Girl Online (20 page)

And for all the new followers of this blog
(thank you, by the way!!)
you might want to check out my previous posts
Disastrous and Dateless
and
Pothole of Doom
to see that this kind of thing doesn’t happen to me. Ever!

I’m the kind of girl who falls into holes and starts jibbering like a nervous wreck in front of boys. They never like me—not
like
like me.

They only ever want to be my friend. Or give me Chinese burns. Or make fun of me.

But this morning I met a boy who seems to
like
like me
(I’m going to call him Brooklyn Boy)
. And it feels amazing because I haven’t had to pretend to be something I’m not. I haven’t had to try to be cool. I’ve totally been myself—and he still likes me.

Earlier today I was in a car with Brooklyn Boy and I started getting anxious again—in front of him.

But he didn’t think I was a freak. In fact, he was really lovely and he gave me some really cool advice that I want to share with you.

First of all, he told me that time is a great healer and that nothing lasts forever, not even the very worst things. And he should know because he lost two of the people closest to him a few years ago.

He also told me that when he lost those people, it made him get really anxious about losing the other people he loved. In the end he went to see a counselor who gave him an exercise to do whenever he started getting fearful.

Basically, it’s that whenever you get fearful or anxious you shouldn’t fight it. You should just . . . watch it in your body.

So, if your fear is making you feel all tense in your head, or sick in your stomach, or tight in your chest, you have to picture it as an actual shape and give it a color. And then just think to yourself that it’s OK to feel anxious and just allow it to be and it will start to fade away.

I haven’t tried it myself yet but Brooklyn Boy says it really helped him.

So, for all of you who posted about feeling anxious about different things, why don’t you try it yourself next time you feel that way? And I will too and then we can report back here on the blog.

I don’t know what the future is going to hold for me and Brooklyn Boy—I’m only here for another day—boo!

But I feel like something really special has happened between us.

And so I can’t believe that this is it. That I’ll never see him again.

Charming didn’t give up on Cinderella, did he? He kept on searching and searching until he was reunited with her and her slipper.

Because when you find someone who really likes you for you, and you really like them for them, you have to do all you can to not lose them.

I love you guys so much and I’m so grateful for all of your support.

Keep posting about facing your fears—and keep believing in fairy tales.

Girl Online, going offline xxx

Chapter Twenty-Three

“What, in the name of Godzilla, have you been up to?”

I open my eyes to see Elliot staring down at me through a pair of glasses with stars-and-stripes frames.

“What time is it?” I mumble, looking over to the window. It’s now dark outside and the New York skyline is twinkling away like the window of a jeweler’s shop. I must have slept away the whole rest of the afternoon.

“Time you told me what the hell you’ve been up to.” Elliot plonks himself down on my bed. “
Who
is Brooklyn Boy?”

“Oh.” I look at my laptop on the pillow next to me and everything comes back. Elliot must have read my blog post.

“I met him earlier. His grandma is doing the catering for the wedding.”

“What, and now you’re in love?”

“No, I . . .”

Elliot takes his phone from his pocket and starts reading from it. “ ‘Because when you find someone who really likes you for you, and you really like them for them, you have to do all you can not to lose them.’ ”

I cringe. It feels so over-the-top now that Elliot’s reading it in his most sarcastic voice. It also feels kind of unreal now that I’ve had a sleep, like maybe I dreamed the whole thing.

“Have you been drinking?” Elliot looks at me over the top of his glasses like a very stern doctor.

“No!”

“Brainwashed by a crazed cult?”

“No!”

“Then how can you be in love with this guy if you only just met him?”

“I’m not in love with him.” Disappointment starts seeping through my body like an icy fog. “We spent most of the day together and we really connected.” Oh God, now I sound like a gushing Hollywood actress being interviewed on
Oprah
.

Elliot frowns so hard I think his glasses might fall off. “You really connected?”

“Yes. We have a lot in common.”

“So, how old is he?”

“Eighteen.”

“Where does he go to college?”

“He doesn’t.”

“Oh, so what does he do?”

“Nothing. I don’t know. I think he’s on a gap year.” I’m beginning to feel like I’m being cross-examined by one of Elliot’s lawyer parents.

“Right, so you’ve met your soul mate but you didn’t actually find out what he does.”

“I was only with him for a few hours.”

Elliot gives me a knowing smile. He’s starting to really
wind me up now—why’s he being so mean? And to think I’d been looking forward to telling him all about Noah.

“We didn’t really bother with small talk,” I continue.

“Oh, really. So do your parents know about this?”

“No! There’s nothing to know.” I look at Elliot in alarm—he’d better not tell them.

“How can you say there’s nothing to know when you’ve put it all over the Internet?”

I sit up straight in bed and glare at him. “I haven’t put it all over the Internet. I blogged about it, that’s all. I thought it might help people facing their fears. He gave me some really good advice.”

Elliot glares back at me. “What about how I helped you on the plane? Why didn’t you blog about that?”

Suddenly, the truth dawns on me. Elliot’s jealous because he didn’t get a mention. “Oh, Elliot, I’m always blogging about you. What about the time you helped me pick a dress for the school prom? And the day you told me top-ten ways to style out a fall. I blogged about them, didn’t I?”

But Elliot just stares sulkily at the bed. “I can’t believe you blogged about him before telling me,” he mutters. “If I’d met someone who liked me for me, I’d have totally told you first.”

Now I feel really bad. I lean forward and touch him on the arm. “I did try to tell you. I’ve been dying to talk to you about it all day, but when I got back up here you were asleep.”

Elliot looks at me. “You could have woken me. And you could have returned my call earlier.”

“I’m sorry.” I feel heavy with disappointment now. “There’s no point getting all moody about it—I’ll probably never see him again.”

There’s a long, awkward silence and then Elliot places his hand over mine. “I’m sorry. It was just that when I got your blog update it made me feel a bit weird—a bit left out.”

“I could never leave you out of anything. You’re my best friend.” I pull Elliot into a hug.

Although Elliot and I have patched things up, I can’t help but feel slightly dejected. I so wanted to be able to talk through everything with him, to relive my magical day all over again, but how can I if it’s going to make him upset? Before either of us can say anything, there’s a knock on the door.

“Hey, daughter of mine,” Dad yells in a fake American accent even worse than Ollie’s. “D’ya wanna go eat?”

• • •

Dinner should have been really fun. We ended up going to Chinatown, to this restaurant called The Cheery Chopsticks, where the waiting staff were like pantomime actors. Everything they did was a grand performance, from the way they helped us off with our coats to the way they delivered the food to our table. But I couldn’t relax. Although Elliot was pretty much back to his normal self and Mum finally seemed relaxed about the wedding and actually looking forward to the big day, all I could think was, I shouldn’t have blogged about Noah. Elliot’s reaction had totally unnerved me. He’s never been negative about a blog I’ve posted in the whole time I’ve been writing Girl Online. Maybe it was really over-the-top and silly to write what I did. Maybe I read way too much into what happened with Noah. Maybe I just imagined the connection between us.

By the time we get back to the hotel, I’m determined to delete the post as soon as I get to my room. With every step
we take along the plushly carpeted corridor, all I can think is,
Delete, delete, delete
.

“What’s that outside your room, Pen?” Mum says.

Delete, delete, delete
. “What?”

“Did you order some room service?” Dad asks.

“Pretty weird room service,” Elliot mutters.

I look up and see a brown cardboard box on the floor by my door.

“Uh-oh! You don’t think it’s a bomb, do you?” Elliot says, looking at us all with wide eyes.

I frown at him. “Why would someone put a bomb outside my room?”

Elliot shrugs. “I don’t know. They might not be targeting you directly. They might have just chosen a room at random.”

I shake my head. Even though I am one of the unluckiest, most accident-prone people on the planet, I really think having my hotel room randomly bombed would be a step too far.

“It’s not a bomb,” Dad says. “It’s probably been left there by accident. We can call down to Reception and see if they know anything about it. Oh . . .”

I watch as Dad picks up the box. “What is it?”

“It is for you—look.”

Instantly, my heart begins to pound. Could it be from Noah? Who else knows I’m here?

I go over to Dad and take the box from him. The handwritten label on the top says,
To Penny, Happy You-Know-What Day! N

“Who’s it from?” Dad says, looking suspicious.

“Noah,” I mutter, my cheeks immediately flushing red.

“Who?” Dad says.

“Noah,” I repeat.

“Yes, I got that, but Noah who?”

“He’s Sadie Lee’s grandson,” Mum explains. “Penny went with him to get the replacement tiara today.”

“So, what’s in the box?” Dad asks, raising his eyebrows.

“I don’t know,” I reply. They all stare at me, waiting for me to open it.

“I’m going to go to bed,” I say. “I’m feeling really tired.”

Dad looks at Mum and raises his eyebrows again. She smiles at him and shakes her head as if to say, it’s OK. I breathe a sigh of relief.

“See you guys in the morning,” I say, quickly getting my key card from my bag.

“Yes, bright and early,” Mum says.

“But—” Elliot begins.

“Night!” I say, and I slip through my door and shut it behind me before any of them can say another word.

My heart’s still pounding: what could it be? I check my phone to see if Noah’s texted but there’s nothing. I open the top of the box and peer inside. I see a load of silky auburn hair and I gasp—the doll!