dark and silent. Since I had fallen asleep before Logan and his dad had arrived the night before, I wasn’t sure which one was theirs. Not that it would have helped much if I did; I wouldn’t dare go tap on his door to wake Logan up because it would probably wake Cavin—his dad—as well. Cavin wouldn’t like me being up and out in the “wee hours” any more than my parents would. (I made the mistake one time of slipping out of our apartment in Spain, and it turned into a major ordeal—especially for him since he’s the executive producer. Of course, he did milk it for all the publicity we could get, but still.)

  I hugged my arms in the morning chill and tried to shake off the disappointment that Logan had slept in and missed our plan. Maybe it was better this way. Then he wouldn’t have to see me for the first time on this trip in my pajama pants and Wicked T-shirt (I wore it in honor of us being in Australia. You know, they sometimes call it Oz. Never mind.) The point is, this way I could take some time getting ready. Fix my hair. Maybe even put on some lip gloss. I sighed, wandered away from the bunkhouses, and sank onto an old tree stump to watch the sun come up. Alone.

  There would be other mornings—five to be exact—for Logan to watch it with me.

  He might even hold my hand.

  Or not.

  Logan obviously wasn’t as excited as I was to spend time together. Maybe he didn’t like me the way I liked him.

  I sighed and pushed myself up off the tree tr
unk, brushing the seat of my pajama bottoms to make sure I didn’t have any leaves or twigs stuck to my butt.

  Behind me, someone laughed. I smiled and spun around to give Logan a hug. He had woken up after all!

  Only it wasn’t Logan. A different boy stood in the yard, grinning at me.

  “You missed a spot,” he said.

  Travel tip: Australians are very down to earth and have a healthy sense of humor.

  My mouth was moving. I could feel it opening and closing, but no words came out. Which is actually a good thing, because I probably wouldn’t have been able to come up with anything intelligent to say. All I could think was that I was standing there in my pajamas, staring at a boy I didn’t know. A very cute boy, to be exact.

  “Riley Calder,” he said, stretching out a hand.

  Calder. Of course. His dad owned the place. Mr. Calder had come to the airport the night before to pick us up. Riley looked like him, with the same blue eyes—soft and light, like a favorite pair of faded jeans. They went really nicely with his tanned skin and the wheat-blond hair that swept across his forehead and hung just the slightest bit below his ears.

  “And you are—?” he prompted.

  “Oh!” I grabbed his hand and shook it. “Cassidy. Cassidy Barnett.”

  “Barnett,” he repeated. He thought for a moment. “You the movie star, yeah?”

  “Television,” I corrected, and then quickly added, “but not a star! I’m just…on TV.”

  He squinted into the sunlight that was now angling down on us, and scratched at the back of his neck. “Right. On the telly. With that Irish bloke.”

  I kicked at the dirt. “Logan,” I said.

  “Yeah. You two doin’ your show up here, then?”

  I nodded.

  “Bonza.” He was smiling at me, but I couldn’t help noticing that his eyes kept straying toward a couple of the big outbuildings down the hill. Like he needed to leave. Only I didn’t want him to go just yet; after being stood up by Logan, it was nice to have some company. Plus, his being cute didn’t hurt.

  I tried to think of something to say that would convince him to hang around, but all I could come up with was, “Do you know what time it is?”

  He didn’t even have to check his watch. “’Bout five thirty,” he said.

  “Oh.”

  Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why couldn’t anything clever ever come out of my mouth?

  “Well…” He took a step back. “I’ll see ya around.”

  “Oh,” I said again. Jeez, now I was repeating myself. “Places to be at five thirty in the morning, huh?” Again, not so clever. I’ve lived on a farm, so I know chores start early when there are animals to be taken care of. But it made him stop. And smile.

  “Yeah, and if I don’t get there soon, Mum will be fair cheesed off, so—”

  “Oy! What you doing?” A girl in boots and cutoffs stalked toward us, pulling on a pair of well-worn leather work gloves. “If you think I’m hauling feed myself, you’re insane.”

  “Becca,” Riley said to me. “My sister.”

  I would have guessed it, even if he hadn’t told me. She had his wheat-colored hair and her eyes were the same faded-denim blue—although where his were relaxed and comfortable, hers flashed cold as they flicked over me. “Who’s the sheila?”

  Riley hesitated, and I guessed he had forgotten my name, so I jumped in to introduce myself. “Cassidy Barnett.” Out of habit, I reached out to shake Becca’s hand. She folded her arms and stared me down, so I let my hand fall to my side.

  “She’s with that show,” Riley offered, “the one filming on the property this week.”

  Her left eyebrow twitched, and she gave me one last hard look before turning to Riley. “Cool story. Now come on. Let’s go.”

  Riley shrugged apologetically. “Good meetin’ ya.” He turned to follow Becca.

  “I could help,” I said quickly, “with the chores, I mean.”

  Becca glanced back over her shoulder and smirked. “Oh, you will, don’t worry.”

  Riley just smiled. “Later, Hollywood.”

  He jogged to catch up with his sister before I could even wave good-bye.

  Hugging my arms, I watched them go. I didn’t have to wonder too much what Becca meant; the Back of Beyond was Australia’s version of what my dad called a “dude ranch,” which back in the States is a place where city people can go to pretend they’re cowboys. While we were at the Calders’ ranch, the whole When in Rome crew would be doing the cowboy thing, Australian style. We’d also be going camping in the outback, which could qualify as a cowboy thing, I supposed. I was pretty sure I’d be doing plenty of chores in the days to come. And I could guess that if Becca had her way, they’d be the dirtiest, stinkiest chores she could find.

  “Who was that?”

  My stomach did a little somersault, and I turned. Logan.

  Seeing him again after so many weeks was like drinking a cool glass of water after a long, hot hike. I started to sigh, caught myself, and turned it into a cough.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  I couldn’t hide my smile. How cute was it that he could be concerned about me when he was barely even awake? His eyes still looked sleepy, and his bed-head hair made him look like a little boy. It was so adorable; I had to stifle another sigh. “Yeah, I’m good.”

  “Who were you talking to?” Logan asked again.

  I told him about Riley and Becca. “They own the ranch. Or at least, their parents do.”

  Logan glanced down the trail, but they must have already ducked into the stables. “Why are they up so early? Why are you up so early?”

  My smile fell away. Maybe he didn’t just sleep in. Maybe he forgot he had promised to meet me. “I wanted to watch the sunrise,” I said weakly. “Don’t you re—”

  “Hey! Morning!”

  I didn’t even have to look to know the voice belonged to Bayani, the show’s fixer. Sure enough, when I turned around, there he was walking toward us, tugging at the hem of his shirt. His black hair was wet and combed straight back. By midmorning, it would be flopping into his eyes as usual.

  “Early start?” I asked him. As the fixer, Bayani’s in charge of making all the logistical arrangements for the show, like setting up locations for our shoots. Which means he usually has to check things out ahead of time.

  “Always an early start,” he said, giving Logan and then me a fist bump by way of greeting. “And what are you two up to, hmm?” He waggled his eyebrows, and my face instantly combusted.

  “Watching the sunrise,” I said, at the same time as Logan said, “Couldn’t sleep.”

  “You’ll want to get your stories straight,” Bayani said, “before the parental units start asking questions.” He added another eyebrow wag and danced out of the way as I took a swipe at him.

  “Good thing you’re up and moving anyway,” he said when he was done laughing. “We’re meeting at the mess hall for breakfast at seven. Don’t be late or you’ll be fighting for a spot at the trough. There’ll be two other groups to elbow out of the way.”

  “Wait. We’re eating with them?” Mom and Dad had said there would be other groups at the ranch while we were there. I just didn’t know we’d be getting up close and personal with them. Not that I mind sharing the space. It just makes the whole cameras-in-your-face thing kind of awkward when there are people around to watch.

  “Not exactly with them—we’ve got our own tables. But yeah, most of our mealtimes overlap. I could ask the concierge to sneak you in the private entrance if you’re uncomfortable, though.”

  I started to ask him where the private entrance was before I realized he was joking.

  Chuckling, Bayani walked off, no doubt feeling very clever. He left Logan and me standing uncomfortably, our conversation dead.

  “Well,” Logan said finally, “I guess I should—”

  “Wait.” I reached for his arm but stopped short of grabbing it. “Remember when we were texting last week and you said—”

  “Well, here’s a surprise.”

  What now? I turned around to find Daniel, our makeup guy, walking up the path in a pair of running pants, big dark circles of sweat under the arms of his gray T-shirt.

  “What’s a surprise?” Logan asked.

  “You two,” Daniel said, gesturing at us. “Up before the dawn. Have you not heard of beauty sleep?”

  “You’re up,” Logan pointed out.

  “Yes, but I won’t have a camera trained on my face all day.” Daniel turned to me. “Speaking of, you might like to try this new skin-care line I picked up at the trade show in New York. It’ll help those little bumps you’ve got starting along your jawline. We want to head off even the threat of acne before—”