The It Girl (22 page)

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Authors: Katy Birchall

BOOK: The It Girl
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“I heard that he might ask her out. Maybe to the Beatus dance,” Debbie said authoritatively.

“Who told you that?” Josie laughed. “Don't be silly. I'm sure that Brendan thinks the same as I do. Anna is a loser. And once a loser, always a loser.” Josie smugly took the magazine from Debbie and flicked to the fashion page.

I felt tears of hurt and anger running down my cheeks as they giggled together. Dog started a low growl and I ran with him on the leash, praying that they didn't see me.

As I came around the corner to our house, Danny appeared. “Hey, Anna, I was just at your house. Your dad said you were out for a walk. I wanted to return all those DVDs you lent me. They were great—I was just discussing them with your dad.” He noticed my face as I looked up at him. “Hey, what's wrong? Have you been crying?”

“No,” I said, determinedly wiping my cheeks.

“Look, if this is about Jess,” he said, looking confused, “she's not mad at you, Anna. It's not your fault that you don't have the tickets anymore.”

“Danny.” I was exhausted. “Everyone thinks I'm the biggest loser in the world. I have to prove to them I'm not.”

“What? I don't think you're the biggest loser in the world.” He frowned. “I think you're very cool.”

“You think I'm cool?”

“Yeah! I mean, not in the same way Sophie Parker is.” He rolled his eyes. “I know you really like her but she's fake. You're cool in a different way. You're interesting and funny. You're really odd.” I smiled and he continued. “Odd in a good way though. I think it's cool that you know loads about movies that I haven't heard of. And you read cool books and stuff. Plus you're really nice.” He shrugged. “Yeah, I think you're cool.”

“Thanks, Danny.”

•  •  •

That night, I lay in my dog pajamas and wondered whether everyone else at school except Jess and Danny felt the same way Josie did. Had they all been laughing at me, all along? Poor Anna, they must have been saying all this time, thinking she's popular when she's not.
How mortifying that they had all been making fun of me when I wasn't there, maybe even making fun of me to my face without me realizing.

I grew hot with anger and threw my covers off. I had to prove everyone wrong. If Brendan went to the show with me, then he would definitely ask me to the dance after that. Then they wouldn't think I was a loser anymore.

Jess would understand. She would probably encourage me to take Brendan. I was embarrassed that I had drawn attention to her and Danny yet again. Josie and her friends must have been laughing at them behind their backs too. I wasn't going to let that continue.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Today

Hi, Anna,

Just wanted to check that you were definitely okay today? I hope you know that you can talk to me and Jess anytime you need. You seemed very quiet when we walked back to your house.

I thought of another reason why you're not a loser: you don't
pretend to be someone you're not.

That's really cool.

Don't tell anyone I said something like that—it's pretty embarrassing and won't do anything for my street cred. Not that I have street cred. But just in case I do.

All right. Bye.

Danny

21.

EIGHT THINGS THAT I HAVE
been very wrong about:

1. You could only be a princess if you had long hair.

2. Pepto-Bismol would taste just like a strawberry milkshake.

3. Buying black corduroy bell-bottoms was a good idea.

4. If Dog loved dog biscuits so much, they couldn't taste so bad.

5. I could read a map. In France. When Dad was driving.

6. That becoming a Jedi was a viable option.

7. Andy Murray's level of emotion. The 2012 Wimbledon final loss to Federer was a game changer.

8. Wanting Brendan Dakers to take me to the Beatus dance.

I should have known the moment we showed up at the show. Marianne had given us strict instructions to meet her by the stage door around the back of the building as there was no way she was going in the normal entrance. “The press will know I'm going,” she had said, sighing on the phone to me the night before. “They won't leave me alone.”

So I had agreed to meet Brendan at eight o'clock at the venue and, when he arrived, I directed him to the back of the building. As we stood there waiting for someone to tell us what to do, Brendan started going on about how excited he was to be there. “I bet there's going to be some cool people inside.”

“Maybe,” I said, pulling nervously at the leather jacket he had said looked nice on me at Sophie's party.

“I haven't met many famous people.”

“Your mom must be around famous people all the time. Supermodels on fashion shoots, actors she's photographing?”

“Yeah but I never get to meet them.” He kicked a pebble that went skittering across the road. “She never lets me come to photo shoots.”

“Oh right.”

He kicked another pebble.

“I feel like I probably should have listened to On the Rox a lot more before tonight,” I joked.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I won't know many words. I'm more of a movie person than a music person I think.”

“Oh right.” He smiled at me. “That's cool.”

“You like movies?”

“Yeah, movies are cool.”

“I like superhero movies.”

How was it that I was getting WORSE at talking to boys?

“Yeah. The Wolverine thermal underwear, right?”

KILL ME NOW.

“Ha, yeah. Right.”

Thankfully, we were both rescued from the most awkward conversation of all time because the stage door opened, and a large man with a bald head and an earpiece ushered us in.

“Follow the hallway down and through the next door. They'll figure out your backstage passes.”

Seriously, why are all bouncers bald? Is it a requirement of that line of work? I made a note to myself to google it later.

“Backstage passes?” Brendan asked, looking straight ahead as we walked down the hall. “Cool.”

Marianne greeted us on the other side of the door, looking surprised at Brendan. “I thought . . .”

“This is Brendan,” I said quickly, hoping she wouldn't make a big deal about Jess not being there.

“Right. Nice to meet you.”

“You too.” Brendan shook her hand, staring in awe.

“You a fan of On the Rox, Brendan?”

“Yeah, I really love them.”

“Have you even listened to them, Anna?” she teased.

“I have one hundred percent listened to them and they are GREAT.”

“Can you name one of their songs?”

“Please,” I scoffed. “I am not going to rise to this.”

“So that's a no.” She laughed. “I hope your knowledge is better than hers, Brendan.”

“It
definitely
is,” he replied a little too enthusiastically.

“Let's go through,” Marianne instructed. “I think it's about to start. What drinks do you guys want? Lemonade or something?”

“Yes please.” I nodded.

“Same,” Brendan said. “I'll help you carry them.”

“That's okay, you go on and I'll come join you guys. Just stay on this side and don't go too far into the crowd. It's busy and I'll never find you—especially since you don't have your phone, Anna.”

Dog had helpfully stored my phone in the toilet bowl for safekeeping that morning. It meant that we had to stick rigidly to any meeting plans, but to tell the truth, I was enjoying the freedom from Dad checking up to see that I hadn't run off with someone from a boy band every ten minutes.

I followed Brendan through the doors and suddenly felt nervous as I realized it was just the two of us. I wasn't sure why. Maybe it was just strange being alone with Brendan. Usually we were surrounded by everyone else, so now that it was just me and the most popular boy in school, I really felt the pressure to say and do the right thing.

Or maybe I was just feeling uncomfortable because the thermal underwear had been brought up. The mere memory of it was enough to ruin a perfectly pleasant evening.

The main room was packed full of teenagers. Brendan and I did as we'd agreed and hung back away from the crowd so that Marianne would be able to find us. Brendan craned his neck over the mass. “Wow, this is really cool,” he said, looking around him. “Thanks for bringing me, Anna.”

“No problem.” I smiled.

“I think they might start soon.”

“Yeah, they're due on any minute.”

“Let's get closer,” he said, turning to me excitedly.

“Yeah, definitely, but let's wait for Marianne first.”

“She might take forever at the bar; come on.” He grabbed my hand and I blushed. It felt nice.

“I don't know—she might not be able to find us. I'd rather wait.”

He looked at me and then let go of my hand, obviously disappointed. “Okay.”

“We can go up to the front in a minute, as soon as she's back.”

“Yeah.” He nodded, watching as everyone crowded together toward the front. “Might be too packed in a minute.”

I felt even more uncomfortable than before. Why couldn't I just have done what he asked and gone with him to the front? It was Brendan Dakers! Girls in my grade would do anything to go with him to a show and have him take their hand and lead them to the front of the stage. I tried to think of something to say to make up for it, but my brain just couldn't work fast enough. He made me too nervous.

“There you are.” Marianne came up behind us, holding out the drinks. “It's so hard to make out who is who in here.”

“Thanks.” Brendan smiled as he took his drink from her.

“No worries. I think they're going on in a minute. Tom said they wouldn't be long.”

“Whoa, are you talking about the lead singer, Tom Kyzer?” Brendan's eyes widened.

“Yeah, I was with him earlier backstage. It's so weird, he still gets nervous, even though he's performed hundreds of times.”

“Really?” I asked. “That's kind of comforting to know that rock stars still get nervous. Does he have any cool rituals before he goes on stage? Like tennis players do before they play?”

Before she could answer, Brendan cut in. “Do you think we might be able to use our backstage passes too and go with you to meet the band? Later on, after the show?”

“Maybe.” Marianne shrugged. “It depends on the time. We can't get back too late. Your parents would kill me.”

“Mine don't care,” Brendan hastily assured her. “It would be pretty cool if you introduced us.”

“Well, if we have time,” Marianne said, looking at me.

The lights suddenly flared up on the stage, and the band emerged to an eruption of screams from the crowd. Marianne and I started laughing at all the people at the front of the standing area, jumping up and down and reaching outward desperately toward the band. “That's why you want to be a rock star,”
Marianne yelled over the noise. “Imagine the feeling you would get.”

“You would feel so awesome,” Brendan shouted back.

They struck up the first song, and the three of us just stood there, bopping along as the rest of the audience went crazy.

“I think we should go to the front,” Brendan said after a few minutes. “That's where all the action is.”

“I'm not a fan of all that,” Marianne admitted. “I get claustrophobic up there. But you guys go ahead.”

“I don't know.” I anxiously looked at the crowd of people throwing themselves around. “I think I prefer it here.”

“Really?” Brendan looked at me desperately. Then his face brightened. “Tell you what . . . you guys stay here, and I'll head to the front and check it out. Then I can come back and get you if it's really good!”

“Okay,” I said, a sinking feeling in my stomach as he winked at me and then confidently marched toward the front, pushing his way through.

“He seems nice,” Marianne observed.

“Yeah, he is,” I agreed.

I soon lost sight of him as the back of his head joined one of the many manically bobbing around at the front. After a while I felt too stupid to just stand there any longer and, with
the knowledge that I was out of sight of the most popular boy in school, I began to dance.

Marianne grabbed my arm. “What in the WORLD are you doing?”

“Hello. I'm dancing?”

“That is not dancing,” she shrieked through giggles. “I don't even know what that is.”

“I'm just doing my thing.” I waved my arms.

“What is that? The Octopus move?”

“That's right, it's the Octopus move.” I continued to lead by example. Marianne joined in so that the two of us were standing by the side of the crowd, away from everyone else, doing the Octopus.

“Let me show you how it's done,” Marianne said suddenly, moving away from me into some space. And boy did she show me how it is done.

Marianne Montaine has an array of dance moves up her sleeve:

THE HEDGEHOG

Put your hands up straight and flat and have them at just above head level. Then proceed to move them up and down away from you and
then back toward you. As though they were the prickles of a hedgehog.

THE HIP MOVE

This mostly involves a lot of thrusting in a non-elegant manner. Marianne's version also includes an intense facial expression as though you are thinking,
Yes, commoners, watch me work.

SWAN-HAND

You put your hand up like it's a swan beak, and then you bop it to the music.

THE EDWARDIAN

A mixture between prancing and stepping but on the spot. Quite ballet-like. Point your toe and stick it out. Then repeat with the other leg. This move is much improved with your hands on your hips.

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