Star Reporter (5 page)

It's also totally amazing being in the press gang! Mum says I should learn something called shorthand to speed up my note taking, which seems to be like Egyptian hieroglyphics and only proves how old my mother is. Kelly asked me to shadow Nisha's coverage of the netball tournament after school on Wednesday, so I got to hang out with her and all her cool Year Nine mates and absolutely none of them drew any weird squiggly pictures instead of writing. They asked me about my dress for the May Ball and I tried to be all vague but the truth is, I haven't dared ask Mum for one yet, even though it is only two weeks to the ball. She'll probably suggest I make it out of the twins' old sleepsuits.

By Friday, I was so exhausted that I looked like a raccoon. When Shenice invited me and Molly to sleep over at her house, I couldn't get over there fast enough. So what if I had to sleep on a blow-up bed, or that Molly's crazy ringlets might try to smother me in the night, like they always do? The odds of someone waking me up by screaming for milk at two in the morning were a lot lower than at my own house. At least I hoped they were.

With one thing and another, I haven't seen as much of Molly and Shenice as I usually do. Tucked up in Shen's room in our pyjamas with The Droids blasting out, I could tell they were really keen to hear all about my new career as a journalist – every time I mentioned Kelly or Nisha or said the word “journo”, they'd sort of smile at each other, as though my success was their success. I've been worried that I might be making them feel a bit jealous. Their lives aren't exactly overflowing with excitement, after all – Shenice's mum is still hanging out with Julio every Thursday evening and Molly still spends every spare moment obsessing over my brother. I don't want them to think I'm rubbing their noses in my new-found popularity, but maybe it will help take their minds off their problems.

“Listen, I've got something to ask you,” Molly interrupted when I started to tell them about Kelly's fruit system for rating how juicy a story was. “It's really important.”

“Yeah?” I said. “Although I have to tell you that if it's about an ongoing story in HEY JUDE'S! my lips are sealed.”

Molly scowled. “Will you shut up about that for a minute? It's about Liam, anyway.”

I sat back, a bit surprised at the irritation in her voice. Maybe I HAD been going on about my new career too much after all. “What about him? He's still a moron, in case you were wondering.”

She ignored me. “I read on JUICE ON JUDE'S that Max is moving to Leeds next week. Tell me it's not true!”

I guessed she meant the bass guitar player from WOLF BRETHREN – he's called Max – but honestly, what was she asking me for? I'm the last person to know anything about Liam these days – he's always rehearsing. JOJ is my new guilty pleasure – I know I shouldn't love it but it's the first thing I check when I get home each day – but I must have missed the bit about Max in amongst all the other gossip. Or maybe I have trained my brain to ignore all WOLF BRETHREN references. Whatever the reason, I was drawing a blank until a memory stirred at the back of my mind – hadn't Liam said something to Dad about auditions for a new band member next week? Maybe that had something to do with it. “Er…it might be. Why?”

“WHY?” she exploded, so loudly that Shenice and I jumped. “It's only the first nail in WOLF BRETHREN's coffin, that's all! It's like when Josie left The Go-Go Bunnies – the beginning of the end. I can't believe you didn't tell me!”

And to my utter astonishment, she burst into tears. Shenice and I stared at each other, unsure what to say. I mean, I know Molly loves the band but this was off the scale, even for her.

“Liam doesn't seem very worried,” I said uncertainly, pulling a confused face at Shenice over Molly's bowed head. I racked my brains for details of the conversation he'd had with my dad. “He said bass players are two a penny and he hoped some really hot girls would apply.”

Shenice was making a desperate, one-handed cutting motion across her throat but it was too late. Molly stopped crying mid-sob and raised her head to look at me through narrowed eyes.

“What?”

Ooops.

“But mostly, they want someone good,” I babbled, going for damage limitation. “And the main thing is that they get the best person for the job, right?”

The silence was broken by a knock at the door. Shenice's mum poked her head into the room. She was wearing a sombrero. “CHOCOLATE CALIENTE PARA MIS CHICAS!”

Shenice groaned and covered her face with her hands. “Mum, you're from Basingstoke, not Barcelona. Speak English!”

“There's nothing wrong with bringing a bit of sunshine into our lives,” Shen's mum said, holding out the tray. She's really lovely but she does treat us like we're little kids. The tray had three mugs of hot chocolate on it, piled high with cream and marshmallows. Next to them was a bowl of pastel-coloured Iced Gems and a big bag of Haribo. Not that I'm complaining, of course – you're never too old for gummy bears and tiny biscuits.

“I thought you might be peckish,” she said. Then she saw Molly's tear-stained face and frowned. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything's fine, Mum,” Shenice said, letting out a heavy sigh. “Just go.”

“Are you sure?” Mrs Coleman said, looking at Molly sympathetically. “Is it boy trouble?”

“Mum!” Shenice shouted and I thought she might actually throw the tray across the room. “Molly is fine, we are fine, please leave us alone.”

“Alright,” she said and turned to go. “Make sure you bring those mugs down when you're finished, Shenice. The last cup you left up here started a new civilization under your bed.” The door clicked in its frame but not before we heard her call, “ADIOS, AMIGOS!”

Shenice made a weird growly noise as she handed out the hot chocolate. “See what I mean? Since she's started seeing this Julio, she's suddenly obsessed with Spain. I came home the other day to find her watching a Spanish film with the subtitles on.”

Even Molly couldn't stay angry in the face of Shenice's worry. “Does she know you know yet?”

“No,” Shenice answered glumly. “But I overheard her on the phone saying that she wants to see him twice next week, so it sounds like it's getting serious. If she tries to tell me he's my new dad I promise you I will run away.”

It sounded like Shenice's mum was getting on well with this Julio but I knew that wasn't what Shen wanted to hear. “I'm sure she wouldn't do that,” I said. “I read this article which said—”

Shenice ignored me. “She talks stupid Spanish all the time. Why else would she do that if not to get me used to the idea of moving to Spain?”

Now SHE looked like she might cry, and I wasn't sure I could handle both my BFFs going supernova at the same time. “You should follow her next time she goes to meet him,” I said, pleased that my new journalistic instincts were coming in handy. “See what this Julio dude looks like.”

Shenice sipped her hot chocolate thoughtfully. “You know, that's not a bad idea. But I can't do it on my own.” She threw us her best puppy-dog look. “You will both come, won't you?”

Molly and I looked at each other, and I knew we were both wondering how we'd get out of our houses late on a school night. But we'd think of something – Shenice needed us and we'd only be following her mum. What could possibly go wrong?

E-PETITION Number of signatures: 601

DISASTER! Woke up this morning thinking it was Monday and packed all the books I'd need, only for Liam to gleefully remind me that it was actually Tuesday – stupid BANK HOLIDAY MONDAY. After I'd repacked my bag, Ethel projectile-vomited into my Coco Pops, which put me off eating EVER again, but Mum insisted on making me some toast, all of which meant I was too late to meet Molly and Shenice. Thank goodness I washed and blow-dried my hair last night, which meant it was silky smooth for once this morning and didn't even needed brushing – just as well, since I didn't really wake up properly until halfway through registration. That little hair-care tip I picked up from THE THRIFTY GAL'S GUIDE TO GORGEOUSNESS has really worked. Mum might not be so impressed when she finds out there are no eggs left in the fridge but my hair feels great. Might try rinsing it with beer next time – am sure Dad won't mind.

It wasn't until maths was nearly over that I noticed Molly and Shenice were whispering to each other and looking at me like I'd grown another head.

“What?” I said, wondering if I'd forgotten to wash the blob of nappy cream off the monster spot I'd felt growing on my chin last night. “Why are you staring at me?”

“It's nothing,” Molly replied timidly. “Only… well, we wondered why…is that SCRAMBLED EGG in your hair?”

Instantly, my hand flew to my head and my fingers groped around my scalp. Sure enough, there were little bobbles of something there. When I pulled my hand away and inspected under my nails, it looked suspiciously like scrambled egg. I gazed down at it in utter bewilderment. I hadn't even had time to snatch up a slice of toast this morning, let alone a cooked breakfast, so how had I managed to get egg in my hair? Unless…

My eyes widened in panic. I'd rinsed my hair in eggs last night, like THE THRIFTY GAL'S GUIDE TO GORGEOUSNESS suggested. Then I'd blow-dried it. What if I hadn't rinsed the egg away properly? The heat from the hairdryer would have cooked whatever was left, meaning that instead of a glossy mane of hair, I was quite literally an EGGHEAD. I gasped and raised my hand.

“Please, sir, can I go to the toilet?”

Mr Peterson didn't even look up. “I'm sure you can wait ten more minutes until break, Cassidy.”

I thought about pushing it but people were starting to glance over at me already and I didn't want them looking too closely. Especially not Nathan. So I lowered my hand and casually started to peel the bigger lumps of egg out of my hair and drop them on the floor, wishing that Rolo was there to eat the evidence. There were going to be some very confused cleaners in that classroom at the end of the day.

“How is it looking?” I muttered to Molly and Shenice, who were watching me with expressions of horrified fascination.

“A bit better,” Shenice conceded. “A lot less Humpty Dumpty, definitely.”

“How did it happen?” Molly asked.

By the time I'd whispered an explanation, in between glares from Mr Peterson, it was the end of the lesson. I stuffed my books into my bag with lightning speed. The sooner I got to the girls' toilets and sorted my head out, the better.

“Uh, Cassie,” Molly said, her voice full of warning. “I'm guessing you don't want to talk to Nathan right now? Only he's heading this way.”

No, no, NO, this could not be happening. I couldn't let him see me like this – he'd think I had the worst case of dandruff ever. Rummaging in my bag, I pulled out my scarf and wrapped it around my head, just as he arrived at our table.

“Oh, hi, Nathan,” I said, ignoring the puzzled looks I was getting from the rest of my classmates as they filed out of the room. “How are you?”

His gaze slid to my head. “I'm fine. Why have you got a scarf wrapped around your head?”

I giggled nervously. “It's for the school magazine,” I improvised, and next to me, Molly and Shenice nodded feverishly. “I'm doing an article on fashion and thought I'd better test out this season's hot new looks.”

“Right,” he said slowly. “And that's a hot new look, is it?”

I nodded carefully, trying not to picture lumps of scrambled egg flying off to hit him in the face. “Yeah, didn't you see last month's VOGUE?” I said, in a bright, shrill voice. “Everyone in Paris is wearing them. So, what can I do for you?”

He cleared his throat and glanced at Molly and Shenice. “I – uh—”

This was a first – I'd never seen Nathan Crossfield anything other than ice-cool and unless I was wrong, he was nervous about something. Molly and Shenice were staring at him with expectant eyes. I aimed a meaningful look their way. “I'll see you outside, shall I?”