Disclaimer: I don't own the Babysitters' Club. Ann M. Martin does.

I took my sunglasses off of my face as I approached the hotel and placed them on top of my head. I ran my fingers through my loose, dark brown curls before entering my hotel (The Hilton) to make sure my hair hadn't gotten messed up by being outside. Inside the hotel, I passed by the teenage girl at the candy stand and made my way toward the elevator.

"Level four, please," I told a girl with black hair who looked to be about twelve that was also in the elevator.

"Sure," she replied, punching in the button before looking up at me. Her eyes grew wide before her mouth broke into an even wider smiler. "You're the girl on the magazines." she said it as a statement rather than as a question.

The magazines? What magazines? "No, you must be mistaken. I would know if I was on the cover of any magazines."

"Ding!" The elevator stopped, admitting two teenagers: a boy and a girl (both with blonde hair) who looked to be brother and sister. Upon seeing me, they started to whisper.

The girl with black hair turned back to me, "But you look exactly like the girl that was on all the magazines kissing Jordan Pike."

I could feel the coloring flushing out of my face, my heart felt like it was going to spring out of my chest, and thousands of butterflies suddenly started flying around in my stomach. Plus, Jordan probably didn't even know about the picture yet, it was only ten o'clock in the morning, and he was probably just getting up since he had two three-hour concerts last night: one at nine o'clock and one at midnight (his band was performing a midnight concert to celabrate the end of the school year and the beginning of summer). I guess I should call him and let him know what's going after he's had time to take a shower, but how did the paparazzi get that picture anyway? We were backstage in a small, dark room the whole time, and I didn't hear any cameras clicking.

The elevator stopped on level four just as the three teenagers looked like they were about to start interrogating me. I left the elevator and started towards the room that I was staying in with my parents as fast as my legs would carry me.

"Charlotte? Are you okay?" My mom asked as I closed and locked the door behind me.

How am I going to explain this? My mom doesn't even know that Jordan and I are dating."Charlotte?" My dad asked, sounding concerned.

"Well," I began, "what would you say if I told you that I'm dating Jordan Pike and that the paparazzi caught us kissing last night and posted it all over the tabloids?"

"But honey," Mom began, "Dee told me that Jordan' been on tour since September. That's nine months! You would've had to start dating him before he left."

"We've been dating for a little over a year," I told my parents. My mom looked shocked that she hadn't figured this out before, and my dad looked like I had punched him in the face.

"What do you mean you've been dating for a year?! You're only fourteen years old now! I thought we agreed that you aren't allowed to date until after you get married!"

"Dad," I said calmly, "I know you don't like me dating, but I'm growing up now. Anyway, that's why I've kept it a secret for so long. I knew you two wouldn't want me dating."

Mom sighed. "I'm glad that you've finally told us. Anyway, I think we should focus on the bigger issue here. What are we going to do about the paparazzi?"

At this point, my parents started talking amongst themselves. I put my hair in a pony tail, and walked out of the hotel room to go take a look at the magazines. Luckily, no one was in the elevator this time, and the three teenagers I had seen earlier were nowhere to be seen on the ground floor. I saw the magazines on the candy stand I had passed by earlier and bought three of them. I flipped open the first magazine, Seventeen, and read the article:

LEADER OF FLASH CITY CAUGHT KISSING "MYSTERY GIRL!"Flash City, in the middle of what seemed to be a very passionate kiss. There is a five thousand dollar reward for anyone who can give us any information about this "mystery girl."

On Saturday, June 7, in Manhattan, NY, photographers captured Jordan Pike, sixteen-year-old teen sensation and leader of the world-famous

Uh-oh, I thought, if anyone in Stoneybrook finds out that there's a five thousand dollar reward for information on me, I'm dead meat. Gulping, I picked up the second magazine, Teen People: