The It Girl (21 page)

“Oh my goodness, it's going to be the best.” Sophie nodded, glancing at Brendan. “The most exciting thing will be the announcement of the raffle of course. It was so kind of your mom to offer the prize, Brendan. We've raised plenty of money, so the dance will look really great.”

Brendan shrugged. “No sweat.”

“Well, I know that I would be so excited if I won,” Sophie said, giving him a big smile. “I would love to learn from someone as successful as your mom.”

I reminded myself that Sophie had said at the park that she didn't like Brendan and tried to enjoy the rest of the party.

I was pleased though when my dad pulled up outside the house as promised at eleven o'clock. I smiled as I saw Dog hanging out of the back, his paws resting on the window ledge and his head sticking out.

“Hey, Anna!” I turned around and Brendan was coming toward me. “Thanks again about the show.”

“Oh that.” I gulped. “Yeah, cool. Maybe don't tell anyone until I definitely have the tickets. Let's keep it between us?”

“Sure,” he said, but he seemed distracted. “So . . . um, do . . . you . . .
have a date to the Beatus dance?” He shuffled his feet.

I looked up at him. “No,” I pretty much whispered back. He smiled, as though relieved.

“Anna!” my dad called from behind me as he beeped the horn. “Come on, I need to get home quickly. I just had an idea about gas!”

Brendan's eyes widened.

“Gas masks,” I said quickly by way of explanation. “He's writing a chapter for a book on gas masks. Not just . . . gas.”

“Right. Cool.” Brendan shrugged. “See you at school then.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, grinned at me, and made his way back into the house. I stood in shock for a few more seconds until Dad started beeping his horn again.

I climbed in the car and Dog immediately attacked, slobbering all over my jacket.

“A good evening?” Dad asked politely, not really listening and clearly still distracted by gas thoughts.

“An interesting one,” I replied with a sigh.

How on earth were things so good—I really thought Brendan was going to ask me to the dance—but so bad at the same time? I had offered him tickets that I'd already promised to Jess.

My head hurt.

I AM A TERRIBLE LIAR,
so I don't lie very often. Not because I'm a good person. If I could get away with it, I bet I would lie all the time. But something in my face gives me away. Dad says it's because my eyes go really wide and I don't blink the whole time I'm speaking. Apparently it's very creepy and puts him on edge.

The main lies I have told in my life are as follows:

1. Every year I lie about something to get out of sports day.
I try to make it different each year, you know, just to make it more believable. Sometimes I want the lie so badly that it actually becomes the truth. Like the time I lied about feeling very sick, and then I got so worked up that Dad was going to call the doctor and I would get discovered that I projectile
vomited all over Dad when he had the audacity to ask me if I was trying to get out of going to sports day.

2. That it wasn't me who hid Dad's manuscript behind the radiator that ended up catching fire.
This sounds bad to admit because I set Josie Graham on fire, but I SWEAR I am not a pyromaniac. It's just that I'd spilled my grape soda all over Dad's manuscript, and he was going for a meeting with his editor that day so I knew he needed it. I panicked and threw it down by the radiator. He thought he'd lost it somehow, and then later that day when he was in his meeting, making excuses about turning up without a manuscript, the babysitter and I were busy running around trying to save things in his study that had turned into a giant furnace.

3. When I told Mom that Dad had gone to a cooking class.
This was a necessary lie. I knew that Mom had always felt guilty about traveling all the time leaving Dad to raise me. I thought that if she believed Dad had improved his cooking skills, she might feel better about everything. I still haven't
told her that this never took place and have to be on my toes every time she comes to stay. When she asks Dad how he has no idea how to use a whisk when he went to the most expensive cooking class in London, I have to jump in there with a change of conversation that will distract her. This lie also means that we have to constantly eat out while she stays, but it has to look like a natural decision. I have become very good at this over the years.

4. When I lied to Jess about not having tickets to the On the Rox show.
This is the worst lie I've told.

She didn't even look that mad. She just looked disappointed. “Oh, that's okay, Anna.”

“Marianne thought she had enough tickets, but it turns out she doesn't.”

“Right, well, you can't do anything about that.” Jess shrugged. She smiled at me when she saw my facial expression. “Anna, it's not a big deal; don't worry about it.”

It was a big deal, because I knew that she had really wanted to see them; she had been looking forward to it for weeks. I had asked Marianne if there was any chance of getting
another ticket, but they were all sold out and there were no backstage passes left. I searched Jess's expression.

“We can see them another time. I don't think they're touring for a bit, but next time they come to London we can go.” She offered me a gummy bear. I declined. “You'd like them. It's a shame that you can't go either. Who is Marianne taking?”

“Some friends I think.” My heart sank at how kind Jess was being.

“Well, that's fair enough. It was nice of her to offer though. Never mind.”

“Maybe we can go to another show? Is there another band you like?” I asked desperately.

“Of course. On the Rox are my favorite, but I like lots of bands.” She nodded optimistically. “I'm sure you'll get invited to some more.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, downhearted.

“Please don't get upset, Anna; honestly, it's not your fault.” She picked up her bag. “Anyway, the show is right before the Beatus dance, isn't it? This way we can have a relaxing week before the dance.”

“You're definitely going to the Beatus?” I asked, momentarily distracted.

“Yes.” Jess lifted her eyes to the ceiling. “Has Brendan asked you yet?”

“Brendan? Why would Brendan ask me?”

“I don't know, genius.” She chuckled. “Maybe because you've wanted that ever since you heard about the Beatus dance and the past few weeks you two have become quite close?”

“Oh, ha no. He hasn't asked me. Has anyone asked you?”

Jess snorted. “No, not yet.”

“Not yet?”

“Well, there's still a few days, Anna; you never know what might happen. Hey, what's wrong? I'm just joking. I'll be going with Danny like we agreed. You look upset.”

I wondered if Jess really had been joking. Or did she think someone other than Danny might ask her to the dance? Maybe the screening had gone much better than I'd imagined. . . .

As I got home, I was hit by the overwhelming feeling of wanting to cry. I could hear Dad on the phone in his study, so I grabbed Dog's collar and took him with me into the closet. I wanted to cuddle into Dog's fur, but it became apparent, as soon as I shut the closet door and Dog and I were alone in a confined space, that Dog had rolled in something that day.

As I was chastising him for being smelly, he heard Dad make a sound in the hall, so he tugged free of my grip and
barged out of the closet and into the hall, where he proceeded to attack a plug.

“Anna, are you in there?” I heard Dad scramble around the telephone table, and then he was standing in the doorway peering in. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” I whimpered.

“You look upset.”

“I'm not upset,” I responded, hoping the darkness wouldn't give away my red, blotchy face.

“Will you come out here and talk about it?”

“I like it in here.”

Dad paused for a moment and then crouched down and crawled into the closet and shut the door so we were in complete darkness.

“Dad, what are you doing?”

“I thought you might find it easier to talk to me in here.”

“You must be busy. You've got that gas chapter.”

“It can wait. You want to talk about it? You don't have to. We can sit in here in silence for a bit, and then I could order you Chinese food for when you're ready to come out?” I heard him shuffle as he got comfortable. I felt big in the closet, so it can't have been very comfortable for him.

“I haven't been very nice.”

“Well, that can't be right.”

“I haven't. Marianne offered me tickets to a show, so I invited Jess to come with me. But then there's this guy . . .”

Dad waited a moment and then spoke when it was clear I was faltering. “Go on.”

“Dad. You can't be weird.”

“I'm not being weird.”

“You're always being weird.”

“
You're
always being weird.”

“And whose fault is that?” I argued. “Fine. You can't be weird when I talk about boys.”

He sighed. “Okay, I promise I won't be weird when we talk about boys.”

I eyed him up suspiciously in spite of not really being able to see him, but I did it for effect anyway and then took a deep breath. “There's this boy who I think likes me. He happens to be the most perfect, amazing, popular boy in school. And he likes
me.
I think he does anyway.” I paused, trying to work out how to put it in a way that old people might understand.

“Go on,” Dad encouraged.

“Well I want him to invite me to the dance next week. Because then I would be popular and normal too. And everyone would be happy. So I invited him to the show.”

“The same show you invited Jess to?”

“Yes. So then I had to tell her I didn't have tickets anymore. Because I didn't want to hurt her by telling her I'd invited Brendan instead. She looked so sad when I said we couldn't go anymore.”

I paused again. My dad cleared his throat. “All right, go on.”

“I've told Brendan not to brag about it. I don't want Jess finding out. But she was so nice about it and I was lying to her. It was horrible.”

“I see.” Dad waited patiently for more. I didn't say anything. “Anna. Considering we're sitting in a closet, I'm going to guess that taking Brendan to the show isn't actually what you want to do.”

I sighed. “I don't know. I think somehow I might actually have a chance with Brendan. If I don't invite him to the show, he might not invite me to the dance.”

“If Brendan really likes you,” Dad said gently, reaching out for my foot, which he grabbed and shook, “he will ask you to the dance whether you take him or Jess to the show. Don't you think?”

“Um . . .”

“Anna. Boys don't just like girls because they invite them
to things. You promised these tickets to Jess. Brendan will understand.”

“You're right. What do I do?”

“Simple. Tell Brendan you promised the ticket to Jess first. That you'll take him to the next one. He might be disappointed, but Jess has been a very good friend to you. Especially during the chaos of my engagement.” He chuckled. “I haven't heard of Brendan until recently. Or that other boy you keep mentioning, Conway or something.”

“I'm not sure he's my biggest fan either.”

“You'll sort it out just by talking to them. And if you can't, then you can always invite them along to something fun like an air show. Oh, there's a great talk coming up actually, given by an expert in land mines. I can always try to rustle up some tickets . . . they'll love that!”

“I'll talk to them I think, thanks, Dad,” I said hurriedly. “We can leave the closet now.”

“Excellent news. Glad I could help. I'm getting a leg cramp.”

After we had crawled out of the closet and Dad had awkwardly pulled me in for a big hug, which Dog had then tried to gate-crash, I decided to take Dog for a walk in the hope of finding Brendan playing soccer in the park so I could explain
to him that I would be taking Jess to On the Rox.

Instead of Brendan and the boys, I spotted Josie with a couple of the girls from our class, Debbie and Scarlet, with their backs toward me, sitting cross-legged on one of the benches, reading magazines. It was strange to see Josie without Sophie, but I figured that Sophie was probably at a sports practice and Josie had to make do with others until her return.

I made my way toward them to say hi, dragging Dog with me, who was growling at a squirrel nearby. As I got closer, I overheard them talking and slowed when I heard my name.

“Oh my goodness, look at Anna here.” Josie was sniggering, pointing at a page. “This should be in the worst-dressed column surely. They must have made a mistake. She needs a stylist.”

“Well, it's not like she has the best guidance.” Debbie raised her eyebrows. “Marianne Montaine is usually a fashion disaster. I would die of embarrassment if I had to be associated with someone like her.”

“Hello? She has to be associated with Anna. Hardly a dream come true for a celebrity. At least she's figured out her hair. It's
something
.” Josie sighed. “It's embarrassing though that she thinks that she's . . . I don't know . . .”

“Important?” Scarlet suggested.

“No, not that. Until this whole It Girl thing happened, she was a loser. You can't just change overnight. The only thing that's different is her dad's marital status,” she snorted.

“Brendan likes her,” Debbie pointed out, flicking the page of the magazine.

“Not really,” Josie scoffed. “He puts up with her probably. He wouldn't actually think of hanging out with her for real. Like one on one.”