Katie Cox Goes Viral

by Marianne Levy

  “Katie, can you get up? We need to have a chat about something. Everything. Up you get, Katie. I’ve put the kettle on.”

  He had also put on Mom’s flowery dressing gown, which was such a crime against humanity that I said I would only come out if he got dressed. I did say it in a nice way though.

  Well, fairly nice.

  Half an hour later, and we were a reasonably Okay-looking pair sitting at the kitchen table eating leftover Chinese takeout, although not the rice, because as I told Adrian, you shouldn’t eat leftover rice. Nicole once had some half-heated, fried egg special rice and puked so hard that parts of her stomach came out, and she had to go on an IV.

  “Right. I—” He saw my hair. “Oh dear.”

  “I know,” I said, feeling around on my forehead. “It’ll probably be Okay once I’ve styled it. I hope.”

  “You think?” Adrian asked.

  “No,” I admitted. “But it was worth it to have Lacey back. Anyway, what’s the drama?”

  “I’ve gotten a message from Tony,” said Adrian. “Quite a few, actually.”

  Bear in mind that it was still eight thirty in the morning.

  He held out his phone. “Want to listen?”

  “Not really,” I said.

  “Sure?” said Adrian. When he saw that I wasn’t going to take it, he carried on talking. “He was calling to say that he was sorry if you and he had a bit of a misunderstanding in his office the other day…”

  Which made me sit right up, I can tell you. “There was nothing to misunderstand! He was very clear.”

  “Well,” said Adrian, sticking his fork into a sweet-and-sour chicken ball that I’d had my eye on, “Tony was very clear to me too. Your single is out.”

  My mouth went slack, so it’s probably just as well I hadn’t eaten it.

  “Out out? As in, for people to buy?”

  “Yup.”

  “But…why?”

  “Doesn’t look good, big music man bullying a teenager. I don’t think he had any choice. Especially not once Karamel came out in your support.”

  “Karamel?” Savannah would freak.

  “There’s been some interest in your concert too. In fact, there’s been some interest altogether. Online petitions, people calling from the papers… You should probably take a look.”

  “I’m going to have a break from the Internet for a few days,” I told him, at which he nodded and said that was probably a good idea and he could see why I would want to but maybe not these few days.

  Then the doorbell rang and it was a delivery guy with an enormous bunch of flowers. Not to sound ungrateful, because no one had ever sent me flowers before so it was really pretty excellent, but they looked a little too big and exotic for our house. As if we’d stolen them from a funeral. There were handmade chocolate truffles too (and I’m never going to be down on truffles), plus a card that said,

  To Katie

  With love from all at Top Music

  It was signed by a load of people I didn’t know, and there, in the bottom corner, Tony. The nerve!

  I almost admired him.

  Almost.

  “So what are you going to do?” said Lacey, who was attempting to make a daisy chain and, I have to say, failing.

  “Well, I’ve got detention every night for the next week for skipping school. Even though McAllister said she liked the concert. Can’t have liked it that much, can she?”

  “I meant about the music stuff,” said Lacey.

  “Oh. That,” I said. Somehow, I was finding it all a little difficult to say. “They want me to go back and talk about doing an album.”

  “Cool.”

  “Do you want to be on it, Lace?”

  “Seriously?” said Lacey.

  “Seriously,” I said, and I meant it too.

  “Then, no, not really. Those music people sound horrible. But”—she gave my knee a squeeze—“thanks for asking.”

  “We’re having this big fight with them because they are saying it has to be while school’s in session and we’re not going to take any days off.”

  “You have the option to miss school, and you’re not even taking it? You are crazy,” said Mad Jaz.

  “Adrian’s probably right,” I admitted. “He was right about all the other stuff.”

  “So he’s your manager again? I thought you hated him.”

  “He’s fine,” I said.

  An then I got a little embarrassed and ducked my head, because I really don’t like going back on myself like that. Luckily, I don’t think anyone noticed.

  We all sat there for a while, and I heard the people talking in the dining hall and the seagulls that hang out on the playing field and some sixth-graders having a fight, and I felt sort of happy. Like I was in the right place for a change. That the people I was with were the right people, and more than that, I was the right person. Which I hadn’t experienced since the divorce. In fact, not for months and months.

  “Give me some money, babes,” said Savannah.

  “No. Why?”

  “I’m downloading your single, but I’m not paying for it.”

  It would have been nice for her to have made this clear before she’d hit “buy,” which I was about to tell her, when she gasped.

  “What? Actually, don’t tell me. I’m thinking I need a few days screen free—”

  “Number two.”

  “Number two what?”

  “‘Just Me’ is at number two.”

  “You are literally making no sense right now.”

  “You’re at number two. In the iTunes chart. Between Karamel and Taylor Swift.”

  “Show me.”

  She did.

  There was “Just Me,” with my name underneath in those neat, gray letters, looking so incredibly proper. And there was a little picture of my face, a still from the video, with my mouth open.

  Huh.

  Was I ready? No. Not even slightly.

  Was it what I wanted?

  Not any more than I had to start with.

  Probably, in some ways, quite a lot less.

  There was only one way to deal with this.

  “Lacey,” I said, “can I come over to your place tonight? I really want to watch Mean Girls.”

  “Mean Girls! I’ll be there,” said Jaz.

  To which Lacey folded her arms and said, “Er, I don’t think so.”

  “Please?” said Jaz.

  “Why?” said Lacey.

  Jaz looked away and said, “You two seem like you have fun together.”

  I thought, It must be pretty lonely being Jaz. Having to be mad all the time, when occasionally you just want to hang out and eat chips.

  And then I thought how lucky I was to have Lacey back as my BFF, and I gave her a look that said let’s open up the arms of friendship to someone less fortunate than we are, even though she is a bit crazy sometimes.

  “All right, you can come,” said Lacey.

  Which must be the first time one of my faces has ever worked. Ever.

  “But don’t steal anything,” said Lacey. “And don’t record us on your phone and stick it online, and don’t mess with my mom because I’ve already had no allowance for the last two weeks in a row and there are things I need to buy.”

  Jaz said she wouldn’t.

  Savannah flicked her hair.

  Nicole was attempting to remove her cuticles with a vegetable peeler.

  And I tried to imagine all those people listening to my song and watching the concert, all those pairs of eyes in bedrooms and on buses and maybe sitting behind the computers at their schools too, the millions of invisible connections between me and them, between my words and their ears, and for a second, just a second, I thought maybe I could.

  And then the whole thing dissolved, and it
was just me and Lacey—and Jaz and Nicole and Sofie and Savannah and Paige. And Amanda, over at the store, sending out the first message to her new mailing list, and Mom and Adrian calling the construction guys and probably doing something disgusting too.

  I guess I knew that things were about to change, but in my head, just for that second, I pressed pause on the moment, so I could enjoy it. Come back and live in it sometimes, when things got difficult, which I knew they would. But having one moment when everything was in balance, maybe that would make it Okay.

  And then I thought, Wow.

  That’s a great idea for a song.

  Can’t wait for Katie Cox’s next adventure?

  Here’s a sneak peek!

  So there I was, standing in the wings, ready to do my first major concert. I mean, seriously major, with masses of people watching and who knows how many more online.

  Even though I’d practiced and practiced, I was shaking so badly I could barely hold my guitar. My hands were dripping sweat, and there was a good chance that when I opened my mouth I’d barf all over the stage.

  It was no use telling myself that everyone gets nervous. Because this was no ordinary concert.

  I was about to sing live to twelve and a half thousand people.

  And each and every one of them wanted to kill me.

  About the Author

  Marianne Levy spent her twenties as an actor. She was in various TV shows and made a brief appearance in the film Ali G Indahouse, where she managed to forget both her lines. She’s been the voice of a leading brand of makeup, a shopping center, and a yogurt company. Marianne is a regular contributor to the Independent on Sunday. She lives in London with her husband, daughter, and a bad-tempered cat. Katie Cox Goes Viral is her first novel for older readers, and she is working on the sequel. Learn more at mariannelevy.com.

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