Inside, everyone is waiting. Elliot rushes up to me and pulls me to a stop. “Don’t freak out,” he says.
“What do you mean?” I frown. But then he steps to one side.
Megan is standing behind him.
And she’s wearing the exact same dress as me.
Chapter Three
I wrap my jacket even tighter round my body, covering my dress. Megan smiles serenely, looking surprisingly cool about it, but that’s probably because I’ve already turned tomato red with embarrassment. I almost turn round and walk out of the restaurant right there and then, but Elliot grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze.
“Oh my god, Penny, we’re wearing identical dresses!” Megan says, tossing her long chestnut hair. “Did you find this on ASOS too? Better make sure Noah doesn’t see me first or else he might get confused and give me the backstage pass.” She gives me an exaggerated wink that turns my stomach. I can’t help thinking she looks way better in the dress than I do.
“Grow up, Megan. It’s just a dress—not a brain transplant to make you a nicer person,” snaps Elliot.
Kira is sitting at the table behind Megan. She gives me an apologetic smile and a shrug. A sharp pain jabs my heart as I wonder if Kira told Megan about the dress I ordered. But then I tell myself not to be so paranoid.
“Glad you could make it, Penny!” says Kira. “Is Noah going to join us?”
I can sense everyone turn to look at me, even from the other tables. I laugh nervously. “Oh, I don’t think so. Noah is too busy prepping for the show. I’ll meet him after.”
Elliot pulls me through the restaurant and into a booth as far away from them as we can be without seeming rude. It feels like my entire school and half of Elliot’s is coming to watch the concert. Of course they are all excited to see Noah Flynn, but the main band, The Sketch, are massive at the moment. They’re a group of four boys from the US who exploded onto the scene last year with their song “There’s Only One.” They’ve already done gigs in Manchester and Birmingham, but this is the first one that Noah is joining. He’s then heading off with The Sketch to Europe, and I get to go with him.
My stomach flutters with nervous but excited butterflies.
I slide into the booth and Elliot sits down opposite me. “Ugh, I can’t believe we have to be in the same room as Mega-Nasty,” says Elliot. “Why did you agree to meet everyone here again?”
“Kira invited me and I couldn’t think of a way out of it. They’re all coming to the concert so it made sense for us to go together. Besides, it’s the Brighton Centre. It’s so big that hopefully we won’t even see them,” I say.
“Did you know the Brighton Centre can seat four and a half thousand people, and was the last venue Bing Crosby performed in before he died?”
“Is that the guy who sang ‘White Christmas’? How do you know all this stuff, Wiki?” I say with a laugh.
“I know everything, Miss Penny P. You know that. At least we’ll be sitting in the VIP box,” says Elliot, flashing his ticket and grinning. “First class, here we come!” He bum-dances on the bench. “Wow, if we’re this excited, how is Noah feeling?”
“Oh, Noah never gets nervous!” Though, as I’m saying it, I don’t know if it’s true. I’ve never seen him perform properly before—not in front of an audience this big. “I know he’s super excited. This is his chance to really make it big in Europe.”
“Yeah, there’s no way people won’t know his name after he’s played with The Sketch. Even someone like you would know who he was!”
I smile, but Elliot’s words have disconcerted me. It’s strange to think that only six months ago I had no idea who Noah Flynn was, and now everyone is about to know him. I almost lost myself to the media storm before. Will I be able to hold on to Noah throughout the whirlwind that’s to come?
“Have you met the rest of his band?” Elliot asks.
I shake my head. “Not yet, but I know he’s got some of his best friends with him.”
“I really wish I could come with you,” says Elliot, his eyes downcast.
“I wish you could come too! But you’re going to have an amazing time at CHIC,” I remind him. Elliot’s been looking forward to his internship since he found out at the start of the year that he got it.
“Did you know CHIC was started in 1895?”
I reach over the table and put my hand over Elliot’s. I know when he’s spouting facts out of nerves rather than for fun. “You’re going to be brilliant,” I say, reassuring him.
The waitress comes by and asks for our order, but I feel so nervous I can’t bear to eat. I bury my face in my menu and we ask for a few more minutes, but almost instantly I wish that she’d stayed. Behind her is the person I dread.
“Hey, Penny.”
I lower my menu slowly. “Uh, hi, Megan.”
Elliot is throwing daggers at her with his eyes, but Megan ignores him. Instead, she focuses on me. “I’m sorry we’re wearing the same dress—do you want me to change? I can run home before the concert.”
Now this is a side of Megan that I’m not expecting: the sweet, friendly side. For a moment I get a glimpse of the girl I used to know. But I find it hard to separate that girl from the one who tried to destroy my life earlier this year—like two photographs overlaid on top of each other, a real-life double exposure. I still don’t know which one is the real Megan.
“No, it’s OK. It’s kind of funny, actually,” I say.
She smiles at me, and it seems genuine. “So, I was wondering . . .” she says, and suddenly her smile has become sharklike—all teeth—and it’s clear she’s got an ulterior motive for coming over. “Do you think you could get me, Kira, and Amara backstage later? I would absolutely die if I got to meet The Sketch.”
I frown. Elliot tuts out loud and rolls his eyes. “Oh, I don’t know . . . I’d have to ask Noah,” I say.
“Well, why don’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
She raises an eyebrow. “Why don’t you text him and ask? You do have your boyfriend’s number, don’t you?”
“Penny doesn’t have to do any favours for you,” says Elliot.
“I wasn’t asking you, Elliot,” she snaps back. “I’m asking my friend.”
“Um, OK . . .” I start to take my phone out of my pocket, but Elliot stops me with a glare. I take several deep breaths and then I look back up at Megan. “I’ll ask Noah later, but I can’t make any promises,” I tell her. My phone remains firmly out of sight.
Megan hesitates. When she sees that I’m not going to change my mind, she shrugs, trying to act as if it’s not a big deal. “Well, thanks—hopefully see you later, Penny.” She flounces off, still smiling at me. But the way she snapped at Elliot makes me realize that she hasn’t changed at all.
Now I do get my phone out of my pocket, and I read my latest text conversation with Noah.
Can’t wait to see you tonight! N
Me neither! It’s been way too long xxxx
Almost as if Noah knows I’m reading his texts, a new message from him pops up on my phone.
How are you getting to the concert?
I quickly type in a reply.
I’m walking to the Brighton Centre with Elliot and some friends from school xxxx
No you’re not. N
I frown at his message.
“What’s up?” asks Elliot, spotting my confused expression.
I show him the screen. “What does he mean, ‘No you’re not’? How else does he expect me to get to the concert?”
Elliot shrugs, but then his mouth forms an O of surprise. His eyes widen as he stares past me towards the front of the restaurant.
“What is it?” I ask.
Even before I’ve finished asking the question, shrieks and squeals of delight surround us. I hear Kira scream, “NOAH FLYNN!” and I sit up straight in my seat and spin round.
There he is: my boyfriend, Noah Flynn. Rock god extraordinaire. He’s wearing his trademark black T-shirt, ripped jeans, and
a big smile. Seeing him makes the rest of the world—the restaurant, my schoolmates, even Elliot—just melt away. Like a camera pulling focus, suddenly the rest of the world looks blurry while he stands out, clear and sharp.
He spots me and grins even wider. He saunters over to the booth, ignoring the squeals and slack-jawed stares of the girls at the other tables, grabs both of my hands, and pulls me up from the bench. “Penny Porter, do you mind if I steal you away?”
“Not at all!” I say, wanting nothing more than to disappear with him. But then I quickly remember and turn back to Elliot. “Wait, do you mind?”
Elliot laughs. “Go ahead, Pennylicious! I don’t really want a burger anyway—I’m thinking about going vegan.” He lowers his voice. “I’ll go find Alex. I’ve been apart from him for about half an hour and already I think I might die.” He steps out of the booth too, and Noah gives him a big hug.
“Elliot, my man! Good to see you.”
“Good to see you too, Noah! You’re going to kill it tonight.” Elliot turns to me. “Don’t forget me when you’re off with the rich and famous, OK, Penny?”
“Never! I’ll see you at the concert.” I grin, then grab Noah’s outstretched hand. Followed by the gawping looks of all my friends, we walk out of the restaurant and over to a waiting car. It’s concert time.
Chapter Four
Standing by the passenger door of the nondescript black car, holding a big black umbrella, is a big, burly man with a bald head so shiny I’m almost certain I can touch up my makeup in it.
“This is Larry,” Noah says. “He might look intimidating, but actually he sings along to Whitney Houston songs in his spare time and would choose a bubble bath over a shower most days.” Noah gives his bodyguard a friendly punch in the arm as we pass him to get in. “Isn’t that right, Larry?”
“You got me, sir,” he says. “And you must be Penny?” He gives me a friendly wink and I instantly feel at ease. I know why Noah wanted to reassure me about him—he looks like the sort of man you might see standing at the doors of a nightclub on a Friday night, keeping everyone in order. From what Noah just said, though, perhaps he’d most likely be found inside the club—at the karaoke machine, dancing around with a pink cocktail in hand—than outside it, pulling fights apart.
I’m imagining him belting out “I Will Always Love You” as I reply: “Hello! Yes, nice to meet you, Whitney.” I hold out my hand, but my face flushes red as I realize what I’ve just called him. This was not the introduction to Noah’s entourage that I had pictured! What ever happened to sophistication, intelligence, or even normal words? Straightaway I stammer out an apology, trying to rescue the situation, but Noah steps in.
“You’re definitely not the first to call him that, Pen,” Noah says, laughing.
Larry gives me a wink and a smirk. “Well, from now on, Penny, you can call me Whitney. Just don’t go expecting any sing-along sessions, unless you’re willing to join in.” Larry hops into the driver’s seat while I nervously laugh along with him.
Although the drive to the Brighton Centre isn’t very long, it feels good to finally be with Noah. He slides over into the middle seat to sit beside me, his arm wrapped round my shoulders.
“It feels so good to have you next to me!” he says, squeezing me close. “How did your exams go?”
I shudder. “Don’t ask,” I say. “But they’re over now. I can’t believe it’s time already!”
I lean into his chest and feel his heart beating; I can’t help but think this is way better than Skype. I stare up at his chiselled jaw, messy dark hair, and deep brown eyes. How did I get so lucky? I’m normally the unlucky girl who’s always caught in the rain without an umbrella, who never has her number drawn in the school raffle, and who always loses at Monopoly. Maybe life has been storing up all my wins just for this: so I can be with Noah.
“Are you excited for tonight?” He squeezes my hand and I realize I’ve been staring at him in awe, like a complete weirdo.
“Oh . . . Yes! I can’t believe it. You’re opening for a band so big that even I’ve heard of them!” Noah’s face goes a bit white, and I realize I must not be helping his nerves. “You’re going to be amazing, I know it. Are you nervous?”
“I’d be lying if I said no, but I’m mostly just pumped. This has been my dream since I was twelve, and now I get to do it all, and with the best girlfriend on the planet.” He lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses it, and I blush a deep red. “I guess my only wish is that my parents were here to see it, you know?” Noah turns to look out of the rain-streaked window as we pass the seafront, dark and grey under the thick clouds, and I feel a deep pang of sadness for him.
His parents died in a tragic skiing accident only a few years ago, and I knew the pain was still fresh for Noah. He and his younger sister, Bella, went to live with their grandmother, the wonderful Sadie Lee, but I knew there would always be a hole in his heart big enough to hold the ocean, a hole that only his music could help to fill.
“They are incredibly proud of you, Noah, I’m sure of it.” I squeeze his hand back and he turns to look at me with a smile. “How are Sadie Lee and Bella?” I ask.
“Oh, they’re great. Bella’s starting first grade this September, and G-ma has her hands full with her catering business. G-ma also gave me a box of chocolate-chip cookies for you that should have just survived the flight over—but you’ll have to eat them quick! I’ve got them in my dressing room.”
“She’s so sweet!” I feel like drooling at simply the thought of Sadie Lee’s cookies—they are seriously the best I’ve ever tasted—then I quickly lift my hand to my mouth in case I actually am drooling. That’s just what Noah needs to see: his girlfriend as a drooling, unsexy mess. But Noah laughs. Then he reaches up and cups my chin, pulling me forward gently, and we kiss for the first time in three months. Oh my gosh, I have missed this boy so much that it almost kills me.
“I’ve really missed you, my gorgeous, goofy autumn girl,” he says, as if he’s reading my mind.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve missed you more. In fact, I’m willing to bet on it.”
“You don’t strike me as a betting girl, Penny. I mean, three hours at those 2p machines you told me about is pushing it . . .” He raises his eyebrows and winks at me, then leans back in his seat and gives me an appreciative look up and down. “I really love that dress on you, by the way.”
“Thanks, I really like those dimples on you . . .”
“Well, you’re going to be seeing these dimples a lot more while we’re away on tour together. I’m so happy that you decided to do this with me, Pen. It’s going to be the greatest adventure.”
“Well, adventures are my favourite . . . once we get past the flying part!” I laugh, although it doesn’t quite cover up the nerves I feel at the thought of all the planes we’ll have to take on the tour. Noah recognizes this in my eyes almost immediately.
“I promise you that I will look after you. We’re going to have the best time.”
His reassuring words bring a smile to my face. I can’t believe I was so worried that things wouldn’t be the same between us. In fact, I have a feeling things are going to be even better than before. “Hey, Larry—are we close?” Noah asks, craning his neck to see out of the front windscreen, the fast-moving wipers and thick drops of rain doing their best to obscure the view.
“Just round the corner,” Larry replies.
“Can we drive past the front? I want to see the turnout.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Noah grins at me, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. It’s a look I recognize from when we first met—and the end result was that he showed me all his favourite New York places. I don’t know what he’s up to, but I’m intrigued.
The road outside the Brighton Centre is packed with people already queuing to enter, and Larry has to slow to a crawl to drive past. The crowd must be at least ten people deep, some in colourful macs, others huddling together under umbrellas to avoid getting compl
etely drenched. All of a sudden I feel a wave of anxiety come over me at the intensity of what I am seeing. My boyfriend is Noah Flynn. All these people are going to be watching him sing onstage, and if they don’t already know who he is they will after tonight. Some of them are even holding handmade banners that say: MARRY ME, NOAH; WE LOVE YOU, NOAH; and LET ME BE YOUR SUMMER GIRL.
Then I relax. I don’t mind that someone wants to be his “summer girl” (after all, I’m quite happy in the knowledge I’m his all-seasons girl now). I think about how lovely it is that he has so many supporters when he is the opening act for such a huge band. Most of these girls will only know him because of YouTube, and each one will have played a part in making him as successful as he is. Of course, there are a lot of people who are only there to see The Sketch—it helps that all four members look as though they have stepped out of a poster for Abercrombie & Fitch. I feel a huge sense of pride for Noah and this crazy journey he is about to embark on, and I do a little wiggle of happiness at the thought that I will be by his side along the way.
Noah clicks open his seat belt and I stare at him in alarm. “What are you doing?” I ask.
“I’m going to go out and say hello!”
“But it’s pouring outside!” I say, stating the obvious.
“I don’t care! I could probably do with a shower anyway . . . and guess what!” He holds out his hand. “You’re coming with me.”
“What?” I say, my eyes opening wide.
“I want everyone to see us together, and I want you to experience this with me. Be back in a second, Larry.”
The car pulls to a stop, and Noah leaps out, dragging me behind him. I hesitate at the door, but then I see Noah’s beaming smile and it gives me strength. I grab my bag, pull my camera from it, and jump out of the car.
My ears are pummelled with the shrill sound of fans screaming his name, and they wave frantically as he walks towards them.
There is something really magical about watching Noah chatting away with his fans. His face lights up, and he just doesn’t care that he is getting wet and his hair is getting messier and curlier by the second. He’s in his element.