Acting Friends (7 page)

I pursed my lips. ‘I think all of that is kind of doing something wrong . . . because . . . you didn’t really mean any of it, did you?’

Frankie stared at me. He was blushing nearly as deep a red as Grace now.

‘Why did you take your picture with each of us?’

Emmi demanded.

‘Why did you say you’d see us again – then not take anyone’s phone number?’ Shaz added.

Grace turned to me. ‘Frankie was talking with all of you as well?’

‘Oh, yes,’ I said. ‘Pretending he liked all of us.’

‘I
do
like all of you,’ Frankie protested. ‘It’s just . . .’

‘Just
what
?’ Emmi said.

Frankie bit his lip. ‘It was a bet.’

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‘A
bet?
’
I shook my head. What was he talking about?

Emmi gasped. ‘You mean, you took our pictures so that you could show someone else you’d been talking to us?’

Frankie hung his head. ‘Yeah, me and the guys on the movie bet each other how many girls we could get our picture taken with,’ he said miserably.

‘So why didn’t you say that?’ I insisted. ‘At least that would have been honest, rather than going around . . .
collecting
us like we were stamps or something.’

Frankie shrugged. I stared at him. He suddenly seemed very young . . . and a bit silly. Not that different from my little brother, really.

I looked around. The smells and sounds of the funfair room filled my head. Shrieks and squeals from the go-karting area . . . a whiff of fried onions . . .

the ping of the strong man bell as someone hit down hard with the mallet . . .

A small knot of disappointment settled in my guts. I wasn’t sad anymore that Frankie wasn’t really interested in me. Just that he wasn’t what I’d thought.

He was only an ordinary boy – not worth having a big crush on.

‘Er, I’m . . . I’m sorry.’ Frankie fidgeted from foot 69

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to foot. ‘I can still email you the photos I took, if you’d like.’

‘Don’t bother,’ Emmi said. ‘I don’t want your stupid picture.’

‘Me neither,’ Shaz said.

I sighed as it struck me that the fortune teller must have been totally wrong. Frankie’s name did begin with an ‘F’ and he was definitely an actor –

but no way was he my ‘true love’. And in that moment I realised I had nothing to be embarrassed about. Nor did any of the others. It wasn’t our fault Frankie was a bit of an idiot. That was his problem.

‘Bye, Frankie,’ I said. ‘Have fun at your party.’

Frankie slunk away. Emmi, Grace and I looked at each other, then at Shaz. She’d been okay just then, while we’d been talking to Frankie. Not bitchy or mean at all.

She took a step away from us. I watched her closely. She was frowning, her face screwed up in a nasty scowl. But I was sure she was feeling more awkward than hostile.

‘Shaz,’ I said. ‘Do you want to get some candy floss with us?’

Shaz opened and closed her mouth. She nodded.

The four of us set off across the floor. We got some candy floss from the stall then went back into 70

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the first room. The music was a little quieter in here, and the room was full of adults talking to each other.

I suddenly couldn’t wait to get back to Emmi’s and have fun with the others, chatting about the party and school and all the things that were becoming part of my new, grown-up life. I took my purse out of my bag and tore the photo of Frankie Clarke off the plastic.

‘Good call,’ Shaz said.

I smiled, then took out my new phone. ‘I’m replacing the picture of him on this, too,’ I said. I held the mobile out in front of me, huddling closer to Emmi and Grace. We bent our heads together.

‘Come on, Shaz,’ I said. ‘You can be in the picture too.’

She walked behind me and squatted slightly so her head was at the same level as mine.

I took the picture. It was a good one. Shaz looked kind of elegant, Grace looked sweetly demure, Emmi looked really pretty and even I didn’t look too hideous.

‘My dad will be here to pick us up in about twenty minutes,’ Emmi said.

I nodded. Shaz shuffled from foot to foot.

‘D’you want a lift, Shaz?’ I asked. ‘I’m sure Emmi’s dad won’t mind.’

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‘You can come back to mine if you’d like,’ Emmi added.

‘Thanks, but I have to get home,’ Shaz said. She sounded a bit awkward but I could see she was pleased to be asked.

Emmi and Grace wandered away to get a last drink each. I was about to follow them, when Shaz pulled her jacket around her chest and I remembered Emmi’s cardigan was
still
in Madame van Persiana’s fortune-telling hut.

‘I just need to fetch something,’ I said.

‘I’ll come with you,’ Shaz said.

We set off towards the hut.

‘River?’ Shaz stammered as we reached the funfair room.

‘Yeah?’ I said.

‘I’m sorry I was so nasty to you,’ she said quietly.

‘I was . . . I was a bit jealous, to be honest . . .’

I stopped. The music was loud in here and the smells from the hot dog stand filled my nostrils.

Shaz was
jealous?
What was she talking about?

‘Huh?’ I said.

Shaz shrugged. ‘You reminded me of me that first day of school, walking in all nervous like I did last year. But
you
looked really good. You’re so pretty, especially in that top you’ve got on.’

I stared at her, completely shocked.

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‘I hated that first day,’ Shaz went on. ‘I mean, I was coming into year seven
again
. And all my friends were in year eight. It . . . it wasn’t fair.’ Shaz paused.

‘Anyway, I just wanted . . . to . . . to explain. And to tell you I’ll be out of your hair soon . . . I mean, away from Langton...’

I frowned. Her older sister had said something similar earlier.

‘Why are you leaving school?’ I said. ‘Where are you going?’

Shaz looked embarrassed. She wiped her hand across her face, pushing back a strand of red hair.

‘We’ve got to move because Mum and Dad spent all their money taking me to America for an operation last year.’

My mouth fell open. I knew Shaz had been ill –

that was one of the first things I’d found out about her – but not that she’d had to travel for an operation.

‘All the way to America?’ I said.

Shaz nodded. ‘We couldn’t get it done here,’ she said. ‘And it was good, I mean the operation worked. But Dad had to remortgage the house so . . . now we have to sell it and move somewhere smaller.’

‘Oh, Shaz,’ I said. I couldn’t imagine how hard that must be, to know that your whole family was affected because you’d been ill. I wanted to ask Shaz 73

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what had been wrong with her. But it seemed too pushy. Shaz looked uncomfortable enough with the conversation as it was.

‘When are you going?’ I asked.

‘Half term,’ Shaz said.

We walked on and were soon at Madame van

Persiana’s hut. I peered inside. The hut was empty, but Emmi’s cardigan was on the chair where I’d left it. I darted inside and picked it up.

‘Did you see the fortune teller?’ Shaz asked as I walked out.

‘Yeah, she was bonkers,’ I said.

‘What did she tell you?’

‘Stuff about me meeting some guy . . . how it would all be passionate and we’d be the loves of each other’s lives . . . just fortune-telling rubbish.’

Shaz grinned. ‘You never know,’ she said. ‘When did she say you’d meet this guy?’

I frowned, trying to remember. Madame van Persiana had said it would be some time in the future, hadn’t she? Though that didn’t fit with his name starting with ‘F’ and being into acting – which was clearly Frankie. Though she’d been totally wrong about Frankie too.

‘It was stupid,’ I said. ‘Total rubbish.’

‘Don’t be so sure,’ Shaz said. ‘She told me I was going to make a new friend tonight.’

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I grinned. ‘Well, I guess there’s still time for that,’

I said.

Shaz laughed. We walked back to Emmi and

Grace.

‘When we get back I’m going to order in pizza,’

Emmi announced as we left the party. ‘Then we’re going through my clothes to see what suits you and what doesn’t, River.’

‘Oooh, that’ll be fun,’ Grace enthused.

‘Why me?’ I grumbled.

‘Because right now you think all sorts of stuff suits you that just makes you look like you’re wearing a tent,’ Emmi said with a wink.

‘Whoa, save some stuff for me,’ Shaz said. ‘You have awesome clothes, Emmi.’

‘Yeah, we could do swaps,’ Grace said.

We stood outside on the pavement. As Emmi waved to her dad, I smiled down at the picture of the four of us on my phone. Was it only last week that I’d wondered if I’d ever fit in at Langton Girls Grammar?

I might not have found the love of my life yet, but I did have something important. Three ‘somethings’, in fact.

My new friends.

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If you enjoyed

Acting Friends
,

find out what happens to River

and her friends when they’re

a few years older in

Falling Fast
,

out now!

Will River ever fall in love

with the mysterious F?

Read on for the first chapter . . .

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I stared out of the minibus window. It was raining and the pavements were a glistening grey. The houses and sky above were a softer, paler grey.

Grey. Dull. Boring. Like me. Like my life.

Maybe today would change everything.

Maybe.

Emmi peered past me. ‘I think we’re nearly there,’

she said. ‘So, River . . . you decided yet if you’re gonna try for it?’

I swallowed. ‘It’ meant Juliet in
Romeo and Juliet
.

We were on our way to auditions at St Cletus’s – a local boys’ secondary school that had invited year 10s and 11s from our girls’ school to try out for the female parts in the play.

Juliet was the main girl’s part, of course. But that wasn’t why I wanted it.

I looked out of the window again. The rain was Acting Friends CS5.indd 79

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falling harder now. I could hear it drumming on the minibus roof even over the excitable chatter inside.

There were about fifteen of us, mostly girls doing drama GCSE with Ms Yates or in her after-school drama group. For everyone else, I was sure, the auditions were just a laugh.

But not to me. I wanted to be Juliet in the play, because I wanted to be Juliet in real life.

I wanted to be in love. To be loved.

I was just sixteen and I’d never met a boy I really liked. I mean, I’d met a few I quite fancied and more than a few who were fun to chat to. But I’d never felt what you could possibly describe as love. I spent a lot of time imagining it, though.

Imagining what he would look like. Tall and square-jawed, I thought. With deep, soft brown eyes that would melt me with their gaze, and dark, wavy hair curling onto his neck. He wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off me. We’d move towards each other like magnets. Then we would talk and talk, discovering all the things we had in common, sharing our hopes and fears and dreams. And then, finally, we would kiss. A slow, deep, romantic . . .

‘Hel-lo, River.’ Emmi’s amused voice broke through my thoughts. ‘Are you going to audition for Juliet or not?’

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I glanced at Emmi’s heart-shaped, dimpled face.

My best friend had a sharp prettiness – all sparkling dark eyes and dramatically-long, shiny hair. Unlike me, she was relaxed and confident. She was the obvious choice for Juliet.

But I knew she was the wrong one.

Whoever played Juliet had to at least be able to imagine what it would be like to really fall in love with someone else. I was pretty sure Emmi was no more able to do that than she was to stop flirting with every guy she met.

‘Don’t see why not,’ I shrugged, trying to look unbothered about the whole audition process. ‘I mean, if you’re going for a speaking part, you might as well try for all of them. Not that I really care who I end up playing.’

Emmi grinned. ‘Yeah, right, Riv.’

I shrugged again and went back to the window.

My face burned. Trust Emmi to have seen right through me.

The minibus was pulling into a huge, mostly empty car park. Directly in front stood a large concrete school block. It looked deserted. I checked the time on my phone. Four p.m.

‘Guess all the boys have gone home,’ Emmi said.

She sounded disappointed.

‘Good.’ I stood up and joined the queue to get Acting Friends CS5.indd 81

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off the minibus. ‘The last thing we need is an audience.’

Emmi laughed. ‘Isn’t an audience exactly what we’re here for?’

We got off the minibus and milled awkwardly in the car park. The rain had lightened to a soft drizzle. The absolute worst kind of weather for my hair, which gets all frizzy at the first sign of moisture.

A tall, very thin man with a high forehead and slicked back dark hair came striding towards us. A boy in the St Cletus school uniform of black trousers, white shirt and black-and-green striped tie trotted awkwardly beside him.

Ms Yates smiled nervously. ‘That’s Mr Nichols, the head of drama,’ she said.

‘Hello there,’ the man boomed. For such a thin person, his voice was surprisingly deep. ‘I’m Mr Nichols. Welcome to St Cletus’s.’ He beamed round at us all, casting a particularly warm smile at Ms Yates. ‘Now let’s get you in out of the rain.’ He flung his arms out to indicate the boy beside him. ‘If anyone needs the bathroom, James Molloy here will show you to the Ladies.’