by Lucy Connell
‘Oh my goodness,’ Sophie says, putting the pom-pom hat to one side. ‘Are those fish key rings? My dad would love one of these!’
‘Sophie, can you focus please?’ Layla says in a strained voice.
‘Sorry,’ she says, her eyes drifting longingly to the key rings.
‘Nancy, we have a proposition for you,’ Layla begins importantly. ‘We’ve been thinking about the school competition that Mrs Smithson announced this week, and we have decided to enter it.’
‘You have? Why?’
‘Duh! Did you not hear what the prize was? Working with a creative director at the Disney Channel is pretty much the coolest job ever,’ Layla says, flicking her hair behind her shoulders. ‘We need to win.’
‘But isn’t it a lot of extra work?’
She shrugs. ‘How hard can it be? It’s just setting up a website and we’d tell everyone to vote for us. Simple.’
‘Okaaaaaaay. So, why are you telling me this?’
‘We want you on our team,’ Sophie says, beaming at me.
I stare at her. ‘Huh?’
‘We’ve got it all worked out,’ Layla says. ‘We’re going to launch a really beautiful, classy lifestyle website. It’s going to have everything on there that anyone could possibly need. Fashion, hair, make-up tips; guides to throwing the best parties; the best new music recommendations. Basically, everyone at school always asks us these questions anyway – why not put it on to a website for them? People would love it.’
‘The music bit is where you come in,’ Sophie jumps in, leaning forward next to the till. ‘We know you like writing about stuff like that because of the Chasing Chords fan-fiction site.’
I hesitate. ‘But why would you want me to help you? I mean, after what happened last term …’
I let my sentence fizzle out and there’s an uncomfortable lingering pause as Sophie and Layla glance at each other. No matter what they say about my writing skills and music knowledge, it’s weird that they want me to join their team. Our friendship has changed drastically and things are still kind of awkward between us. There are LOADS of people in our year who are good at writing about music who they could ask.
‘We just said why we want you.’ Layla shrugs again. ‘We both already have so much to do on the website; we don’t have time to do the music section, too. You like music so we thought we’d ask you first. Also, you have good contacts.’
‘Contacts?’
‘Chasing Chords!’ Sophie grins. ‘You’re friends with the best band EVER. We’d find out about music stuff before anyone else! Think how AWESOME that would be.’
‘So, what do you think?’ Layla asks, tapping her fingers impatiently on the counter.
‘I don’t know,’ I answer honestly. ‘I don’t know whether I’d have the time with homework and other stuff.’
I don’t say the other reason for not wanting to join their project: that I’d have to spend plenty of my spare time hanging out with them.
‘Other stuff like … working in your mum’s shop?’ Layla says, watching me carefully.
‘This is a one-off. Mum really needed the help.’
‘That’s OK,’ Sophie says cheerily. ‘We can always ask Nina.’
‘Nina?’ I say, not even trying to hide how astounded I am at the suggestion. ‘Did you say Nina? As in my sister, Nina?’
Layla nods. ‘Yeah, that Nina.’
I let out a loud ‘HA!’ but neither of them is laughing. ‘Is that a joke? You’re thinking of asking Nina to join you in creating a lifestyle and hot music website?’
‘Why is that so weird?’ Layla says, folding her arms. ‘Nina is dating Chase Hunter. She’s basically the most popular girl in school. She’s famous and she has incredible music contacts, especially now that she’s hanging out with Chase and showbiz people in London. The only reason we wouldn’t ask her is that she’d probably be too busy, but it’s worth a try to see if she’s interested.’
‘Hang on.’ I hold my hands up. ‘Did you just say Nina is the most popular girl in school?’
‘I bought the same headphones she has the other day,’ Sophie informs me. ‘I saved up for them and they are amazing. She was so right; they totally transform the sound.’
‘And she recommended this highlighter when I asked her which one she uses,’ Layla says, gesturing to her perfectly made-up skin. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t know about this one before. It’s so much better than my last one.’
‘Oh my god, and her shoes,’ Sophie says excitedly, before I can interject that it was ME who did Nina’s make-up and ME who told her which highlighter to use. ‘Did you see what that style columnist said about those high-tops she was wearing to Guildhall last weekend? Geek chic. Apparently, Chase got her those trainers for Christmas. So cute of him! I already asked Mum if she could get me some for my birthday.’
‘Whoa, whoa, whoa!’ I practically yell. ‘I got Nina those trainers. Not Chase. Me. I got them for her.’
‘The thing about style is that it’s not really what you’re wearing, it’s how you wear it,’ Layla says, ignoring me, with Sophie nodding slowly and sincerely in agreement; it’s as though Layla has spoken the wisest words of the century.
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I know that Nina is dating a pop star, so obviously the interest in her is going to go up a notch, but I had NO idea that it was this mad. Sophie is buying things because Nina is wearing them. NINA. I love Nina more than life, but the other day she almost bought a beige polo neck. A BEIGE POLO NECK.
Thank goodness I was there to stop her.
And this whole idea of Nina joining Layla and Sophie to create a lifestyle website together is completely laughable. Nina doesn’t have a clue about that kind of thing and she doesn’t even care. For example, at the amazing surprise party I threw for her, she pointed at the bunting on the wall and went, all baffled, ‘How did you get that to stay up there?’
AND THEY WANT HER TO GIVE PEOPLE TIPS ON HOW TO THROW THE BEST PARTIES?!
I know that she’d never do it. I know that she can’t stand Layla and Sophie, so that alone would stop her from being a part of it. I know that she doesn’t have the time to enter this competition. I know all this.
And yet …
I feel terrified at the idea of her doing this and not me. If in some fit of blind madness, Nina agreed to join their team, I would be more left behind than ever. I’d really have NOTHING left. Nina would be doing all these incredible things, and what would I be doing?
Hanging up key rings in Mum’s shop every weekend?
‘Anyway, we thought we’d ask you first but if it’s a no then we can –’
‘I’m in,’ I hear myself say.
Layla raises her eyebrows. ‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah.’ I nod firmly. ‘I want to launch this website with you. And I want to win.’
‘Yes!’ Sophie squeals, clapping her hands. ‘This is going to be SO much fun!’
‘We’ll have our first staff meeting on Monday and launch the website soon after that,’ Layla says. ‘We need to think up a name for the site and get as much content as possible up so we can get lots of interest quickly. I’ve already got plenty of ideas for layout and we need to come up with some good vlogs, too. As soon as people at school hear that us three are creating this amazing website, they’ll be wanting to see it as soon as possible. We want to drown out the competition from the start.’
‘OK,’ I say, slightly impressed by Layla’s new businesswoman persona. ‘I’ll think up some ideas for the music section over the weekend and we can brainstorm.’
‘Great.’
There’s a commotion behind me and I turn round to see Mum coming through the office door carrying a huge box, which she plonks down on to the counter.
‘Hello, girls,’ she says, sounding as surprised as I was to see Layla and Sophie in her shop. ‘Have you come to see Nancy working hard?’
‘We were just talking about our new project,’ Sophie informs her. ‘A website for the school c
ompetition.’
‘You’re going to enter the competition?’ Mum asks me with a wide smile. ‘That’s wonderful news!’
‘Nancy is going to be the music editor for our hot new lifestyle site,’ Sophie continues.
‘Oh!’ Mum tries to hide her astonishment at this news. ‘You’re entering the competition together.’
‘We’ll see you at school, Nancy,’ Layla says, looking bored and getting ready to go.
‘It was very nice to see you both. Nancy can get to work putting these out for me,’ Mum says, tapping the box.
‘What is it?’ Sophie asks, going up on to her tiptoes to try to peer in.
‘These are fantastic,’ Mum enthuses, and, before I can stop her, she pulls out a hat that she proceeds to put on her head.
‘Is that hat in the shape of a … lobster?’ Layla asks.
‘Isn’t it really something?’ Mum chuckles, wiggling her head so the pincers sticking out of each side of the hat wobble.
Layla smirks. ‘It sure is.’
‘OK, well, see you on Monday,’ I say hurriedly, jumping round the counter and ushering them out of the shop. ‘Can’t wait to get things started.’
They wave goodbye and I wait until the door has safely shut behind them, before turning to glare at Mum.
‘You had to put the lobster hat on.’
‘Yes, I did,’ she says, giggling away. ‘Those girls could do with smiling once in a while. They take themselves much too seriously. And, besides, a mother is entitled to embarrass her daughter every now and then. It’s our right and privilege.’
‘Yeah, well, I’m sure I’ll get some marvellous comments from them both about the lobster hat on Monday.’ I sigh.
‘Nancy,’ Mum begins, her expression turning serious, ‘are you sure this is a good idea? Going in on a website with them?’
‘They’ve got a good idea and we might actually have a chance of winning.’
‘You’re more than capable of winning on your own,’ Mum insists. ‘I know you don’t think you are, but it’s true. And those girls … well, I know that you’ve had your ups and downs –’
‘Mum, it’s fine,’ I interrupt. ‘Trust me, I need this. It’s not like I have anything better to do and it would be good to have something to focus on while Nina is gallivanting about London, becoming super successful and famous. I want to do this project.’
‘Fine, fine, it’s your decision,’ she says, sliding the box of hats towards me. She takes off the one she’s wearing and puts it on my head. ‘You look adorable. Now, get to work.’
I smile, lifting the box from the counter and carrying it to the stand. The bell above the door goes again while I’m busy arranging the hats and I hear a familiar voice, which makes my heart jump into my mouth.
‘Hey, Nancy.’
I spin round to see Miles, the drummer from Chasing Chords, grinning from ear to ear.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘It’s nice to see you, too,’ he says, before nodding over at my mum. ‘Hi, Ms Palmer.’
‘Miles!’ she says, coming over to give him a big hug. ‘You look very handsome!’
Oh my god. Kill me now.
‘Thanks!’ He laughs, as she beams at him. ‘How have you been?’
‘I’m good, thank you. Nancy told me all about your trip to Singapore; she was showing me all the pictures on your Instagram! Did you have a lovely time?’
‘Mum!’ I hiss. She is so engrossed, she doesn’t hear me.
‘Nancy showed you all my Instagram pictures, did she?’ Miles says, raising his eyebrows at me. ‘I had a great time, thank you. I was visiting my mum’s family out there.’
‘And then Nancy showed me the photos of you in your hiking boots on your long weekend in the Lake District!’ Mum continues, completely oblivious to how she’s making me look right now. ‘We used to go walking all the time; there are some lovely countryside walks around Norfolk. You would love them! Maybe Nancy could take you sometime.’
She looks at me and winks.
WINKS.
‘A countryside walk would be great. I look forward to it,’ Miles says, absolutely relishing the situation.
She nods and then the shop falls into an awkward silence.
‘Well!’ Mum says, clicking her fingers suddenly. ‘I’d better get back to my paperwork. I’ll leave you two in charge of the shop. Nancy, I’ll be in the office.’
I make sure not to look at her as she saunters off, so as not to give her the opportunity to wink at me again. The office door shuts behind her.
‘So,’ Miles says, putting his hands in his pockets, ‘you’ve been stalking me, then?’
‘What?’ I turn back to the hatstand and pretend to be busy arranging it. ‘I haven’t been stalking you.’
‘It sounds like you showed your mum a LOT of my photos,’ he says, strolling over to lean on the shelves next to me. ‘Kind of stalker-y.’
‘She got mixed up. It was Nina showing her those photos. It sounds like you’ve had a good break, though.’
My face is literally on fire. Thank goodness for foundation, otherwise I would be the colour of a beetroot right now.
‘Ah, Nina showed her the photos,’ he says, nodding. ‘That makes sense. How was Nina’s party? Sorry I couldn’t make it.’
‘Oh, weren’t you there?’ I ask casually. ‘I didn’t notice; there were so many people. It was a lot of fun.’
He smiles. ‘Yeah, Chase said.’
‘What are you doing in Norfolk?’ I ask, running out of things to pretend to arrange on the hatstand, so I move to sort the key rings.
‘We met that Norwich producer about ideas for new songs and I thought it might be fun to drop by and see what the fuss was all about. Chase is always talking about your lovely, quaint village.’
‘That’s nice.’
‘I could do with a tour guide, though.’
‘You want me to point you in the direction of the tourist information office?’
I glance up to see him smiling at me. My stomach does a weird flip thing. I really don’t know why I ever thought Chase was the hottest guy in Chasing Chords. Miles is much cuter. And he looks really good in a denim jacket over a hoodie. Like what he’s currently wearing.
Stop it, Nancy, I think, desperately trying to ignore how good he looks. Because I know for certain that Miles will NEVER be interested in me. I am the opposite of Nina, and she’s the one who boys in bands fall hopelessly in love with. I’m just the ‘other one’, remember?
‘I was actually thinking that you might have some spare time to show me around. According to Chase, there’s a good record store here.’
‘You mean Neptune Records? Nina loves it there. That’s where we held the party for her.’
See? This is a perfect example of why Miles would never be interested in someone like me. I am not a record-store person. Nina is a record-store person.
‘How about I go there for a bit and you come find me on your break? We could go for lunch and catch up. I have some time before I need to head back to London.’
‘OK,’ I say. ‘Sounds good. See you then.’
It is not a date, Nancy. He only needs to kill some time and he knows no one else here. He is not asking you out. Stop the butterflies flying around like crazy in your stomach.
He grins, before heading back to the door.
‘See you then. And by the way,’ he says, stopping in the doorway to turn back to me, ‘do you know that you’re wearing a lobster on your head?’
CHAPTER SEVEN
Nina
‘We’re leaving.’
Caroline is waiting for me at the music room as I arrive on time for my Sunday morning lesson, her long black coat slung over her arm.
‘You’re leaving?’ I ask. ‘Where are you going?’
‘No, I didn’t say I’m leaving. I said we are leaving,’ she replies, before glancing at the music in my hands. ‘You won’t need that today. Come with me.’
She pulls her coat
on as she marches down the corridor with me following closely in utter confusion. No one said anything about field trips. And I’d spent all last night practising for this morning. I could barely feel my fingers by the time I got to bed.
‘Caroline, where are we going? Do I need my bag or anything?’ I ask, as we head out into the cold.
‘We’re going to the drama department.’
I stop in my tracks. ‘What?’
She continues walking, unaware that I’m no longer following her. After a few paces, when she glances behind and notices I’m not on her heel, she stops and turns, gesturing for me to come towards her.
‘What are you doing, Nina? Come on, the cold is not good for the pianist’s fingers.’
‘Did you say the drama department?’ I ask, not wanting to move.
‘I did.’
‘Why are we going there?’
‘Why do you look so scared?’ She watches me curiously. ‘I thought you were here because you wanted to learn. Don’t you trust my teaching techniques?’
‘Of course!’ I say. ‘But, it’s just … I’m the worst person in the world at drama. Don’t you remember my performance at the start of the course? Me and the stage don’t exactly mix.’
She walks over to stand in front of me. ‘If you really want to get the most out of this music course, you need to learn to trust me, Miss Palmer. Now, come on. We’re going to be late.’
With that, she turns and marches towards the drama wing. I have no choice but to follow her.
I feel slightly cowed by Caroline, but at least I’m not the only one having trouble with her teacher. Yesterday, before group practice, Grace told me that her singing teacher asked her to stop singing in a silly accent.
‘I was singing in my own accent,’ she’d complained. ‘I didn’t know what to do! So, I … well …’
‘What did you do?’ I asked, completely enrapt.
‘I started singing in a Scottish accent.’
I’d burst out laughing and at first she’d told me off, saying that it wasn’t funny, but eventually she started laughing too and then we couldn’t stop.
