"So I guess this is really it," Addison said after hugging the three of us at least six times each. Hallie's parents had

put out a celebratory spread of clam strips, lobster rolls,

and assorted finger foods in Addison's honor. They were thrilled to have Hallie off the show, as I think both my parents and Keiran's were. We never gave them all the details of what

went down, but they knew enough to know all the college money in the world wasn't worth their daughters' lack of privacy or the lies.

"It's not really goodbye," Hallie told her and us. "We'll talk to you on Facebook and e-mail, and I'm sure we'll trek into Manhattan over the summer. I really want to see Jersey Boys."

Addison laughed. "Maybe I'll go with you. I haven't seen the show either."

Addison looked at me and smiled. I think we both knew that even though we claimed we were going to stay in touch, we probably weren't. What did we have in common other than the traumatic experience of the show? Too much had happened between us. Even though Addison was apologetic about doing Susan's dirty work, she still did it. She was still our boss. Does anyone have that much in common with their boss? I like Ryan well enough, but I don't think I'd invite him to my parents' clambake on July fourth.

"I guess I should get going," Addison told us. "My train is going to be here in fifteen minutes."

"Actually it's more like twenty to twenty-five minutes,"

I joked. "The Long Island Rail Road is never on time."

Addison laughed. "Still, just in case. If I miss it, the next train doesn't come for another two hours."

I gave her one last hug. "Thanks, Addison. For everything," I tell her. "We couldn't have pulled this off without you."

"I'm the one who should be thanking you," she said softly. "You got me out of a potentially life-ruining career." She looked at me. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

I nodded. "You too."

We walked Addison to the train station, which is only feet from the main drag in town, and waved till her train rolled away (ten minutes late, I might add).

A few days later, we read on the Fire and Ice website that The Cliffs was going to continue on without us. They had changed the name to The Cliffs: New Beginnings. Brooke was the new lead and Marleyna her trusty sidekick. They planned on taping new episodes all summer long and the rumor at school was that Brooke wouldn't be coming back for senior year. She and Marleyna were going to have a set tutor so they could devote more time to taping.

The news was sort of a relief to me. When we saw Brooke in the halls, we usually went in the opposite direction and she did the same whenever we were around. As much as we weren't giving each other nasty looks anymore, seeing Brooke every day at school still made me sad. I'll always wonder if her allegiance to Marleyna would have happened if we'd never agreed to do the show.

With Brooke finally getting her star turn, our contract kaput, and Addison back in New York, the rest of life went back to normal. Well, as normal as life can get after you've exposed your secrets to the world and on TV. Cliffside Heights did several stories. One was about Keiran's, Hallie's, and my exit, another was an interview with Brooke about what she was calling a "spin-off," and the third was an editorial on reality television in general. Ms. Neiman wanted me to write it, but I didn't have the heart.

But forget the show. I'm sure what everyone really wants to know is what happened with Zac.

A few days after the live episode, when things had calmed down just slightly, I asked him to meet me at Milk and Sugar so I could explain everything. After facing Susan, talking to Zac should have been a snap. But knowing the way Zac felt about me made me feel all tangled up inside.

"Hey," he said, sneaking up on me. I was so freaked out I dropped the iced latte I was making and the ice and milk spilled all over the floor.

"Hi," I said awkwardly. "I've got to clean this up." I dropped to the floor. Ryan raced to my aid and I glared at him menacingly. "You were supposed to warn me," I hissed.

Ryan gave me a crooked grin. "Talk to the boy," he whispered. "Is that so hard?"

"Yes," I said, and threw the wet, milk-stained kitchen towel at his face. I heard Zac clear his throat and I slowly stood up. "Hey."

Zac smiled. "Hey."

We stared at each other awkwardly. Not a word popped into my head. I couldn't ask him about the last newspaper meeting because I was there. And it seemed lame to bring up the weather or the history exam we had that week. He was close enough now, just the counter between us, that I could touch him if I reached out my hand. He smelled like Downy, just as I remembered, and I inhaled deeply.

"Ready to spill all the dirty details about your escape from TV prison?" he said with a wry grin.

I stopped breathing in his heavenly scent and smiled. Leave it to Zac to put me at ease.

"I wanted to call and congratulate you on the breakout," Zac added with a sly grin. "But I figured between Barbara Walters and People, my Cliffside Heights press badge wouldn't hold up."

"I'm sorry it took me a few days to call you," I apologized.

"You had a lot going on. I watched the show," Zac said. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

Then I gave Zac the short version of events-from our breakup with Brooke, to the truth about Addison, to Susan's puppet-mastering. He already knew about Brooke's so-called spin-off. Okay, so my talk wasn't that short, but Zac listened the whole time, never once interrupting until the very end.

"So," Zac said when I was finally finished, "if you wanted off the show, and I was willing to go on the show, and there is no more show, is there a reason why we're still not together?"

I wasn't sure what to say to that. Together? As in dating? As in boyfriend and girlfriend? Zac said he liked me, but I guess the boyfriend part of the equation wasn't something I had dared hope for. "I don't know," I said lamely.

Zac moved around the counter and I stood as still as a statue. My face started to feel hot. "Do you want to be together?" he asked softly.

All I could manage was a nod. And then, not thinking, I fell into his chest and buried myself there. Zac wrapped his arms around me. "The show we were doing wasn't real at all. What happened to reality TV being reality TV ?"

"I don't think it ever was reality TV," Zac said with a small smile. "Fame does funny things to people. They think they're being honest and truthful, but you can't ignore the camera staring at your face. People start to change. They crave the stardom and they'll do anything they can to keep it. Think Paris and Nicole. Pauly D. and Snooki. The list goes on. That's what Brooke and Marleyna are doing, aren't they?"

His arms were still around me and mine around him and I didn't want to let go. Instead I continued to gaze up at him. He's a few inches taller than me, which I really like. "I thought you hated reality shows," I tease. "How do you know who Paris and Nicole are?"

He chuckled. "I don't live under a rock, you know. Those two are annoyingly everywhere."

"I'm happy to report, I won't be," I said. "I feel so

stupid," I told his wonderfully smelling green shirt. "I was so embarrassed. I took this show for the money and it turned out to be a nightmare, and then I gave up you for the show, went on a fake date, and blew my chance with you."

"Is that how you think it all went?" Zac's muffled voice traveled to my ear. "I told you. Charlie, show or no show, I missed you. I missed joking around with you. I knew I'd rather be with you than without you. That's why I came back."

I look up. "I'm glad you did. And I'm glad we didn't have to date on camera," I admit. "At least I got something out of this whole experience. I may not have made enough money for four years of college, but I definitely have a good chunk saved. But that's still a huge price to pay for losing one of my best friends."

"What happened with Brooke really bites." He rubbed my back. I couldn't stop thinking about his hands, his smell, his everything. My pulse began to race. "Thankfully, you still have Hallie and Keiran. And me," he added, his face questioning. "Is there anything I can do to make this all better?"

"I don't know," I said, feeling short of breath.

"How about this?" Zac said, and then before I could react, he was tilting my chin up and his lips were planted on mine. And that helped me forget about everything that happened, if only for a few minutes.

And now, well, things are pretty great. Zac and I are officially

seeing each other. Keiran and her mom worked out a babysitting schedule that nixes weekends so that she can have a life, and Hallie is seeing a cute college freshman who just came home for the summer and is working the dock at the Crab Shack. School is officially out in a week, and the three of us can't wait.

"I'm not working this summer," Hallie says as she bites into the ice cream cone we just got at Licks in town. "I think I've worked hard enough this spring, don't you?"

"You're not working at the Crab Shack?" I ask.

"I mean, except for there," Hallie clarifies with a laugh. "I keep thinking we have this crazy shooting schedule and we don't anymore. We're free."

"We deserve a little break, don't you think?" Keiran asks, licking her Rocky Road. "I was talking to my mom and she said she wants to take us up to Rhode Island for a week in July. She said we could use some R&R."

"I'm in," I agree. "I need to rest. I'm still having that nightmare where I'm being videotaped in bed."

"Still?" Hallie asks. "You've got to get over it."

"I know." I laugh. "But it's hard to stop thinking about cameras taping your every move. I'm constantly on alert."

"Even with Zac?" Keiran teases.

I make a face. "Okay, not with Zac. He's the only one who can take my mind off everything and anything."

The three of us stop talking at the same time. I can hear loud music coming from somewhere nearby. It's dusk and it's tough to see, but I look through one of the alleyways and see the pier next to the Crab Shack is packed. The three of us look at each other and start walking toward the commotion. Keiran puts her arm out to stop us.

"Guys, look," she says sounding amused.

There on the dock are Brooke and Marleyna in the middle of a big party, dancing their hearts out. They're surrounded by people I've never seen before and about two feet behind them is a camera guy. A twenty-something dude standing nearby has a headset and a clipboard. He must be the new Addison. There's a long line of people waiting to get on the pier to get into the taping.

"Thank God that is not us." Hallie shudders.

The three of us creep away, the same way we came, and head down a different street where things are much quieter and the only music you can hear is the sound of crickets. We walk along in silence, enjoying the warm night air. Suddenly I stop short.

"What?" Hallie asks, alarmed. "Do you hear something?"

I shake my head and smile. "Nope."

"Then why'd you stop?" Keiran asks.

I grin. "I just realized we're alone. Completely alone."

"Feels good not to be mic'd, doesn't it?" Hallie grins.

She laughs and before long Keiran and I join her. The sound is loud and infectious, but for once, no one but the crickets is around to hear us. Which is just the way it should be.

Acknowledgments.

Thanks, first and foremost, to my amazing editors Cindy Eagan and Kate Sullivan, who were so quick to jump on board with Reality Check. I'm so fortunate to work with such talented, dedicated, and supportive editors. Not that I'm surprised. The entire Poppy team-including Ames O'Neill, Melanie Chang, Andrew Smith, Lisa Ickowicz, Melanie Sanders, and Erin McMahon-are amazing. Huge gratitude also goes to my agent, Laura Dail, who champions my every word and thought, and to Tamar Rydinski, who patiently walks me through all my foreign affairs. Mara Reinstein, as always, served as my unofficial sounding board and first reader, and I'm so thankful for her input. To my family and friends (especially my mom/babysitter, Lynn Calonita, without whom this book never could have gotten finished), thank you for all your love and support.

Finally, to my wonderful family-my husband, Mike, my sons Tyler and Dylan, and my lap warmer, our Chihuahua, Jack-the sign hanging in our hallway is true: There really is no place like home.

Secrets of My Hollywood Life novels by Jen Calonita:.

Secrets of My Hollywood Life.

On Location.