Free Date With A Rockstar by Sarah Gagnon Page A

continues inside, with a parrot-shaped lamp next to the first bed. The room is three times the size of my apartment. In the bathroom, I pull back an orange shower curtain to reveal a bathtub with a cyclone feature. I step back out into the main room and kick off my sneakers to slowly walk the perimeter. My toes sink deep in the plush carpeting. We have a window that overlooks half of another building, a parking garage, and a quarter inch of aqua water.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” Shelley Anne asks.
    â€œThe carpet is really soft.”
    She raises her eyebrows at me. “Who do you think will have the first date tonight?”
    â€œI have no idea,” I say, pausing at the window again.
    â€œI hope it’s me. I can’t wait to kiss Jeremy.” Her voice is high with excitement and I’m glad I’m facing away so that she can’t see my grimace. If the other contestants are going to be physically affectionate, it might hurt my chances to impress the viewers.
    â€œHow can you be so sure he wants to kiss you?”
    She turns and huffs. “It’s a TV show. There’s always kissing.” Hmm. Not an encouraging thought.
    â€œHe’s a real person, you know. This isn’t just some actor.”
    â€œGeez. I didn’t mean anything by it.” She narrows her eyes in my direction. “You don’t have to be so mean. Isn’t there a chance he’d want to kiss me?”
    I lean against the window. “Sure.” There’s a chance of just about anything happening. I was only alone with him for a moment…in a bathroom. I’m not an expert, but in the interview they asked about whether or not I was sexually active because Jeremy doesn’t want to be mauled. I don’t know about the rest of the girls, but I’m going to apply that to my strategy.
    The hotel meeting room is windowless and sterile with white-washed walls and a gray formica conference table. I feel like I’ve gotten one of those dreadful secretarial jobs, until the wave of perfume hits me. The mix of strange fragrances the other girls are wearing instantly gives me a headache. I hope Jeremy isn’t smell-sensitive, because he’s in for it.
    â€œBill isn’t able to join us,” Eleanor says. “I’ll go over the important points with you and he can fill in anything I missed later.” She drags her hand through her shoulder-length graying hair. “This room will be ours for the length of our stay. Consider it the viewing room.” She pushes a button at the corner of the table and the wall behind her comes alive. “This screen will show views from the various cameras during the dates. Unfortunately, the audio from the personal mics will be dubbed in later, so you’ll only have the visual. Of course, you don’t have to watch, but as I said, the room will be open.”
    I stare at the blank screen and then across the table. All of us are staring, contemplating being watched every moment of our date. Not a romantic thought.
    â€œHere is the list of dates.” She sets a sheet of paper in the center of the table and everyone grabs for it. Praline wins, clutching the edge of the paper. The rest of us form a circle behind her, trying to see our names.
    Claire—Dance Club
    Monet—Beach
    Praline—Emperor Exhibit
    I can’t read anymore. I’m number two and I’m going to the beach. My luck is gone. I don’t own a bathing suit. I have practically no money and I can’t swim. I don’t have a chance.
    Shelley Anne squeals. “I get to go canoeing!” She sways on her feet, a dreamy expression filling up her face. “Imagine me in a little boat with Jeremy.”
    Praline taps Eleanor on the shoulder, trying to figure out what hers means. Now that the list is free, I read over the rest. There it is,
4. Shelley Anne-Canoeing.
I assume the formal names are restaurants. And because I can’t help it, I scan