Signs of Love: Stupid Cupid (13 page)

Cindy narrows her eyes. ‘So what
are
you turning in for this week’s edition then, William?’

‘I’ve got a back-up piece on school trip fatality rates.’ He scratches his nose. ‘I’ll dig it out and email it as soon as I get home.’

Cindy tuts like a primary-school teacher. ‘It’s a shame you and Gemma didn’t manage to get more work done.’

Will’s gaze is steady. ‘We got plenty of work done.’

‘I bet you did,’ Sam mutters.

‘But you can’t hurry a good story.’ Will leans back in his chair. ‘Don’t worry, it’ll be well worth waiting for.’

Cindy purses her lips so hard, I’m scared she’ll smudge her lipstick.

Barbara shoots up her hand. ‘Shall I tell everyone about my new piece?’

This week I don’t care what drippy trash she comes out with. I’m working on something important.

Barbara smiles. ‘
Helping Out with Chores: Ten Steps to a Harmonious Home.
’

Will pounces. ‘Washing up for the washed-up,’ he quips.

‘Leave it, Will.’ Sam scowls at him. ‘Some of us help out at home. Not all of us are obsessed with ourselves.’

I turn in my seat, surprised. Sam’s usually the peacemaker. It’s not like him to start firing on his teammates.

Cindy sweeps her lashes in Sam’s direction. ‘Thank you, Sam,’ she says gratefully. ‘It’s nice to hear someone supporting their colleagues instead of
critiquing.’ She scans our faces. ‘Anyone else want to share?’

Dave sticks up his hand. ‘Me and Phil have been reviewing in-ear headphones.’

Cindy tips her head to one side. ‘How interesting.’

Phil chimes in enthusiastically. ‘We’ve got a top five and the most economical.’

‘Sounds great.’ Cindy turns to Jeff. ‘Did you manage to cover the important school matches?’

Jeff nods. “Yes, I’ve got reports from the Year Ten Girls and the Year Nine Boys.’

‘Good, good,’ Cindy says distractedly, gazing back at Sam.

Jeff looks at me and raises his eyebrows – his code for
What is up with this girl?
I grin and nod my head in Sam’s direction – my code for
She’s suffering from
a deadly case of smitten-kitten-itis
.

Cindy carries on gazing at Sam and actually flutters her eyelashes. I thought people only ever did that in naff novels. ‘I
loved
your gig, Sam.’

She’d been there? I don’t know why I’m surprised. Sam probably gave her tickets. I hadn’t noticed her in the crowd. I’d been too busy worrying about Savannah and
Dave Wiggins to watch out for the Ice Queen.

Cindy goes on. ‘It was sweet of you to give Gemma a backstage tour.’ Her mouth smiles. Her eyes don’t.

She saw us?

I’m amazed she recognized me out of uniform.

‘Yeah, well.’ Sam stares at his boots. ‘I was just trying to be nice.’

Will straightens. ‘Maybe you could give her another tour this week?’ he suggests. ‘I could tag along. I’ve always been interested in what goes on behind the scenes at
gigs.’

I chew nervously on a strand of hair. Sam’s going to get suspicious if we both declare our backstage fetish.

‘No way,’ Sam tells Will. ‘Having more than one punter backstage would create a health and safety issue.’

Cindy leans forward. ‘Maybe
I
could be the lucky one to get the backstage tour this week?’

‘Maybe.’ Sam gets to his feet. ‘I’ve got to go.’ He throws his backpack over his shoulder. ‘By the way, my piece is on how tough it is for a new band to break
into the mainstream.’ He tugs the door open. ‘Perhaps I should have focused on backstage groupies.’ He’s out the door before anyone can say goodbye.

I figure he’s joking about the groupies. He must be weirded out by everyone wanting to see his dressing room. I wish I could explain it’s for the story but he’ll find out soon
enough.

‘Can we go too?’ Phil and Dave get up.

Will heaves his bag on to his lap. ‘Might as well.’

Cindy doesn’t put up a fight. I guess with Sam gone, she’s lost interest.

‘Are you coming, Gem?’ Jeff’s in the doorway. ‘Treacle’s waiting.’

Cindy holds up a hand. ‘Gemma?’ She’s suspiciously sweet. ‘Would you stay for a moment? I want a word.’

I wonder what she’s up to. ‘Go without me,’ I tell Jeff. ‘I’ll catch the next bus.’

‘Are you sure?’ he asks.

‘Yeah,’ I reply.

Will’s already loping toward the staircase as Jeff follows Phil and Dave out into the hallway.

Barbara lingers at the door.

‘I won’t be long,’ Cindy tells her.

Barbara nods. ‘I’ll wait in the entrance hall.’

I wonder for the first time if Cindy’s told her about my secret role as Jessica Jupiter. They’re as tight as super-glued twins and Barbara seems the kind of friend you can trust with
a secret.

‘Is that OK, Gemma?’ Cindy asks politely.

‘Sure,’ I tell her. ‘What’s up?’

Barbara clops away down the hall and I wait for Cindy to stop the Sugar Plum Fairy act. But she doesn’t.

‘I just wanted to check in with you to see how everything’s going,’ she says. Immediately I’m suspicious, Cindy is never nice to me. ‘I checked Jessica’s
email account today and it looks like she’s still getting a lot of fan mail, so you need to keep on top of that, OK?’ She glances out of the window.

‘OK,’ I agree. ‘I’ll take a look now and send some responses.’

‘Great.’ Something in Cindy’s tone tells me she’s not finished. ‘So,’ she begins, ‘how’s working with Will going?’

‘Not as scary as I thought.’

‘He can be a bit arrogant,’ she sighs. ‘I was worried about putting the two of you together.’

I’m not convinced. ‘Really?’

She ignores me. ‘So, it’s a good story?’

‘Great.’ I know she’s fishing. But I’m not as dumb as she thinks.

‘Is it topical?’

‘I guess.’ I’m pleased that I manage to stay vague.

‘Is it to do with school?’

‘Not really,’ I murmur, though I suspect that, if Wiggins is dealing drugs out of the club, some Green Park students might be buying them.

Cindy keeps probing. ‘So it’s more of a local issue?’

‘Why don’t you wait and see?’ I decide to take evasive action. ‘I should get on with that fan mail. I’ve got to look after my brother later and I’ve got a ton
of homework.’ I switch on a PC.

Cindy doesn’t argue. I watch her out of the corner of my eye while she buttons her coat. Why isn’t she giving me the third degree? Conversations with Cindy usually involve
bullet-dodging. But here I am, no body armour and still not taking any hits.

She needs me!
The realization pops into my head. Jessica Jupiter is the only columnist on the webzine getting emails and I’m the only Jessica she’s got.

Cindy heads for the door. ‘I’ll see you Wednesday, Gemma.’

‘Bye.’ I wave her out, then type in my username, my heart pounding with excitement. I’m no longer just a helpless Year Nine she can dump on. The tide is coming in and my
stranded-whale career is finally lifting off the bottom.

(Next door’s cat knocked the lid off the dustbin while I was writing the prediction for Aquarius. Once I’d stopped trembling from the sudden clatter outside my
bedroom window, I’d used the incident as ‘inspiration’.)

Poor Rachel! I quickly type a reply.

I open the next.

(Cindy’s Scorpio. Enough said.)

Jez Evans clearly isn’t exactly a rocket scientist, but it’s a fair point. I make a mental note not to let my horoscopes get so personal in future. I don’t
want to ignore half my readership.

The next one is from someone called [email protected]. I start reading, wondering what nonsense it’ll be this time.

(
Join the queue
, I think.)

Oh, no! This isn’t just any girl who’s love-sick for LJ, it has to be from Savannah! Worry grabs me and pushes me back in my chair. Was I wrong to interfere? Perhaps
I shouldn’t have made her dress like an emo. LJ might have walked her home instead of Bethany. And Savannah would be happy instead of heartbroken.

Guilt nibbles at me as I start typing. I’m going to put things right.

I hit send and vow never again to make Savannah’s love life unhappy. From now on I’m going to be nothing but positive and supportive of her romantic dreams.
It’s not up to me to decide what’s best for her.

Outside the window the sky is dark. Streetlights are flickering on. I’d better head home before Mum starts to worry.

I power down the computer and shrug on my jacket. My schoolbag’s heavy with Monday-night homework. I lug it over my shoulder and flick off the storeroom light.

The corridor echoes as I head for the stairs. Classroom lights are on as the cleaners make their rounds. My shoes click-clack on the chipped stone as I run down the stairs.

The emergency exit at the bottom is held open by a heavy Hoover. The cleaners must be taking the shortcut to the bins. I slip out. I can cut past the PE block this way and leave by the back
gate. It comes out right by the bus stop.

I zip my jacket up as the cold wind hits me and follow the path past the bins. As I round the corner of the PE block, I hear voices. Boys are laughing and joking in the sheltered entrance. I
can’t see who it is, but my journalistic curiosity takes over and I slow my pace to listen.

‘No way, guys!’ I recognize an American accent.

‘Then why did you spend Friday night flirting with her?’ a teasing voice challenges.

I peer round the corner. LJ’s hanging with two Year Tens – Mark Eagles and Harry Cosenza.

‘It’s just fun.’ LJ’s leaning against the wall, one knee bent, foot pressed against the brinks. ‘It’s cute the way she trails around after me.’

‘She is really fit,’ Harry comments. ‘Even dressed like an emo.’

They’re talking about Savannah!

‘I’d date her,’ Mark adds.

‘Yeah, right.’ LJ’s dismissive. ‘Who wants to date a Year Nine? Their moms probably still decide their bedtime.’

I resist the urge to jump out and argue.

‘I think you fancy her,’ Harry teases LJ. ‘You just won’t admit it.’

‘Oh, please.’ LJ pulls a face. ‘I’m a model, not a child-minder. Why bother with a girl when I can get any
woman
I want?’

Fury rises like lava inside me. I step back, balling my fists. I’d like to punch that arrogant jerk right on the nose.

Then I remember Jessica’s email.

Oh no!

I’d encouraged Savannah to try harder with LJ because I thought it would cheer her up. Now she’s going to end up even more heartbroken.

Hunching my shoulders, I stride past LJ and his stupid friends. My gaze strafes the ground and I dig my hands in my pockets and vow to work doubly hard to stop Savannah mooning over LJ.