Star Reporter (14 page)

“What kind of action?” Molly asked.

“Walking instead of driving, buying locally sourced food, washing clothes at a lower temperature,” Shenice replied, ticking the items off on her fingers. “But our biggest challenge is climate-change deniers. Did you know that there are actually idiots who refuse to believe there's a problem?”

I thought about that. No one who'd smelled one of Liam's eye-watering efforts could deny that he had a problem.

“Huh,” Molly said. “We should invite them to spend a day at St Jude's. Is it just me or is it hotter there than anywhere else?”

I have to admit I felt a tiny bit guilty then. St Jude's DOES feel hotter than the sun at the moment but that's mostly because all three of us are wearing trousers in a heatwave. Ever since I started a petition to allow girls to wear trousers to school and the school governors changed the rules to say we can, I have felt like I cannot ever be TROUSERLESS. And Molly and Shenice are being brilliant BFFs and supporting me, in spite of some serious perspiration problems. Leading a revolution is much sweatier than I expected.

“At least it's nearly the end of term,” I said. “Just think, no more Mr Peterson for six whole weeks.”

It's not that I don't like maths but Mr Peterson is to fun what my dad is to coolness: a vacuum. Although at least Mr Peterson doesn't dress up as Elvis Presley in his spare time like Dad. Honestly, it's like he is on a mission to win Most Embarrassing Parent EVER. He's even talking about taking his tufty black wig and sparkly white onesie on holiday with us to Happy Sands this year. I am going to live with Aunt Jane and Uncle Ian if he does.

“No more Mrs Pitt-Rivers,” Shenice said, shivering in spite of the heat.

Mrs Pitt-Rivers is our super-strict Deputy Headteacher – seriously, she makes Miss Trunchbull look relaxed. I don't mind her so much since she was almost nice to me a few months ago but Shenice is terrified of her.

“No more Nathan Crossfield,” Molly pointed out, with a sideways look at me. “Unless there's something you're not telling us?”

My cheeks were already warm but they suddenly became fiery hot. Nathan Crossfield is the most popular boy in Year Seven – he's the football team's star striker, a favourite with the teachers and the closest thing St Jude's Secondary has to a celebrity. He's also my favourite person to share a sundae with and I might have an eensy-weensy crush on him. Oh, and I once threw up on his feet, but we NEVER talk about that.

“I don't know what you mean,” I said, trying to make like Queen Elsa and think frosty thoughts. “Nathan who?”

“Oh, purlease,” Molly said, rolling her eyes. “Are you seeing him over the summer holidays or not?”

“How can she?” Shenice asked. “The summer course at Eton Dorney Dance and Drama Academy starts as soon as school finishes and she's going to Happy Sands for a week. She won't have time.”

I do have a teensy little CONFESSION to make here: I'm not sure I'll even be going to EDDDA. I know we all agreed to sign up for it but that was before Mum saw the cost. She sighed so hard that our neighbours must have thought we'd been struck by some kind of extremely localized mini-hurricane. And then I'd heard her arguing with Dad about it after I'd gone to bed. Mum said we didn't have the money, not on top of our trip to Cornwall, and Dad said it was about time I got in touch with my inner Elvis, which made me suddenly feel a LOT less keen. But Molly and Shenice are SUPER-EXCITED about it and it's giving me serious FOMO – Fear Of Missing Out. I am really hoping acting will be my BIG TALENT. I read somewhere that the best actors are called THESPIANS and it seems to me that it will be a lot harder to win an Oscar if I never get the chance to THESP. But short of winning the lottery, I can't see how I'm going to get to EDDDA.

Obviously, I hadn't quite worked up the courage to give my BFFs the bad news – I'd been pinning my hopes on a last-minute miracle. What makes it worse is that Nathan won't be around either – he told me last week that his dad is working in Australia for the whole of the summer break and Nathan has to go too. Six weeks without a visit to the Shake Shack. Forty-two days without a SUGAR RUSH MOUNTAIN. 1,008 long hours without the cutest smile outside of THE DROIDS. I hadn't told Molly and Shenice that either because I was secretly hoping I'd wake up and find the whole conversation had been a bad dream. But the time had come to face facts: my summer was about to become a FRIEND-FREE ZONE.

“Oh,” Molly said, when I told them about Nathan now. “That sucks.”

Shenice nodded in sympathy. “It does. But EDDDA is going to be so much fun!”

“Yeah,” I said, making a wish and hoping my fairy godmother was paying attention. “Well, I've got some not-so-brilliant news about that too…”

By the time we reached the end of my road, I'd managed to drag them down to my level and none of us could find a silver lining. I said a gloomy goodbye before trudging to my front door. I wouldn't be surprised if they have such a good time THESPING that they forget who I am by the time September rolls around. If only I had something to look forward to instead of a week up close and personal with my family.

If only fairy godmothers were real.

Mum looked hot and harassed when I walked into the living room.

“Cassidy, Rolo ate another pair of your knickers this morning,” she said, blowing her fringe off her sticky-looking forehead as she wrestled with a wriggling Ethel. “You're going to have to start putting them into your washing basket instead of leaving them on the floor.”

Rolo looked up at the mention of his name and wagged his tail in case it was followed by a “Good boy!” I don't know what's worse – his obsession with my underwear or having to discuss it with my mother. She doesn't seem to get that Rolo only eats clean, freshly washed pants. He likes his food peppered with Persil so it doesn't matter how untidy my room is. Even so, the situation is reaching RED ALERT: I am running out of underwear. Any minute now it is going to trigger another of Mum's “We-Are-Not-Made-of-Money” lectures. I KNOW we don't have much money – you only have to look in the cupboards and see the woefully low levels of chocolate and other essentials – but I can't help it if Rolo noses out my knickers with all the instincts of a police sniffer dog, can I? He finds them wherever I put them – NOWHERE is safe.

Something thudded against my foot. I looked down to see Joshua half-wedged under the table, his chunky little legs waggling like flippers. Ever since the twins started crawling, Mum's had her work cut out keeping them out of mischief. It's like they're eight-month-old criminal masterminds – one of them creates a distraction and the other commits the heist. Joshua's crime of choice is stealing the biscuits from Rolo's bowl. Actually, it is no wonder Rolo is eating my KNICKERS – he's probably starving most of the time.

“I spoke to Miss Skelly, the principal of the drama academy today, about course fees,” Mum said as I rescued Joshua and swung him into my arms. He had a Cheerio stuck to his forehead, making him look like an extra from MONSTERS, INC.

“Okay,” I said, fending off his determined effort to thrust his fingers up my nostrils. This was it – make or break time for my summer, and quite possibly my entire future. “And?”

Mum took a deep breath. My heart sank. It couldn't be good news, not when her face looked like a gloomy black cloud. “Apparently, they have a bursary for students who can't afford the full fee. We had a chat about our family circumstances and it seems we qualify. They want a reference from St Jude's so I gave them Mr Bearman's name.”

“Oh,” I said, and my last hope vanished like a snowflake on a barbecue. Of all the teachers at St Jude's, Mr Bearman is my favourite, but I can't help thinking I've been a bit of a disappointment to him so far. First there was the time when the school thought I was a genius and I turned out not to be, and second there was the whole mess with the school magazine, where EVERYONE thought I was a gossip queen when I totally wasn't. So although Mr Bearman is really nice (for a teacher), I don't think he's likely to recommend me for a drama school bursary. Not when he thinks I am a DISASTER ON LEGS.

Mum jiggled Ethel around on one hip. “I'm sorry we can't pay for all of it like Molly and Shenice's parents. It's just that money's a bit—”

“Tight at the moment,” I finished for her, trying hard not to picture a summer where the highlight of the holidays was a treasure hunt around Happy Sands with their mascot, Captain Pigeon. “Yeah, I know.”

“Well, don't lose hope,” Mum said, sniffing at Ethel's bottom. “Sorry, Rolo, I thought that smell was you. Back in a minute.”

She disappeared upstairs, carrying my stinky little sister with her. I sat down with Joshua and looked into his big, round eyes. “Peekaboo,” I said glumly.

“Bah!” he said, before letting rip with the loudest burp I have ever heard in my life. I swear the windows rattled a bit. Looking ridiculously pleased with himself, he gurgled happily and threw up, covering my shirt with half-digested dog biscuits.

“MUM!” I bellowed, turning Joshua around in case he did it again. “YOUR SON IS THE MOST DISGUSTING CREATURE KNOWN TO HUMANITY!”

“Which one?” she shouted back.

I hesitated because even though Liam has never been sick on me, there are a hundred tiny ways he is worse than Joshua and Joshua is only a baby so can't be held totally responsible for his actions. “Both!” I yelled.

And then Rolo obviously decided he was going to get in on the DISGUSTINGNESS action because he started trying to lick the baby sick/biscuit combo off my shirt.

Singing! Dancing! Acting! You name it, I'll do it…or at least try, as I've got just four weeks at DANCE AND DRAMA ACADEMY to perfect a SHOW-STOPPING performance!

I love rehearsing with my SUPER-TALENTED BFFs and I hope I can SPARKLE in the spotlight. But with my wobbly warbling, two left feet and STAGE FRIGHT, I might be a dramatic disaster…

Check out the latest gossip at
www.completelycassidy.co.uk

Tamsyn's special talent is writing and she is the author of many books for young readers.

Tamsyn's family is only slightly less crazy than Cassidy's. She lives with her daughter, son, five rabbits, one dog, one cat and one husband.

Tamsyn's fave foods are fish-finger sandwiches and cookie-dough ice cream.

Multitalented Tamsyn can lick her own elbow!

www.tamsynmurray.co.uk

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This ebook edition first published in 2015 by Usborne Publishing Ltd., Usborne House, 83-85 Saffron Hill, London EC1N 8RT, England.
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Copyright © Tamsyn Murray, 2015

The right of Tamsyn Murray to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.