All That Glitters (41 page)

“What
is
this? Is it some kind of hymn?”

I turn to Steve and quickly make the international
next track
circle-finger gesture. The entire crowd follows my eyes.

“Is that your
dad
?” “Your
dad
is the DJ?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I laugh, shaking my head. “Please! As if I’d invite my
dad
to my own party! That’s Steve.”

“Steve … Steve the school
caretaker
?”

“All right there, spring-chickens!” he yells, bopping up and down to what is now
Waiting For a Star to Fall.
“DJ Earthling rocking the microphone for the free-range stylers!”

There are a few giggles.

Steve’s
spinning
skills may be top-notch but I might quietly ask him to hold back on the comedy.

“Isn’t it
brilliant
?” Lydia says, picking up the night-light and holding it in the air. “Isn’t this just the best party
ever
? When I’m in sixth form I’m going to have one
exactly
like it except with even
more
chocolate and also
Galaxy
bars because Harriet forgot about them.”

There’s a short silence while everyone in the room stares at her. “Hang on – is she …” “Are they
first
years?” “Are there
eleven-
year-olds at this party?”

“She’s twelve, actually,” Fee says, pointing at Keira, the quietest of the four. “She was twelve last week.”

“
Lydia?
” Chloe says in alarm, stepping out of the crowd in a glitzy blue strapless number. “What the hell are
you
doing here?”

Lydia folds her arms. “Mum said I could come as long as she could collect me at half nine and you’re not allowed to say
hell
, Clobo, so
there.
”

“
Mum
’s turning up at half nine?” Chloe’s cheeks are going purple and she turns round to a now-giggling-again group in a fury. “
Shut
it. I’d like to see
your
kid sisters turning up to ruin everything.”

I can feel my stomach starting to get tense and cement-y again. It hadn’t occurred to me that my peers might not actually want the first years here. Isn’t the expression
the more the merrier
? I mean, we were all first years once, weren’t we? Exactly how much can change in five years, anyway?

Quite a lot, judging by my classmates’ expressions.

“I invited them,” I start protectively as the four begin to look in a panic at the exit. “It’s my fault, they’re here because I asked them, and they’re actually really sweet and—”

“And they’re welcome.” India walks firmly to my side. “This is a great party, it was kind of you to invite everyone and we’re all really happy to be here,
aren’t we
.”

This isn’t a question, by the way. She’s telling everyone they’re happy to be here.

It seems to work. Some of the netball team start to mill by the drinks table, Robert picks up a sandwich.

“But of
course
we are
,
” someone says. “We didn’t mean it like
that,
Retzer! Don’t be silly!” “We were just surprised, that’s all.” “It’s a really
nice
gesture, Retty.” “This is the
sweetest
party ever!”

“It’s so
awesome
,” Ananya says loudly, pushing through to my other side and linking arms with me. “We’re
so
impressed, Ret. With your … er … outfit too. And I love what you’ve done with the theme! Such a clever pun!”

“
Hilarious!
” Liv agrees, standing slightly behind me. “You’re
so
smart, Retty. And
so
generous.”

A flush of intense gratitude rushes through me.

Nat was wrong. I’m not sure what she thought these girls were using me for, exactly, but these are my comrades. My posse. My gang.

My
friends.

Although – I have to be honest – not for the first time I’m not entirely sure what Ananya’s talking about.
What
clever pun?

This party is the most literal thing I’ve ever done.

“Ah
shoot
,” Steve says, looking around him in confusion. “I’ve left my box of CDs at home. Back in twenty mins, party people. I’ve put Now Eighteen on to keep you all going in the meantime.”

There are a few more little sniggers as he tries to high-five three or four students on the way out.

“
So
,” Ananya says as Steve disappears out of the wooden door. “
Tell
us all about the stars, Retty. Everyone is just
dying
to know.”

Really?

I beam at the now silent, awestruck crowd in front of me. I’ve been preparing for this question for ages.

All my life, some might say.

“OK,” I say happily, taking a deep breath. “The closest star to earth is obviously the sun, which is four point six billion years old and a yellow dwarf measuring one million, three hundred and ninety-two—”

“You’re so
hysterical
, but I mean the
other
ones.”

I stare at Ananya. “What other ones?”

“The
other
stars.”

“Umm.” She’s very impatient: I was just getting round to them. “Uh, OK. There’s Alpha Centauri, which is the second closest star … to earth but … actually consists of three …”

I gradually slow to a halt.

Everybody’s looking really confused now. What on
earth
is going on?

Why does everyone keep glancing at the door?

“
Harriet
,” Ananya says finally, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Just tell us when all the celebrities are getting here.”

n 1961, the Museum of Modern Art in New York hung Matisse’s painting
Le Bateau
upside down for forty-seven days before a stockbroker finally noticed.

That’s exactly how I feel now.

As if I’ve been looking at everything the wrong way up this whole time and I didn’t have a clue.

Night of Stars.

My second hand is never going to tick again: that’s how slowly everything is now moving.

“C-c-celebrities?” I stutter faintly.

“Yes,” Liv squeaks, hopping up and down. “All the hot models and the actorsandthepopstarsandpeople offtellyohmyGodthisis
so
excitingIdon’tknowifIcaneven containmyselfanylongerand—”

“
Olivia
.” Ananya glares at her. “For God’s sake. Will you
ever
be cool?” She looks back at me and smiles, except now I’m noticing for the first time it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. In fact, I’m not totally sure it ever actually has. “They’re all coming late, of
course
. They’re
famous. Obviously
they’re not going to get here on time. But who do you think will make it?”

Is everyone coming? Will I know them all?

I stare at Ananya blankly, then at the crowd still looking at me. All the excitement. All the sparkle. All the pretty dresses. All the lipstick and heels and eyelashes. All the
bow ties
. They’re not for me at all. They think this is a party of
stars
.
OF.
STARS.

Oh my God.

I’ve done it again, haven’t I.

This is
just
like the dinosaur biscuits, except I’ve somehow managed to turn a horrible misunderstanding into an entire evening’s entertainment.

With a sickening jolt, my brain is starting to replay conversations from school all week.

Oh yes, lots of the stars are single! Most of them in fact!

Actually most stars are pretty much the same, believe it or not: some are just much bigger than others.

Of course I know the really massive ones!

I think I might vomit. I
knew
my love of astronomy would get me into trouble one day.

Quick, Harriet. Be bold.

“I’ve got a quiz for us,” I say desperately, rushing over to the microphone and grabbing it in my sweaty hand. “There’s a handmade cake for the winning team! Umm.” My knees are literally starting to tremble. “First question – what are stars primarily made of?” I clear my throat. “Anyone? Anyone at all?”

Nobody answers.

“It’s hydrogen and helium!” I squeak. My voice is so high now I think I may have eaten one. “Second question – which of the following is
not
a star: a) a red giant, b) a white dwarf …”

“Oh my God,” somebody says flatly. “She means stars. Actual stars. It’s not a pun.”

“This is
it
. This
is
the party. It’s just us.”

“With
jelly
.” “With a
caretaker
.” “And hymns.” “And
first
years.” “And a baby’s
night-light.
”

“
Such
a geek.”

“It’s a green dwarf!” I say loudly, except the microphone is starting to make little
thd thd thd
noises from where my hand is shaking. “Next question – what category does our sun fall int—”

“Hang on.” Ananya walks forward and takes the microphone off me. “Harriet, are you saying that
none
of your celebrity friends are coming this evening? Like at
all
? Why the hell
not
?”

OK: firstly, it looks like I’m back to being
Harriet
again. Secondly, I can’t believe I’ve got myself into a situation where this is even a question I’m actually being asked.

“Because I don’t
have
any.”

There’s a short silence, then several people pipe up. “What do you mean you …” “But you
said
…” “We
asked
and you told us …” “You
lied
to us.”

“I didn’t lie,” I say in bewilderment. “You asked if I knew any models and I said yes because I do. I’ve met
lots.
But they’re not my
friends
.”

“But what about Poppy Page?”

“She hates me,” I admit. The last time I saw Princess Poppy she literally asked me to leave the country. “Passionately. Like, I’m her least favourite person in the world.”

“Yuka Ito?”

“The last time I was in the same place as her she fired me. So probably not.” I glance around at my bits of black crepe paper. “Honestly, I’m not sure she’d have come to this even if she hadn’t.”

“
What about the Russian supermodels, where are the Russian supermodels, I want to meet the Russian supermodels
.”

That’s Eric. Obviously.

“They’re not coming.” My cheeks are now bright red. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise you thought … I didn’t know … They don’t like me either.”

There’s a long silence.

Then the students clustered closest to Ananya and Liv erupt into disappointed cries. “But she said she went to all the
parties
.” “Oh my God, I broke up with my boyfriend for
this
?” “Isn’t she supposed to be loaded?” “Why are we eating home-made biscuits
again
?”

“But at least
Nick’s
coming, right?” Liv says, frowning. “I mean your famous supermodel
boyfriend
will be here, won’t he? With his face and his hair and his hip bones and all his beautiful supermodel single friends?”

And this is exactly what happens when you don’t tell the truth, even to yourself.

Everything starts to fall apart.

That’s what they’re all here for, isn’t it.

Ananya, Liv, India, the others … They’re here for Nick and beautiful Russian supermodels. For Nick’s non-existent identical twin brother and famous designers and celebrities and clothes and all the glamour and glitz they think go with being a successful model.

I’ve been such an idiot.

They didn’t look at the Tokyo photos and see a confident, inspiring girl they wanted to get to know better. They didn’t see another, less geeky side to me: a brave, starry version I so badly wanted to live up to in real life.

They just saw the glittery lifestyle they thought the girl in the lake had, and they wanted a piece of it.