“When did Megan tell you about the blog?”
“On Tuesday night,” Kira says, putting her things back in her bag. “We were at Costa and she showed us it on her phone. She didn’t realize we were already subscribers!”
“I hope you’re going to carry on blogging,” Amara says. “You know, once all the fuss has died down. I love the things you write about.”
I give her a weak smile. “And what did she say about—about Noah?”
“She said that he’d cheated on Leah Brown with you.”
“I had a right go at her when she said that,” Kira says, giving me a shy smile. “I told her there was no way you’d do something like that. Not intentionally, anyway.”
I smile back at her. “Thank you.”
“To be honest, I’m not really sure I like Megan all that much anymore,” Kira says. “I couldn’t believe she posted that video of you on Facebook after the play.”
I feel the sudden urge to hug Kira but I’m way too scared it will make me cry.
“Come on, ladies. Haven’t you got lessons to go to?” Mr. Morgan calls to us from the front of the class.
“See you at lunchtime?” Amara says.
I nod.
“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you,” Kira says.
“Yeah. You’re Girl Online,” Amara adds. “We’re your biggest fans.”
• • •
The glow from my conversation with the twins lasts as long as it takes me to get to the drama department—about two minutes. As I walk down the corridor toward my class, the thought of seeing Megan and Ollie has my stomach tied in knots. I’m late getting there and everyone has gone in, but there’s no sign of either of them.
“Pen!” Call-Me-Jeff exclaims as soon as I walk in. “How are you?”
I can tell immediately that he knows and I feel twenty-something pairs of eyes boring into me. I picture my room in the Waldorf. I remind myself that this is my life, not theirs, and I know the truth.
“I’m fine,” I reply, and as I go to sit down I feel as if I almost mean it.
By lunchtime I’m feeling even more relieved. Megan and Ollie are both off sick and all the people I thought would give me the most grief about what’s happened are actually showing me a grudging respect. Maybe it’s that they don’t quite know how to handle it, or maybe Leah Brown just doesn’t have too many fans here. Either way, Kira and Amara are lovely and everyone else leaves me alone. Before I go back for afternoon lessons, I pop out to see Tom. He’s fallen asleep over the steering wheel. I knock on the window to wake him up.
“What’s happened?” he says, instantly looking panicked.
“It’s OK—you can go home,” I tell him.
He rubs his eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, everyone’s being fine. Seriously. Go home. Get some proper sleep—in a bed.”
Tom frowns. “OK, well, I’m going to leave my phone on so if you need me just call and I’ll be straight back down here.”
I smile. “Will do.”
I watch Tom drive off and I’m about to go back into school when I feel my phone vibrate in my blazer pocket. I take it out and see that I’ve got a text from Elliot. My heart starts to pound as I open it.
Please don’t hate me. My dad confiscated my laptop and phone and I only just got them back. We were in the middle of a massive argument when you called and I couldn’t face seeing you. PS: I’ve run away
I study the text for clues as to whether Elliot leaked the story about me. When I don’t find any, I send a reply getting straight to the point.
Did you tell that website about me and Noah—and about the blog?
What website? No, but I feel terrible about the comment I posted on your blog. It’s been so horrible at home, I wasn’t thinking straight. PS: I’VE RUN AWAY, AS IN RUN AWAY FROM HOME!!
Elliot didn’t do it. He didn’t leak the story. I feel overcome with relief that he didn’t, and guilt that I ever thought he could.
What do you mean you’ve run away? Where are you?
On the pier
You’ve run away to the pier?!!
No!!! I’ve run away and I happen to currently be at the pier. I need to see you xxx
I start walking down the road away from school, texting as I go.
I need to see you too! xxx
Can you come and meet me? Please? I’ll even play that stupid 2p game . . .
On my way
Chapter Forty-Two
As soon as I see Elliot leaning against the 2p game in the arcades, I know there’s something seriously wrong. He’s wearing an enormous burgundy Puffa jacket, a huge pair of green wellies, and a Russian-style fake fur hat, and for once he has not managed to make a weird combo look cool.
“What’s happened?” we both say at exactly the same time.
“Jinx!” we both say at exactly the same time. We look at each other for a second before we burst out laughing. Then Elliot hugs me as the laughter quickly turns to tears.
“I can’t breathe,” I splutter, trying to remove my face from the humongous Puffa jacket.
“Sorry. Sorry.” Elliot takes a step back. “Oh, Pen, I’m so sorry.”
“What for?” I say, a last trace of suspicion flickering in my mind.
“For that stupid comment I made on your new year’s resolution post. I’ve been such an idiot, but so much has been going on at home I need to explain.”
I look at him. “Have you really run away?”
Elliot nods gravely. “ ’Fraid so. As of tonight, I am a man on the street, a man of no fixed abode, one of our nation’s lost souls.”
“But it’s the middle of winter. You’re going to freeze.”
“Why do you think I’m wearing this getup?” Elliot gestures at his bizarre outfit. “I’m not dressing like a chavvy Russian fisherman for fun, you know. I’m trying to avoid hypothermia!”
“But why are you running away?”
“My dad’s said he’ll disown me if I ever get a boyfriend.” Elliot turns and stares into the 2p machine. The flashing lights cast patterns on his face.
“What?” I stare at him, horrified.
Elliot looks back at me. His eyes are glistening with tears. “He said that there’s no way I can keep on living under his roof if I ever became”—Elliot mimes a pair of speech-marks—“ ‘a practicing homosexual.’ And then yesterday morning the whole thing escalated and he took away my laptop and phone.”
“What? But why?”
“Because he’d gotten it into his head that I’d met someone while I was in America and he didn’t want me contacting them.”
“But why did he think that?”
“Remember my campaign to ruin my parents’ Christmas?”
I nod. “Hank the Hell’s Angel?”
“Yep. You could say it backfired slightly.”
“Oh no.”
“I said to my dad, ‘You can’t take away a teenager’s online access; it’s like taking away their right to breathe.’ ”
“What did he say to that?”
“He’s a lawyer. He just quoted a load of laws at me until I lost the will to live. I think that’s when you turned up at the door.” He frowns at me. “Why didn’t you knock on the wall? And why did you send me such a stroppy text? Was it the comment on the blog? It was, wasn’t it? I’m so sorry. I’ve been so jealous and it’s been horrible.”
I stare at him. “What do you mean? Jealous of what?”
“Of Noah. And of you.” Elliot looks away, embarrassed.
“Why are you jealous of me?”
“Because it’s so easy for you. You meet someone you like and your parents are fine with it. They’re like, ‘Hey, let’s go and spend Christmas with him!’ You can fall in love and live happily ever after just like Cinderella. But if I ever meet my Prince Charming I’m going to be disowned.”
“Oh, Elliot.” I hug him to me, my eyes filling with tears. The whole time we were away it never occurred to me that Elliot might be feeling like th
is, and how difficult it must be for him.
“And I hate myself for taking it out on you,” Elliot sobs into my shoulder. “You’re my best friend. My only true friend, and I wasn’t able to just be happy for you. But I was so scared, Pen. I’m so scared of losing you to him.”
I can’t help a sarcastic laugh when he says this.
Elliot frowns at me. “What?”
“There’s no danger of that happening.”
“Why not?” Elliot wipes the tears from his eyes and studies my face.
I sigh. “I take it you haven’t seen what’s happened?”
“Seen what?”
“Online?”
“No. I told you, I only just got my stuff back. I broke into Dad’s study while he was at work and stole them back.”
“It turns out that Noah is a musician.”
Elliot looks at me blankly.
“A famous musician. Well, famous in America anyway and—” I break off, barely able to bring myself to say it. “And he’s in a relationship with Leah Brown.”
Elliot’s mouth drops open. “What? Leah Brown, as in the chart-topper Leah Brown?”
I nod.
“Leah Brown, as in singer of the bestselling ‘Do You Wanna Taste My Candy?’ Leah Brown?”
I nod again, my eyes filling with tears.
“But that’s insane!” Elliot stares at me and I notice that there isn’t a trace of pleasure on his face, only shock and horror, and once again I feel terrible for doubting him. “Oh, Pen. Oh my God. But how—how did he manage to keep that from you?”
So I tell him all about the little clues that were there all along but I just didn’t notice. The girl by the vintage store, the overheard snippet of conversation with Sadie Lee, the fact that Noah barely went anywhere with me in public.
Elliot can’t stop shaking his head. “But what about the things you said on your blog—about him being your soul mate?”
“I was wrong.” A sob wells up inside of me as I say it. “And now the whole world knows because someone leaked it to a celebrity website. And everyone knows about my blog.”
“But how? Had you told Noah about your blog?”
“No. I hadn’t told anyone—apart from you.”
Elliot stares at me. “Wait a minute.” He takes his phone from his pocket and starts scrolling through his messages. “You thought I did it!”
“Only because you were the only one who knew. Or at least I thought you were . . .”
“But who else could know?”
“Megan.”
Elliot’s eyebrows shoot up so high they almost reach his hairline. “What? How would she know? You didn’t tell her, did you?”
“No. But maybe she saw something when she stayed over that night or maybe . . .”
“What?”
“Maybe Ollie told her.”
Elliot frowns. “How would Ollie know?”
“He was round at mine on Tuesday—in my bedroom. He could have seen my blog on my laptop.”
Elliot’s eyes are now practically popping out of his head. “OK, from now on can you please just assume that my response to anything you say is prefixed with a ‘WTF’!”
I nod and laugh.
“WTF was the Walking Selfie doing in your bedroom?”
“He came around to see me. He brought me a Christmas present.”
“A Christmas present? What was it?”
“I don’t actually know. I never got around to opening it. Ollie was the one who told me that Noah was a musician. He saw a photo of him on my mirror and he recognized him.”
“What—but—oh my God.” Elliot grips hold of my arm. “OK, I’m sorry but I think we need to be seated for this conversation. Seated in front of two chocolate milkshakes so that I don’t actually pass out from the shock.”
“Choccywoccydoodah?” we both say together. “Jinx!”
I link arms with Elliot—or attempt to link arms with the enormous Puffa jacket—and we walk out onto the pier. But despite the biting sea breeze, I feel a growing warmth inside of me. My worst fears from yesterday were all unfounded. I’m not alone at all. I’ve got my family and the twins and I’ve got my amazing best friend back.
Chapter Forty-Three
By the time we get to the café, I’m feeling even better. None of the nightmare scenarios I’d been afraid of happening yesterday have happened. We’ve walked right through town and not a single person has recognized me and there hasn’t been a single abusive comment. As long as I can avoid the Internet for the next year, I should be fine.
We order our milkshakes and find a table at the back. Normally I like to sit facing the door so that I can people-watch, but not today. Today, I instinctively sit with my back to the rest of the room, just in case.
“You know what, Penny, it’s Noah’s loss,” Elliot says, unzipping his Puffa jacket. “You’ll get over this eventually and move on, but if he’s the kind of guy who can be so deceitful then he’ll never be truly happy.”
I nod, wishing that I could believe him. “Thank you. I’m so glad I’ve got you. And you know what? No matter what happens in the future—even if I do one day, by some miracle, meet a genuine Prince Charming—no one could ever replace you. I’ll always need my best friend.”
I look at Elliot hopefully but he’s frowning.
“Well, well, well,” he says, pursing his lips the way he always does when he’s really annoyed.
At first I think he’s looking at me but then I see that he’s actually looking at something over my shoulder. I turn and see Megan and Ollie walking over to the counter, huddled in conversation. I feel a sudden burst of panic. What am I going to say to them? What am I going to do? But it turns out that I don’t need to do a thing because Elliot is already on his feet.
“Hey, Mega-Bitch?” he calls over to Megan.
Megan and Ollie turn and look over at us and in that instant I know for sure that they’re behind the Internet leak. As soon as they see me, they both look so guilty.
“Why don’t you come and join us?” Elliot says.
“Oh, no, it’s OK—we were just going,” Megan calls back, looking really flustered.
“That’s funny, because I could have sworn you’d just arrived.” Elliot starts walking over to them. I get to my feet and hurry after him.
“Hi, Penny,” Ollie mutters, not even able to make eye contact with me.
“Did you leak the story?” I ask, staring at Megan. She refuses to make eye contact with me too, staring at the floor. I take a step closer to her. “I said, did you leak that story about me?”
“About you what?” Megan hisses. “About you cheating with someone?”
“I didn’t cheat with anyone,” I hiss back. “I didn’t know who he was. I didn’t know he was with anyone.”
“Yeah right.” Megan looks at me scornfully. “If you didn’t want anyone knowing about it, why did you put it all over your stupid blog?”
“That blog is anonymous. Well, it was until you found out.” I turn to Ollie. “Did you see it on my laptop when you were in my room?”
Ollie doesn’t say anything, but his face flushes bright red.
I stare at him in disbelief. “You were snooping on my laptop?”
“It was right there,” Ollie says. “I just thought I’d have a read while you were in the bathroom.”
“I don’t think you’ve got any right to be judging anybody right now, Penny,” Megan says haughtily.
“Tell me,” Elliot says, turning to her, “do you go to night school to learn how to be such a bitch, or does it just come naturally?”
“I’ve got nothing to say to you,” she says snidely.
“That’s good, because I’ve got plenty to say to you and it’ll be so much better without any interruptions.” Elliot takes a step closer, so that his face is just inches from hers. “You have to be one of the most vacuous (look it up), inane (look it up), stupid (you should know that one) people I have ever met. And if it wasn’t for the fact that you have just r
eally, really hurt my best friend, I wouldn’t even be wasting a single pascal (look it up) of breath on you.”
Megan turns to Ollie. “Are you going to let him talk to me like that?”
Ollie looks at her blankly.
Elliot laughs. “Oh, please. He’s probably too busy wondering whether this is a good time for a selfie.” He turns to Ollie. “It’s not, by the way; it’s a very bad time. But anyway—what was I saying?” He turns back to Megan. “Ah yes, you are easily, without a shadow of a shadow of a doubt, one of the ugliest people I have ever met.”
Megan visibly recoils.
Elliot nods. “It’s true. You’re so bitter and fake it actually oozes out of your pores. Just like pus!”
Megan gasps.
At this point, the waitress comes out of the kitchen holding the tray with our milkshakes. “Oh,” she says, when she sees us standing by the counter.
“It’s OK. We can have them over here,” Elliot calls, “with our friends.”
I look at him and he gives me the tiniest wink. The waitress puts the tray on the counter, then disappears back into the kitchen.
“Ready?” Elliot says to me quietly as we turn to pick up the glasses.
“Ready,” I reply.
We both pick up our drinks and we turn and we throw them over Megan and Ollie. And if there was an Olympic event for synchronized milkshake throwing, we would have just won gold. Megan and Ollie stand there gasping in shock as sludgy brown milkshake drips down from their heads.
“OK,” Elliot says to Ollie. “Right now? This would be an excellent time for a selfie.” Then he turns to me. “I think we’d better go.”
I nod. “Yep.” But before I leave I lean in close to Megan. “You’re pathetic,” I say. “And I’m not the only person who thinks so.”
Then Elliot and I turn and we run.
We don’t stop running until we’re up by the station. I clutch my side and try to catch my breath.
“Oh my God, that was epic!” Elliot gasps. “Even my favorite revenge fantasies aren’t that good.”