Star Reporter (6 page)

Thankfully, they took the hint. When it was just the two of us, Nathan tried again. “There's a new milkshake place on Peascod Street.”

It wasn't quite what I was expecting him to say but I had noticed it. The Sugar Rush Mountain shake sounded like my idea of heaven. “Yeah?”

He gazed at me, his smoky blue eyes serious. “I – uh – wondered if you'd like to go there one day. With me. For a milkshake.”

Did he mean as a mate or as – well – more than a mate? I wondered. Then I decided it didn't matter – I'd get to spend some time with him outside of school. “Er, yeah,” I said, smiling. “I would.”

He smiled back, as though he'd been expecting me to say no. As if.

“Good. How about Saturday?”

“Okay,” I said, trying to keep my smile from morphing into a big goofy grin.

“Alright. Shall I come to your house?”

I tried not to cringe as I remembered the last time he'd been in my house. “As long as you promise not to judge me. Between the twins and Rolo, it's kind of a mess.”

“I promise,” he said, with a crinkly-eyed smile that made my stomach flip over. “Oh, and Cassie?”

I picked up my bag and headed for the door. “Yes?”

His gaze flickered upwards and he shook his head. “I'm not sure Windsor is hot enough for that look, to be honest.”

Feeling my cheeks turn pinker than my scarf, I turned and ran. Straight into Kelly.

“Hi, Cassie,” she said, smiling. Then she caught sight of my makeshift hat and her smile faded into a frown. “Everything okay?”

This could not be happening! I couldn't use the same excuse I'd used with Nathan – Kelly might think I was writing for a rival publication. “Erm…”

Her eyes narrowed as she stared at me. “What's going on with your hair?”

My mind raced through the possibilities. What could I tell her that wouldn't result in instant social death? Was temporary leprosy even grosser than the truth?

She leaned closer and pulled the scarf away. “Is it…egg?”

And that was it – I couldn't lie any more. With a quick glance around to make sure Nathan had gone, I accepted my fate with a groan. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

To her credit, Kelly didn't laugh. Instead, she shook her head and linked her arm through mine. “I can't have one of my crew walking around like that,” she said. “Why don't you come to the toilets and I'll sort it out for you?”

In a daze, I let her lead me through the corridors. I mean, I knew she had a reputation as the NICEST PERSON EVER but this was above and beyond that. I wouldn't have blamed her for collapsing into hysterical laughter and here she was helping me out. She really was an angel sent from above.

The girls' toilets weren't empty when we walked in but the second Kelly asked for a bit of space, the crowds around the mirrors melted away.

“That's better,” Kelly said, as the door swung shut and we were alone. “Now, let's see what we can do.”

She rummaged in her bag, presumably looking for a hairbrush. I caught sight of myself in the mirror and groaned – there were lumps of yellow and white egg EVERYWHERE and the collar of my blazer was speckled with blobs too. Seriously, I looked like I'd stepped straight off a poster for infectious diseases. My cheeks turned rosy and I closed my eyes in utter mortification. How do I get myself into these situations? How?

I stood there in silence, wondering if I should try to explain myself. Kelly would understand, wouldn't she? She might even use some of THRIFTY GAL'S tips herself – not the egg one, obviously, but some of the others. Not that Kelly needs beauty tips, of course – she is always perfectly groomed.

Kelly was staring at her phone when I opened my eyes. She dropped it into her bag the moment she saw me watching and pulled out a hairbrush.

“Right,” she said, stepping forward with a determined smile. “I'll brush, you talk. How on earth did you get yourself into this mess?”

She was a total superstar. By the time I walked out of the toilets, my hair was gleaming and my eggy conditioner was nothing more than the kind of memory I might laugh about some day. In a hundred years' time, maybe.

Kelly gave me a friendly smile as I walked into the English block at lunchtime. The usual gang were all there. This time, Mr Bearman had us reviewing previous editions of the magazine, figuring out what had worked and what hadn't. Kieran had his WOLF BRETHREN exclusive and it wasn't as cringey as I'd been expecting. It always amazes me when I realize how much people like them. I know Liam is the kind of idiot who makes me smell his farts, whereas the rest of the school see him as the cool lead singer in a pretty good band.

I got my first assignment too, although I was disappointed that they hadn't gone for one of my great article pitches. Instead, Mr Bearman suggested I talk to George Thompson in Year Seven about the recent Outward Bound trip to Wales, and after a guilty smile as I remembered the sinking raft photos on JOJ, I agreed to do it. As we were leaving, Kelly took me to one side and my heart sank. Don't tell me there was MORE egg to be brushed out?

But it wasn't anything to do with my hair. In fact, she seemed to have forgotten all about it. “How do you like working on HEY JUDE'S! so far?” she asked.

“I love it,” I blurted out, then realized how hideously uncool I sounded. “I mean, it's been okay.”

Kelly smiled. “Believe me, you're a natural. Don't tell anyone I said this but you're the best new journalist we've ever had.”

My heart swelled with pride, even though I wasn't sure how she would know that, given that I hadn't actually covered anything yet. “Really?”

She glanced over her shoulder, as though checking no one was listening in. “Totally. If only the others were half as good as you, then maybe I wouldn't have this problem.”

“What problem?” I said, frowning. As far as I could tell, the biggest problem Kelly Anderson had was keeping up with all her Twitter followers. “Is it anything I can help with?”

She leaned closer. “It's nothing, really. I just need some information about this girl in Year Seven for one of my articles and no one seems to know anything.”

Here it was, my chance to prove to Kelly I was a good journalist. “Which girl?”

“Hannah de Souza,” she replied. “I'm doing a piece about self-confidence and body image and I heard this rumour that Hannah had some kind of plastic surgery. Only I don't know if it's true.”

I'd bet my signed Droids poster it was. Hannah had gone to Westwood Primary, the same as me and Molly and Shenice, and she'd always had the mickey taken out of her for her ears. It wouldn't be a complete surprise if she'd had them sorted out, although I'd hardly call it plastic surgery – I mean, it wasn't like she'd had a nose job or a tummy tuck. But Kelly was biting her lip in a worried kind of way and I was keen to help if I could. “I know Hannah,” I told her. “Maybe I can ask her for you.”

Kelly beamed at me. “Would you? That would be so brilliant!” She hesitated and looked thoughtful. “But maybe you shouldn't tell her I'm interested. I'll make sure I don't use her real name in my story.”

I supposed it made sense. “Okay.”

“Excellent,” she said, her eyes shining. “I knew I'd made the right choice when I picked you.”

She left me standing there, feeling pretty pleased with myself. First Nathan, now this – if I didn't count Egg-gate, today was in the running to be my Best Day Ever!

E-PETITION Number of signatures: 677

Molly and Shenice weren't so impressed with my new secret mission.

“Sounds to me like she's got you doing her dirty work,” Molly sniffed when I explained on the way home.

“What's dirty about it?” I objected. “Either Hannah's had her ears fixed or she hasn't. Maybe she's really proud of her new streamlined look and is waiting for someone to ask her about it.”

Shenice chewed on her Wham bar. “I don't think I'd want everyone to know if I'd had something like that done. It's a bit personal, isn't it?”

I gave up. “What do you think I should wear to meet up with Nathan?”

Molly sniggered. “Not that scarf or the yolk will be on you.”

“Eggsactly!” Shenice said, grinning.

“You crack me up,” Molly said and they both cackled like they were the FUNNIEST PEOPLE EVER.

“Oh, ha ha,” I said. “Please stop, you're making my sides hurt.”

Shenice smirked. “Eggscell—”

“Don't,” I warned. “Just don't.”

We walked along for a while, with the two of them whispering lamer and lamer egg jokes to each other until I'd finally had enough. They were meant to be staying at my house for tea but the way things were going, I'd be packing them off home hungry. “Do you want to see the WOLF BRETHREN auditions tonight or not?” I demanded, when they were practically wetting themselves with laughter.

The threat had the desired effect – Molly stopped laughing instantly. “Yes.”

I scowled. “Then drop the eggy jokes.”

They both nodded like they were wobbly-headed toy dogs.

“And promise you'll help me think of a way to make Hannah spill the beans about her ears,” I went on, deciding I might as well get as much out of these auditions as possible.

Again they nodded.

“Okay then,” I said. “But if either of you so much as hints at an egg joke, I'll set Joshua and Ethel on you. And believe me, they come fully loaded.”

Most people use their garage to keep their car in – not us. Ours is home to the kind of junk charity shops throw out – my popped spacehopper, an old hamster cage and Dad's much-neglected bike. It's also where WOLF BRETHREN rehearse and Liam was already in the garage when we arrived home, setting up for the auditions. He sneered when he saw me, then he spotted Molly and Shenice and turned it into a smarmy smile.

“Hey, ladies, come to see the legend of the wolf being reborn?”

I rolled my eyes. PUR-LEASE. Could he be any more ridiculous? But Molly lapped it up, as usual, and even Shenice looked half-impressed.

“I hope the guitarists who audition know how lucky they are,” Molly said, and I thought I might actually vom.

“Probably not,” Liam said. “But it's like Hendrix always said, ‘many are called but few are chosen'.”

“That wasn't Hendrix, you idiot, it was Jesus,” I snorted. “We studied it in RE last week.”

Liam scowled at me. “Doesn't matter, because really only one will be chosen and as the Mollster there says, they will be lucky.” He fired an imaginary shot at Molly and blew on his fingers. “Are you sticking around for the auditions, babe?”

Molly beamed at him. “Can we?”

“Of course,” he said, reaching down behind an amplifier. “I've even got something for you.”

I was actually worried Molly might die from excitement, until I saw what was in Liam's hand – a mug with ROCK STAR emblazoned across it. Molly's smile dipped a bit as she took it.

Liam winked. “Milk and two sugars, please.”

Don't tell Liam I said this but the auditions were pretty cool. Nine bass players turned up. Four of them barely knew one end of a guitar from the other, two were reasonable and one reminded me of a Muppet, right down to his crazy red hair and fixed grin. By the time the audition ended, it was starting to get dark and there were only two bassists left.

“Do you think her hair is real?” Molly whispered, glaring at fifteen-year-old Anjel as she leaned against the garage wall, chatting with Liam. “They're extensions, right?”

I studied Anjel's long blonde hair. “Looks pretty real to me.”

Shenice squinted across at them. “Hard to say. She's really good, though. How are they going to decide who joins the band?”

The other guitarist, Rhys, was talking to Jordan and Ben, the two remaining members of WOLF BRETHREN. “Liam says they'll each have to do a solo and whoever plays the best one is in.”