by Melody James
‘Miss Jupiter.’ Will grabs my hand and starts shaking it. ‘I admire you so much.’
I gasp, my hand limp with shock. Will has just told Jessica Jupiter he admires her. I can hardly believe it. I stare through my veil. ‘Thank you,’ I croak. ‘You don’t know what that means to me.’
Before he can ask, I shake my hand free of his and duck out of the assembly hall.
Before the staff release the gorillas, I hare back to webzine HQ and start stripping off my costume.
Can I get dressed and back to my class before anyone has a Lois Lane/Superman moment and realizes that Jessica and I are never in the room at the same time?
It’s a relief to fight my way out of the wig and peel Cindy’s tights from my head. My hair explodes with joy and my scalp sucks in air like a hoover. I’m so dizzy, I have to sit down to wriggle out of the riding habit.
Once I’m dressed, I shove the costume back into my backpack and wrap the dressage hat in plastic bags. Then I relax.
I did it! I faked Jessica Jupiter in front of a thousand kids.
My performance may not have been Oscar-winning, but it worked. I perch on the edge of a desk and take a breath. There’s no sign Jessica was ever here. As I bend to pick up my stuffed backpack, I notice a parcel on top of one of the PCs.
My inner journalist can’t resist peeking to see who it’s for. My inner kid is thrilled to see it’s for me.
Gemma Stone
c/o Green Park High
I grab it and hold it. It’s floppy and soft. I check the postmark: London.
Who’s sent me a parcel?
Savouring delight, I run my fingers under the Sellotape and loosen one end. Liquid gold floods out, coating my hand. I recognize the colour and texture of silk. It’s the dress I wore on the runway!
I pull it from the parcel, letting the brown paper flutter to the floor. It unfurls like a royal flag and dances in front of me. The dress is even more beautiful than I remember.
Pinned to the shoulder is a note.
Gemma, darling,
Forgive me for putting you through such an ordeal. I only learnt later that you weren’t Radical. Your fabulous fall and sassy recovery brought more publicity to my show than a dozen Radicals. Here, with my sincerest apologies and deepest gratitude, is the dress. Please keep it and wear it with joy. You made it beautiful.
Yours adoringly,
Reuben
I stare at the dress as it shimmers in a beam of sunshine.
It’s mine?
I can hardly believe it. I’ve never owned anything so beautiful in my life.
I have the perfect dress for the prom. A pang stabs my heart. But no date to go with it.
There’s a soft knock on the door. I spin round just in time to see Sam slide in.
‘Cindy said I’d find you here.’ His eye catches the dress. ‘Nice,’ he comments approvingly. ‘It looks like the one from the show.’
‘It is.’ My cheeks are hot. I’ve been so mean to him. Why’s he being so kind?
‘Did you mean what you wrote in your article?’ he asks softly.
‘What I wrote?’ I stare at him stupidly. That you’re handsome? That you have blue-blue eyes? That you make me weak at the knees? That I wish more than anything in the world that you’d take me in your arms and dance with me like I’m your Cinderella?
‘About wanting to be single,’ he murmurs.
I look away. Why’s he asking? Why did I write such a dumb article? Jeez, Gemma, why not just slice your heart out and shove it on a plate? It would be slightly less painful.
‘Well?’ he presses gently.
‘It was just the way I was feeling at the time. You said my hair was curly. Not that I mind having curly hair, and it’s OK for people to notice. Not that they wouldn’t not notice. Or at least they wouldn’t not fail to notice. Because it’s curly and not straight and blonde. Which is how I thought you liked your hair. Well, not your hair. Cindy’s hair. And that’s why I’ve been so mean to you . . .’
I’m rambling and incoherent. Worse, I know I’m rambling and incoherent, but I can’t stop myself. ‘I’m so sorry, Sam. I totally misunderstood. I thought you and Cindy were and we weren’t . . .’ It doesn’t help that Sam’s moving slowly towards me which just makes me talk faster and dumber till I’m a speeding word-train heading for a cliff. ‘. . . so, when you said you liked my hair, even though it’s the best thing I’ve ever heard and I was really happy, I shouldn’t have been and that’s why . . .’
Sam stops me. Very, very gently, he leans in and kisses me on the lips.
I die.
Well, I don’t die because that would be a really uncool way to react. But I’m so stunned, the world stops. I know people are moving through the corridors and teachers are trying to keep the school day going even though it’s the end of term and everyone’s just killing time before the prom. But my world stops and there’s just Sam and me in it. Standing close. In a store cupboard on the second floor of Green Park High.
I want him to kiss me again, but he doesn’t. Instead, he drowns me in his blue-blue eyes and starts talking. ‘So you might want to come to the prom with me tonight?’
While I stare at him, mouthing air like a goldfish, he takes the Reuben dress from my hand and drapes it over the PC. ‘I bet that looks prettier in real life than it did in the photos.’
I find my voice. ‘This time I won’t fall off any stages.’
‘Don’t worry, I won’t let you near any.’ He looks at me earnestly. ‘Unless invading stages is something you can’t live without.’
‘I can live without it.’ I suddenly realize he’s slipped his arms round my waist. I can feel his hands, strong and warm on my spine.
‘Gemma,’ he murmurs. ‘You’re the hardest girl to ask on a date ever.’
‘Am I?’ I give him innocent doe eyes.
‘You have a habit of shooting me down every time I come close.’
‘Not this time,’ I murmur.
‘True,’ he concedes. ‘But how about I ask you out on the next ten dates now, while I’m on a roll?’
‘OK,’ I smile.
‘Mind you . . .’ He hesitates.
‘What?’
‘It’ll be strange dating two girls at once.’
‘What?’ My heart drops like a stone. ‘But I thought you weren’t dating Cindy—’
He cuts me off. ‘Not Cindy, you dope.’ He presses his finger gently against the tip of my nose. ‘Jessica.’
‘Jessica?’ I can’t feel his finger. My nose has gone numb.
He grins a wide, mischievous grin. ‘Yes, Miss Jupiter, Jessica.’ With a tug, he pulls off Jessica’s false nose.
I forgot I was wearing it!
I cover my face with my hands. I had my first kiss with Sam wearing a rubber nose. ‘I am such an idiot.’
‘No, you’re not.’ He kisses me again, very gently, then leans back looking thoughtful. ‘I think I preferred it with the extra nose.’
‘Hey!’ I shove him playfully, but he just holds me tighter. It feels good.
He grins. ‘I can’t believe you stood in front of the whole school and pretended to be Jessica Jupiter.’
I lift my chin. ‘Nor can I.’
‘You really had me fooled.’
‘I’ve been pretending to be Jessica all year,’ I tell him. ‘I’m used to the role.’
‘So all those horoscopes were you?’
‘Yep.’ I toss back my hair.
He looks impressed. ‘You’re a girl of many talents.’
‘And I’ve only just started.’ I duck out of his embrace and head for the door.
‘Don’t forget your nose.’ He tucks it into my blazer pocket.
I open the door, holding it for him.
‘If you’re Jessica,’ Sam says as he passes, ‘can you write a horoscope about my band getting a record contract?’
‘I’ll see what I can do.’ I linger in the doorway and glance back at the musty old room. I’d been so nervous
at my first webzine meeting. Everyone was a Year Ten except me. I thought I was in the wrong room. Now it feels like a second home, crammed with memories. I can almost feel Will and Cindy sparking off each other. I see Barbara sitting quietly, sensible and patient, while they bicker. I picture Jeff fidgeting in his seat, desperate to get back to football practice while Phil and David frown with earnest concentration. How many times had I avoided Sam’s gaze, frightened of blushing and giving myself away? And now he’s taking me to the prom.
Being Jessica was far more fun than I ever imagined. I’ve been able to help my friends to find love. And I did get some serious journalistic experience after all. And, somewhere along the way, I managed to snag the boy of my dreams.
Smiling, I pull the door shut after me and join Sam in the corridor.
‘Ready?’ He slips his arm round my waist.
‘Ready,’ I tell him.
