“You’re all in rooms of twos and threes,” she said before taking a deep breath, clearly ready for some protest at whatever she was going to say next. “We have assigned the person or people you will be sharing with. . . .” Everyone started groaning. “AND I DON’T WANT TO HEAR ANY COMPLAINING!”
“Please say I’m sharing with you or someone who actually likes me!” I whined to Jess, glancing at Sophie and her minions glaring at everyone else from the other side of the room.
“Don’t worry,” Jess said, pulling out a hand mirror from her bag to try and brush away the hair that had fallen into her face. “It will be better than on the plane—no one is that unlucky. Lightning never strikes in the same place twi— WHAT IS THAT ON MY FACE?”
“Anna is quite the artist.” James laughed, winking at me as everyone looked our way.
“OH, REALLY,” Jess began, turning on me.
“Anna Huntley?” Mrs. Ginnwell called out, consulting her clipboard. “You will be sharing with . . . Sophie Parker.”
She shook the keys at me cheerfully. I looked at Sophie, whose jaw had dropped to the ground. I turned to Jess. “What was that about lightning striking twice?”
“Well,” Jess said, snapping her mirror shut and smiling broadly so the whiskers stretched prominently across her face. “Some people might call that karma.”
8.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Greetings from England!
Hello, my darling girl!
I hope you are having a wonderful first evening in beautiful Roma! Thank you for your phone call earlier. I’m thrilled you arrived there safe and sound. And just ignore your father complaining in the background about the phone bill you were running up by calling on the hotel landline. It’s not your fault that Dog broke your phone!
I’m only pleased that Helena and I happened to be at your house when you rang. Your father would have just answered the phone, confirmed you were alive and then hung up. Honestly! I blame the amount of spy books he reads. It closes him off to emotion.
It sounds like quite a cool place if it has computers! You should have seen the places I’ve stayed at on my European travels. When I was in France considering a career as a horse whisperer, I was living in what I am now sure was a converted zoo. Hay everywhere.
I think you were trying to tell me something but I couldn’t make it out as your voice was too muffled. Were you talking while holding a scarf over your head?
It sounded along the lines of “I’m tearing apart a broom with an oaf” or “I’m swearing at noon with goats.”
I may have heard you wrong, Anna, but I do not condone you tearing apart anything, let alone hotel property. In Madrid I once broke off the nose ring of a bull’s head that was on the wall of the hotel suite I was staying in and it didn’t go down well at all.
I’m also not keen on you stealing goats, Anna. Unless they need liberating from some evil shepherd oppressor? That would be a different matter, of course. Now that I think about it, I don’t remember seeing anything about goats on your itinerary. . . .
Have a lovely time, darling! We already miss you, especially your father. I caught him looking forlornly at your room earlier and he tried to brush it off by saying, “Why can’t she leave her room in an acceptable state?” and then busied himself with some fishing flies, but I know it was all a facade.
Ciao!
Mom xxx
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Greetings from England!
I AM SHARING A ROOM WITH SOPHIE.
That’s what I said, Mom! I am sharing a room with Sophie!
Why would I be stealing goats?? Why would I be tearing up brooms?? Why did you break off a bull’s nose ring?? When did you consider being a HORSE WHISPERER as a career?!
WHY CAN’T MY FAMILY BE NORMAL?!
Love, me xxx
“This place is disgusting.”
Sophie threw her bags down on one of the beds and strutted over to the window to lift the blinds. “There isn’t even a view! It’s just some stupid courtyard.”
“It’s not so bad,” I offered timidly, practically grazing my fingers as I ran them along the coarse bed cover. “And courtyards can be cool.”
“Courtyards can be cool?” Sophie snorted. “Can you hear yourself when you talk?”
Sophie and I had both desperately tried to protest against the room arrangement, especially when Josie and Jess got assigned to a room together and caused a similar amount of fuss. “It’s so easy, Mrs. Ginnwell,” Jess argued. “Just switch us around so that Anna and I are together and Josie and Sophie are together.”
“For the first time in history I actually agree with Jess Delby.” Sophie looked slightly disgusted at this realization before turning sweetly to Mrs. Ginnwell. “I don’t see what the problem with that solution could possibly be.”
“Exactly.” Jess nodded. “Everyone is happy if we just swap and then we don’t have to share with people we . . . uh . . . don’t see eye to eye with.”
“Girls, I’m very disappointed in all of you. For one thing, I specifically said that you were not to complain, and for another thing, it is exceptionally rude to complain so loudly in front of the people you are sharing with.”
“Trust me, the feeling is mutual,” Sophie said, swishing her hair back.
“Girls, in life you don’t always get to pick your team players, but that doesn’t mean you are not a team.”
“I would NEVER pick these two as my team players,” Sophie scoffed, looking Jess and me up and down as Josie snickered behind her.
“I would NEVER want to be on your team considering the last time you captained you lost. Or have you already tried to blank out Sports Day?” Jess smiled triumphantly as Sophie turned bright red, glaring at her.
“That’s enough! Really!” Mrs. Ginnwell rapped on her clipboard for our attention. “My decision is final. Anna, you are sharing with Sophie; Jess, you are sharing with Josie. I don’t want to hear a peep out of any of you about it, and if there is any trouble, then you will be on a plane back to England before you can say ‘spaghetti.’ Is that clear?”
We reluctantly nodded.
“Good. View it as a chance to get to know one another. You’re all such lovely girls. Sometimes you don’t realize just how much you have in common with someone until you’re stuck in a room with them.”
Sophie grimaced and then turned on her heel, flouncing off toward the stairs with Josie trotting along behind her. Jess shrugged at me as we acknowledged defeat, turning to follow them.
Despite the fact that the very first thing Sophie did on reaching our room was start complaining again—first about the view and then about the lack of complimentary items that were available to us—I found myself optimistically wondering whether there might be any hope of getting along during this vacation. There was a time—when my dad first decided to ruin my life by getting spontaneously engaged to a famous actress and the world suddenly had access to my daily humiliation via newspapers, gossip magazines, and websites—when Sophie and I had been close to being friends.
Sure, it turns out that it was probably only because of the whole It Girl thing, but I was certain there were some genuine moments, especially when she once told Josie off for taunting me. Maybe, underneath the vain, cruel exterior, there was a glimmer of kindness in Sophie Parker.
She noticed me studying her as I thought about a future where we might be civil to each other. “You know, when you stare like that you look like one of those red-eyed frogs that alligators eat.”
Aha! Communication—now this was a start. “I’m impressed with your frog knowledge. Do you watch David Attenborough? Was that on a recent episode?”
She ignored me.
“Really,” I continued, blazing on with no idea where I was going with what I was saying, “I didn’t know that you were into that kind of thing�
�you know, wildlife and stuff. I watched a David Attenborough episode recently about insects. It was really interesting, actually. Did you know that a bombardier beetle gets back at his enemies by shooting boiling liquid at them? Seriously, they have rotating nozzles in their . . .” I faltered, sensing this might not be the right way to build bridges. “Well, in their butts. And the butt nozzles fire out the boiling liquid. Cool, right?!”
Sophie slowly lowered the dress she was holding and put it back in her suitcase. “Oh my God. You are so weird.” She slid along the wall toward the bathroom, trying to get as much physical distance as possible between us and locked herself in.
There was a knock on our bedroom door. “Anna?”
I opened it to find Jess standing there, scrubbing her face with a washcloth. “I’ve come here to let you know that I have decided to forgive you about the whole whiskers thing,” she declared, walking past me and slumping on my bed. “I thought it best to tell you in person.”
“Really, that’s the reason you’ve come here?”
She smiled at me mischievously, still trying to rub the ink off her face. “Duh. It was extremely difficult to tear myself away from Josie. We were getting along so splendidly.”
“That bad, huh?”
“She has already given me a lecture on how I wear my hair incorrectly.” Jess raised her eyes to the ceiling. “How can I wear my hair wrong? It’s hair! It’s on my head! I had to get out of there. I saw her checking out my fingernails and I was afraid I’d get told I was wearing my cuticles wrong. Where’s Queen Supreme, then?”
“In the bathroom. I think I freaked her out by talking about liquid firing out of beetles’ butts.”
“Yeah, that would probably do it.”
“I was trying to make an effort to be friends.”
“Sure, and when in doubt talk about beetles and their excrement.”
“It’s not excrement, it’s a boiling-hot liquid that they fire at their enemies.”
“Why were you trying to make an effort to be friends with her?” Jess snorted.
“I thought there might be something in what Mrs. Ginnwell said. You know, trying to make amends.”
“Trust me”—Jess shook her head—“better to let things be.”
Suddenly the bathroom door swung open and Sophie peeked around from it wearing her towel. “What are you doing in here? I hope this isn’t going to be a regular occurrence.”
“Well, you know how much I enjoy your conversation, Soph.” Jess grinned. “Tell us all about that imported water again?”
“The shower isn’t working,” she said to me, ignoring Jess. “Go and complain to the manager and get him to send someone up.”
“Are you sure it’s not working?” I asked.
“Have you tried turning it on?” Jess added.
“Of course I tried turning it on!” Sophie spat. “Can you just go and get someone?”
“Let me see if I can fix it,” I offered, continuing on my quest to get along with my temporary roommate.
Jess raised her eyebrows as I strode into the bathroom and pretended I knew what I was doing. I twiddled the tap handles of the bath backward and forward, but nothing happened so I pulled the showerhead from its stand to inspect it. “Maybe it is broken.”
“No kidding,” Sophie snarled, snatching the showerhead from me and inspecting it herself while I twiddled the tap some more. “I told you it was broken.”
I turned the cold tap as far as it would go and then pulled out the latch in the middle of the taps as an experiment. Suddenly there was a low rumble and the shower burst into life, water shooting out of the showerhead at full force and straight into Sophie’s face.
She screamed and dropped the showerhead, but with the water flowing through the pipe it took on a life of its own and flung itself around wildly as I tried to catch it. Unfortunately, my catching skills are on the same level as a penguin’s so I was just sort of leaping around as the showerhead flew around the room, soaking the bathroom, Sophie, and myself.
“STOP TRYING TO CATCH IT! TURN IT OFF, YOU MORON!” Sophie screamed. I lurched toward the tap, turning it off as quickly as possible. We both stood in silence, dripping wet, while Jess howled in laughter having witnessed the whole scene from the comfortable front-row seat of my bed.
“That was kind of fun. Right?” I suggested, looking at Sophie hopefully, water dripping down my face.
She gripped her sopping towel, her sodden hair slapped flat against her head.
“Maybe not so fun,” I mumbled, reading her angry expression, which, interestingly, reminded me a little of Darth Vader’s mask. I decided not to tell her that, though.
“This is going to be a disaster,” Sophie hissed, pointing at the doorway to instruct my exit from the bathroom. She slammed the door behind me.
Jess wiped away her tears of laughter and threw a towel at me. “Hilarious. You two should have your own show.”
9.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Hey!
Hey, Spidey!
Sorry I missed your call—I keep my phone on silent when I’m drawing—but glad you got there safe and sound. I was going to call back, but by the time I saw your missed call it was really late, and considering you’re sharing with She Who Must Not Be Named, I figured I better not risk awakening the beast.
Such bad luck on the room share—did you ask Mrs. Ginnwell if you could swap?
So, have you eaten your weight in gelato yet? I guess you only just arrived so that would be impressive. Make sure you hunt down a store that has a Nutella flavor. I know they do that out there. You should start a campaign to get them to import Nutella ice cream from Italy to England! With your It Girl status I bet you could make it happen.
I’m all good. Have been working today on the storyline and just sketching out some ideas. I need to think of a bad guy and sidekick for this one. Maybe I can ask Sophie and Josie to pose for me? Just kidding. I could never spend that long in a room with either of them.
Have a brilliant time and call me if you get the chance. I want to hear all about your first day seeing the sights.
Connor xx
“Morning, brainiac. What are you reading?”
“Hey!” I yelped as Jess snatched the piece of paper from my hand when she found me waiting for her on the stairs.
She glanced at the first few lines as she strode past, with me tripping down the steps behind her. “Is this an e-mail from Connor?” She smiled mischievously, handing it back to me. “And you printed it out because?”
“Because,” I huffed, grabbing it from her hand, “I didn’t have time to read it before breakfast.”
Jess snorted. “You are such a bad liar. You wanted to study it, didn’t you?”
“What do you think it means if he put two kisses on the end? That’s a good sign, right? Or do you think he should have put more than two?”
“I think it’s a good sign.” Jess yawned as we made our way toward the breakfast room.
“But he doesn’t say anything about missing me,” I said, scanning the e-mail again. “Is that a bad sign?”
“It’s been one night.”
“I suppose you’re right. But do you think it’s bad that he didn’t call? I mean, I gave him the number to call. But then he was working all day so maybe he didn’t see my message. And he does say he would have called, but he didn’t want to wake Sophie, which is very sensible of him. But then he could have called this morning. Do you think if he actually missed me he would have called this morning?”
“I think it’s too early to deal with your crazy.”
“Maybe I should call him. Do you think I should call him? He does say I should call him. But I think he means this evening rather than this morning. Here, what do you think?” I passed Jess the piece of paper again, anxious for her opinion.
She took it from me, screwed it up into a ball, and tossed it into the trash can.
“OI! What did you do that for?” I whined as we approached the breakfast buffet.
“Because, Anna, we’re in Rome. It’s our vacation. That means you need to relax and just enjoy it.”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “I just wish he was here too, to enjoy it with us.”
“I know. We all wish that. But no more studying every letter of his e-mails. Otherwise you’ll just read things into them that aren’t there.” Jess placed a hand on my shoulder. “Of course he misses you. Who wouldn’t?”
I smiled up at her. Despite the constant ribbing, Jess always had the knack of making me feel better.
“Come on. Let’s go join the others,” she said, moving over to join Danny and Stephanie, who were on their own at one of the tables, studying Danny’s guidebook.
“Good morning,” Stephanie said chirpily, looking up from the book as we sat down. “How did you guys sleep?
“Not well,” Jess groaned, resting her head in her hand and stirring her yogurt. “Josie kept thinking she heard something so she turned the light on and off, like, a hundred times.”
Danny, Stephanie, and I all looked across the breakfast tables toward Josie, who was talking loudly about her belief that the hotel was haunted.
“She is ridiculous,” Stephanie said sympathetically.
“She’s the worst!” Jess whispered.
“Er, actually, I beg to differ. I think Sophie Parker is the worst,” I replied, having suffered greatly at the hands of Madame Queen Bee so far on this trip.
* * *
Reasons why sharing a room with Sophie Parker for two weeks is The Worst and will end with everlasting psychological trauma:
1. Do you know how I was woken on my first day in Rome? BY CHOKING.
Yes, that’s right, choking. Sophie was using so much hairspray that it filled the entire room—and my lungs. I woke up coughing through the haze before running to the window and throwing it open so I could get some fresh oxygen. She didn’t even apologize and continued to spray every tiny strand into place. What happens if next time I don’t wake up? EVER?
2. Instead of saying “Good morning,” she offers nonconstructive criticism.
The It Girl in Rome Page 5
