City Secrets (14 page)

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Authors: Jessica Burkhart

BOOK: City Secrets
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“We're fine, Dad,” Heather said. Tension was inching into her voice. “We're both on the same team and it wouldn't benefit either of us to work against the other.”

Mr. Fox stared at both of us for several looong seconds before he nodded. “All right. But I don't want any reports from Mr. Conner when you return to school that your riding is not up to par. Understood?”

Mr. Fox was speaking to Heather, but I found myself nodding along with her.

“Okay, Dad,” Heather said.

Mr. Fox stepped around us and headed for the door.

Blowing out a breath of relief, I followed Heather down the hallway, and without saying a word, we went to our rooms.

 11 
SUGAR HIGH

AFTER BREAKFAST ON TUESDAY MORNING Heather pushed back her chair and motioned for me to get up.

“What?” I asked.

“We're not going riding today. My parents already left, so they'll never know.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “I don't want to get caught.”

Heather smoothed her royal purple v-neck tee. “We won't get in trouble. Relax. Since you're here with a
real
New Yorker, I thought you needed to see the best parts of the city.”

I opened my mouth to defend Paige, since Heather knew I'd stayed in the city with her and Paige was a “real New Yorker” too, but I stopped myself.

“That sounds really fun,” I said. “It'll be cool to have you show me around. Thanks.”

Heather snorted. “Please. Don't get all soap opera-y on me. I just don't want to go riding, and all of the places I'm taking you are spots I haven't been to in a while and have wanted to visit.”

“Okay,” I said. “Let me grab my purse.”

“And not that you would,” Heather called after me, “but don't wear heels. You're going to want comfortable shoes to walk around in.”

I didn't bother responding to her comment. Instead I walked into the guest room and grabbed my black flip-flops and my purse. I passed the full-length mirror and checked my reflection. If we were going out in the city, I wanted to look good. Maybe I'd run into a celebrity!

My dark-wash jeans looked good with my pale pink keyhole top. I'd straightened my hair this morning, and so far it hadn't gotten wavy. The tiny amount of makeup I'd applied earlier—concealer, mascara, and blush—was still in place.

I grabbed my purse off the bed and reached for my phone on the nightstand.

The red light was blinking, which meant I had a message. I flipped open my phone and saw one new text.
I opened the message.
Sasha, I'm so, so sry. Pls call me? Or txt me. I just want to talk. ~Paige

I stared at the message for a few seconds before I deleted it and shoved my phone into my purse. Heather and I were going out exploring today—I didn't have time to call or text Paige back right now.

When we got into the waiting car, Paul already seemed to know where to go.

“So are you going to tell me where we're going or are you going to blindfold me till we get there?” I asked.

“Knew I forgot something,” Heather said. “Whatev, I'll tell you. We're going to Rockefeller Center,” Heather said. “Did you go there with Paige?”

“Uh, no,” I said, caught off guard. “We meant to, but we didn't have time.”

“Good. Then you'll get to see it right. It's always busy, but it shouldn't be ridiculous with a zillion people, like it is during the holidays.”

“That would be annoying.”

“It
is
. The tourists take pictures of everything, and you can't move. Police try to direct them across the streets because they don't understand how the street signs work, but you always hear on the news about someone getting hit by a taxi or something.”

“Whoa,” I said. “Now I'm definitely glad it's not Christmas or anything.”

Heather nodded. “I mean, the tree and the lights are gorgeous, but it's just a mass of swarming people. Ugh.” She grinned. “I think every New Yorker who has to work near Rock Center probably throws a party when the holidays
end
.”

I laughed. “Probably. They're taking back their city.”

It took Paul less than ten minutes to reach Rock Center. “We're going to walk around for a while,” Heather said. “I want to show Sasha a bunch of shops and stuff. Can you meet us back here in a couple of hours?”

Paul nodded. “Sure thing. Be safe and call me if you need anything.”

Heather got out of the car and I followed her. I looked up and saw NBC's Today Show studio. The actual studio I saw on TV! The walls were glass, and a giant ticker with red letters scrolled the latest headline news. Heather and I walked closer and stopped, peering through the glass. Inside they were filming and I recognized one of my favorite anchors.

“This is so cool!” I said. It looked
so
different on TV. The actual studio was filled with hundreds of carefully positioned lights, and a maze of wires was taped to the
floor. Heather and I watched as the anchors discussed the morning's news and read their lines from giant cue cards and a teleprompter.

“It's kind of surreal to see people you watch on TV in person,” Heather said. “The first time I walked by the studio, it was
nothing
like I expected. I guess I only thought I'd see the set I was used to seeing from my TV screen. I didn't think about the camera crew, sound guys, and all of the lighting.”

“I definitely didn't expect to see any of that,” I said.

We left the Today Show studio and Heather pointed down over a railing. “That's where the ice rink is set up for the winter. It'll probably open in a month or two, depending on the weather.”

I looked around at the various statues that were placed around the space. There were so many things to look at—it was almost dizzying.

“You have to see the concourse next,” Heather said.

“What's that?” I asked.

“You'll see,” Heather said.

Heather and I walked through a light crowd and took steps downstairs.

“So there are a bunch of subway train lines down here—not that I'd use them,” Heather said. “We're at
Forty-seventh Street at Rock Center. But if you don't keep going downstairs to the trains, it's beyond awesome.”

We stopped in front of ATM machines and Heather pointed. “There's a book publisher that way. But if we go left, we'll start hitting the shops.”

“I'm just stuck on the fact that there's an underground shopping center,” I said. “This would be the place to shop and eat during gross days.”

“Definitely,” Heather said.

We walked past a Starbucks with a Subway across from it. A few policemen patrolled the area, and as soon as we got away from the subway entrances and exits, it got quieter. And as we kept walking, I almost couldn't believe something this cool existed underground. It felt like one of those things you'd want to keep secret and not tell anyone else about.

“Back there,” Heather said, pointing, “are banks and a few other businesses.”

We entered another section of the concourse. In front of us was a Hallmark store that looked packed. Maybe everyone was getting cards to send home to share details about their NYC trip.

And the stores were endless. We passed a vitamin store, a drugstore, and at least a dozen restaurants. One looked
particularly cool—it was called Just Salad and the people in line gave instructions to the employees about how they wanted their salads. They took their trays through different stations, and when they reached the last section, their salad bowl was taken. The lettuce and other veggies were chopped, and then the salad was tossed with the person's choice of dressing.

We kept walking and weaved through the concourse.

“Will we be able to find our way out?” I joked. “This place is huge.”

“Look at that,” Heather said. She pointed to an exit sign. “How convenient.”

We took the stairs out of the concourse and ended up back near where the ice rink would have been if we'd been here during winter.

“And the tree is set up right here too,” Heather said. “That's when it gets
really
crazy with tourists. Like, they should be banned-from-the-city crazy.”

I grinned. “Good luck with that ever happening.”

We passed a giant Nintendo store and I saw tons of kids and teens inside playing games on the giant TV screens and carrying around Nintendo memorabilia.
Jacob would love that,
I thought. I'd never be able to drag him out of the store.

“Did you see that restaurant we passed called Channel Four?” Heather asked.

“Yeah, it looked cool,” I said.

“Everyone calls it C-Four,” Heather said. “It's a place where lots of people who work in book publishing, TV, or other businesses in Rock Center come for lunch or dinner. They have the
best
chili ever there.”

“Mmm,” I said.

“It's almost time for Paul to pick us up,” Heather said. “But I wanted you to see one more thing.”

We walked a few more blocks and I saw lights that were bright even in the daylight.


That
is so awesome,” I said.

Two vertical signs with the hall's name stretched up, and a horizontal banner was lit up with
RADIO CITY MUSIC HALL
. Just being in the city gave me a different energy.

In that moment, it started to hit me where I was. I was in New York City, standing in front of
the
Radio City Music Hall.

“Paul's over there,” Heather said, tugging on my forearm. “We've got somewhere even cooler to go.”

We walked to the car and I couldn't imagine anything more amazing than everything I'd just seen.

“Hi, Paul,” Heather said when we got in the car. “We'd like to go to Dylan's, please.”

“Wonderful,” Paul said. “I think Sasha will enjoy that.”

“I was going to take you to Times Square, but I figured that Paige had to have at least taken you, right?” Heather asked.

“Yeah, we did go there,” I said.

“Good 'cause the place we're going is waaay better than insane Times Square,” Heather said.

“What
is
Dylan's?” I asked. “I've never heard of it. Is it a clothing store or something?”

“Not even close,” Heather said. “Just wait.”

Paul pulled up to the curb, and Heather told him she'd text him when we were almost done.

We got out of the car and I looked around for a Dylan's sign.

“This way,” Heather said. I followed her and we came up to a store with a front made entirely of glass. Colors radiated from inside and I looked at the black sign above the door.
DYLAN'S CANDY BAR
.

I looked at Heather. “Are you kidding me?”

Heather grinned, proud of herself. “They've got more than five thousand different kinds of candy.”

“Oh. My. God. Why are we standing out here?!”

Laughing, Heather and I opened the door and stepped inside.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
was one of my favorite books, and now it felt like I'd stepped into a page from the novel. I smelled so many kinds of chocolates, gummy bears, mints, and other scents that I couldn't distinguish one candy from the next.

The displays showing off oversize lollipops and giant chocolate bars were whimsical and colorful. The entire store was an explosion of color. Giant plastic jelly beans and candy bars hung above displays.

I saw dozens of plastic bins—each held one color of M&M's. Other bins held candies I'd never seen. I couldn't stop wandering. A wall was filled with Pez dispensers and every possible flavor of Pez.

I walked down an aisle that had displays of traditional candies—Snickers, Mr. Goodbar, Twix, and a zillion others—and it took all my strength not to grab a bag and fill it with candy.

“Come see this,” Heather called, waving at me from a couple of aisles over.

I weaved through an aisle containing nothing but gummies and stood next to Heather. We both peered up at a glass case. Behind the case, black stars on white
paper made the glass box look even cooler.

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