Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
Jeffra has a snide grin.
Carson mutters, “Damn.”
Stassi still checks Ben out like she’s plotting ways to speak to him after class.
Ben scoots forward. “Maybe you shouldn’t throw stones at glass houses, Professor—”
“Wyatt or Rochester,” he cuts him off. “You’d know to call me either if you showed up the first day.”
“Rochester,” Ben concludes.
“Say what you mean, Mr. Cobalt. We’re all open here.” He uncaps a dry erase marker.
“I mean your family owns tabloids that print lies and whose entire goal is to profit off peoples’ suffering. So how can you talk about standards when the Rochesters have none?”
I brace myself for blowback.
The class is collectively caging breath.
“You don’t think your family profits off tabloids?” Wyatt tips his head. “Consumers drive what’s printed, and as long as they’re interested in the Calloway sisters and their children, there will be tabloids and lies spread about your family. And your family will use that attention to sell carbonated corn syrup and a second-rate Powerade. Am I wrong?” He’s asking me?!
All eyes have descended upon my roasted cheeks.
“Uh,” I sit up straighter. Of course our families profit off being newsworthy. It’s social currency. Any successful business would take advantage of press, whether negative or positive, to sell their products.
The thought of giving the Roach kudos or even a thumbs up makes my skin crawl. “You are wrong,” I say. “Ziff Ascend tastes way better than Powerade.”
“Idiot,” Jeffra snickers under her breath and shares a snide smile with Beverly.
Ben tells Wyatt, “So what if my family uses that attention? Just stop. Stop printing lies. Stop printing clickbait.”
“So then we print a boring lede. Our tabloids go under, someone else will rise from the ashes and become us. The only way to get rid of what you hate is to change consumers’ interests, and your family has rooted itself in the cultural foundation of the world for decades. You’re not going anywhere. Someone will always profit off you. You will always profit off them. Welcome to the symbiotic relationship between you and your viewer and the press.” He faces the whiteboard. “Let’s take a critical look at the cultural zeitgeist surrounding the cult hit reality show we’ve been discussing all semester.”
He writes out, Princesses of Philly.
Ben sighs and heaves backward in the chair like it’s disheartening. He eyes me and whispers, “All semester?”
“Yeah, sadly.”
The Roach scrawls on the board, Get inside the Calloway sisters this February. “This was the tagline for the show.”
We discuss how the show was intentionally marketed to hook viewers into the sex angle since my mom’s sex addiction was the current event at the time.
Sex sells. It’s not such a new concept.
“What made this show different from any other reality show?” The Roach points to a student. “Ross.”
“All the sisters lived together?”
“The Real World did it first. Come on, do better than that.” He calls on Jeffra.
I sink down.
She lifts her chin. “It was what happened afterward. The show ended abruptly with the leak of Rose and Connor’s sex tapes.”
“Ben’s parents,” the Roach says with a cruelness.
“Unconsented,” Ben snaps back. “They didn’t plan to release those tapes at that time. They didn’t even know they were being filmed.”
“This isn’t a course on ethics.”
“Ethics should be involved when it comes to media.”
“But they aren’t always.” He speaks in German, as if Ben would understand the language purely by being a Cobalt. I’ve seen many strike conversations in different languages with Eliot, who knows a little of everything but a lot of German and French.
Ben, however, just stews quietly and never responds.
“The importance of POVs with the timing of a cultural phenomenon,” the Roach says and spins back to the whiteboard.
It’s the only chance I have. I lean into Ben’s shoulder. “Did you learn German in the past three years? And why are you here?”
“No,” he whispers. “And Eliot said Jeffra was in your class, and you needed backup.” He takes in my complete and utter shock.
“Was he wrong?” Ben frowns.
No…I just…this is Ben. He should be off chilling with his hockey friends. Flirting with all the girls like Stassi that admire his status as Cobalt royalty. He shouldn’t be here, subjected to dealing with Jeffra.
Eliot’s the one who I would’ve suspected to pull strings and audit this class with me. Why did he enlist Ben’s help instead? Is it just because Ben’s the one already enrolled at Penn?
I shake my head. “Jeffra is Jeffra.” I want to say I can handle her on my own, but that was never the case in high school. I’m not sure if things have changed for me now, and I don’t reject Ben’s help. Not when he’s flunking a class for me.
Still, I want to give him an out. “I appreciate it, but you don’t have to be here, Ben.”
“I kind of do.” He’s evasive, trying to focus on the board.