by Beth Garrod
OUCH.
Rach jabbed me in the thigh as if I might not have seen the four people and one dog, who were two metres away, smiling straight at us, watching her stab me in the leg. Could humans malfunction or was that just robots?
“Are you guys here for the final?” Lis broke the silence.
But none of us could muster words, so we accidentally mended the silence straight back, gawping like she’d grown a unicorn horn. Unihorn.
Amil stepped forward, ignoring our version of musical statues. “Hi, I’m Amil.”
He put his hand out. Towards me. INCOMING!! Hand, it’s your time to shine!
“What’s your name?”
OK – at least I could answer this.
But as I went to say, our hands made contact.
I was TOUCHING A HELICAN.
“ElleasemeeyounamBell … ah.”
He grinned awkwardly. “Sorry, I didn’t realize!” He spoke slower. “Do. You. Speak. English?”
All I could do was nod. Extra confusing, given that the answer should be yes. I side-eyed Rach for help, but she was pointing at my hand.
I was still hanging on to an exceptionally confused Amil. Maybe he’d think it’s customary in my country?
Luckily Tegan had my back. It would have been more helpful if she’d had my hand, but whatevs.
“Yup, this …” she pointed at me, “… is Bella.”
He smiled (maybe because I finally managed to let go of his hand), and with loads of chatter and hugs, the rest of the band introduced themselves, including Lis (like I couldn’t identify her, her dog, her mum, even the socks she wore on stage, at fifty paces). “You’ve been amaaaazing. So happy you got through. Your last answer was…” She kissed fingers and popped them apart.
Sorry, was this real?! Was I being complimented by Lis?!!
Tegan picked up on my involuntary nostril flares like they were tiny radio masts broadcasting distress signals straight to her brain.
“Bella’s saving her voice for the final.”
The One With No Name murmured as if this was incredibly wise, not an obviously massive lie. With me off the talking hook for a bit, we huddled round for some group selfies, Rach beaming so hard her teeth threw the white balance off.
I couldn’t believe they were talking to us like they were normal people too. Just like Shay said they would. I was in two minds whether to say hi from her, but she’d told me she’d message them instead, and I didn’t want to look desperate. Plus I still couldn’t form sentences, which cemented my decision. So I listened as the band chatted away about how they loved Rach’s shoes, asking Tegan about the Team GB badge they’d spotted on her bag, and saying how cool it was that vavavoom had messaged saying things had really picked for her. They didn’t even seem phased when Team Bella (as they called us) actually squeaked (positive: a least I could now make sound) when they played us the demo version of their new single. It was the best thing I’d ever heard. And when we told them that, they seemed genuinely made up.
Ears, LISTEN TO ME (and that should be your strong point). You are the coolest you are ever going to be right now.
Rosie then dug out a limited-edition hoodie for me, which they’d all signed. I didn’t want them to think I was ungrateful, but after a very enthusiastic “thank you” mouthing I gave it to Rach. I knew she’d wear it 24/7 for at least the next two years (including at parties and maybe even in swimming pools). When the band saw her swoon-flop on to a beanbag, clutching the hoodie to her like it was a newborn child, I think they totally got why I’d done it.
Sadly, the perfectness of being alone with them couldn’t last.
Because in a burst of perfectly waved hair and heels we could hear a full minute away, in walked Ska. Aka Letty. Aka Queevil. Aka the one we had to beat.
The band did a double take, not sure if she was a presenter, popstar or both.
Unlike us, Ska didn’t need them to make the first move, and jumped straight in with the most relaxed round of “Hiya”s. Without even acknowledging us, she opened up a massive paper bag she’d carried in and passed out posh-looking boxes to the band. “These are for you guys.”
Lis did a genuine, “Aaaaah!” as she opened hers to reveal a head-sized marshmallow printed with the cutest pic of Pastry, a miniature Fez on her head. They must have cost a bomb. The One With No Name, Rosie and Amil made similar sounds as they discovered the thoughtful pics Ska had chosen for them.
HOW DARE SOMEONE SO EVIL BE SO NICE! And excellent with print deadlines.
Rach threw me a satisfied smile. I knew exactly what she was thinking.
Mistake one. Ska had just proved she wasn’t as big a fan as us. Even entry-level Helicans fans knew Rosie, Amil and Lis were vegetarians.
But Ska caught our silent exchange and smiled at the band. “They’re vegan, obvs.”
Lis and Amil made an impressed “oooh” noise, as it obscured the “Queevil” Rach mixed in with a fake-cough. But before Ska could produce any more nicely evil (neevil) gifts, Lanyard Girl rushed back in and, with friendly waves goodbye, bundled the band out.
Then it was just us four. The last thing I wanted to do was be nice to Ska. Being civil was hard when she was pure evil, had rigged the votes with my eviler ex and had tried to get me kicked out. But part three of the plan was crucial: don’t let Ska see anything was up.
“Fancy seeing you here.” I laughed to show her it was a joke.
Instead of answering, she tapped at her phone screen, and with the most sickly, “Hiii, baaaabes,” she answered a call and strutted out of the room.
Tegan waited for the door slam before she spoke. “Anyone notice anything odd?”
I looked around. “The band forgot their marshmallows, yet not one of us has suggested eating them yet?”
Tegan shook her head. “Nope.” She held out her phone. “No reception. Which would make taking a call kind of tricky, right?”
Rach grinned. “Unless it was a call with your BIF … Best Imaginary Friend.”
Ha. So Ska wasn’t the mastermind she was pretending. She couldn’t even handle being in a room with the three of us.
Knowing that she had a chink in her armour put us all at a bit more at ease, and soon we were flicking through our photos and taking even more with random things we found in the room. (Lamp! Sofa! Water cooler!) By the time Lanyard Girl came to take us through to the studio, I’d almost forgotten how terrified I was. But as soon as she said the words, “Phones off, it’s time to start,” I remembered so hard, my right knee gave way and I wobbled into a large pot plant.
We made our way through a gazillion heavy doors, stopping under a big ON-AIR light. It might as well be flashing BELLA’S PANIC ROOM.
I stared through the huge thick glass window underneath it. Jaz and the band were sitting opposite each other, giant blue microphones hanging above their heads. Ska was already on a chair, her elbows on the mixing desk as if it was her second home. Another girl was sitting at the back of the room, looking a lot more like me i.e. petrified. That must be Aisha. Jaz winked through the glass and, as she pressed play on the band’s last single, beckoned us in.
Tegan pulled the heavy door open – but Lanyard Girl pushed it shut.
“Soz – it’s too small for all of you. Which one’s Bella?”
I raised my hand. Lanyard Girl’s smile faltered as she realized the person about to go live on their radio station was the one couldn’t use words.
“You guys can watch from here, OK?” She gestured the others to some seats where a couple of people I didn’t recognize were whispering amongst themselves, and bustled me through the door, shutting it firmly behind me.
Woah.
The final was finally happening.
Success or failure.
It was all down to me.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
Everything that made me feel better – Rach, Tegan, free biscuits – was now on one side of the door.
I, however, was trapped on the other side
, with only EVERYTHING THAT MADE ME FEEL TERRIFIED for company.
Being in a confined space with the Helicans.
✓
Being in a confined space with Jaz.
✓
Being in a confined space with Ska.
✓
Being in a room that could broadcast any
accidental hiccup to the world.
✓
Being in a room where in a matter of seconds
I would be representing St Mary’s.
✓
C’mon, Bells. Deep breath. You can only do your best.
Is what I should think. But who was I kidding? Doing my best wasn’t going to be good enough if I didn’t win! An entire school wasn’t going to NOT hate me just because, “I’d really had a very good go.” The fear was real. I HAD to win.
Jaz gestured me to sit alongside Ska, beckoning Aisha to do the same. Aisha waved a hello, and I waved back – both clearly relieved to have a fellow non-presenter, non-band, non-model person in the studio.
“Soooo…” Jaz jumped straight in with chat. It’s what Shay said – radio people ramble on with small talk to help get people’s confidence up. “Our final contestant Bella is in the hizzzzz-ouse!!!”
Everyone except Ska whooped. For the thirtieth time today I nodded.
“For everyone at home, that was a nod!” Ska laughed louder than necessary.
“So why don’t you tell everyone at home a little bit about the reeeal Bella Fisher?”
Jaz?! What are you doing to me?! Sometimes I have to build myself up to saying my chocolate selection at the front of the newsagent queue, let alone attempting a standing start at making hilarious conversation on live radio?!
“Erm, I’m Bella Fisher and…” This was my time to make an amazing, aloof, cool, first impression. I needed to focus. But instead I pictured everyone listening. My whole school. Adam. Ava. Literally everyone. “And I, er, like dogs. And crisps?” Silence. “And Daim bars?”
Jaz glanced around the studio not sure what to do with me. “Riiiiiight.” When she saw Amil giving me a thumbs up for managing words, she opted for general enthusiasm. “LOVE IT! Shall we crack on?”
The band cheered. I smiled back, grateful for their niceness. Outside Tegan and Rachel were waving enthusiastically like we hadn’t only been apart for fourteen seconds. But there was someone missing. Someone who should be sitting near them…
Luke.
When he wasn’t here today to support his girlfriend we knew we had it right.
He’d stayed at home to be with his laptop – to make sure she won.
But I HAD to stop worrying.
We’d put our own plan in action. Done all we could. And soon I’d find out if it had worked.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
Jaz played three songs back to back so she could step out and chat in secret with the producer. When she came back in it sounded like drama was going down.
“So, guyyyyys, we’ll get stuck into the final in just a sec, but before we do, it’s time for some DUH DUH DUH breaking news…!” I gulped so loud that Jaz had to temporarily mute the mics. “As you know … we like to keep things fair, here at Radio Shire.”
Unless … could this be to do with what we’d planned?
Outside, Rach grabbed Tegan’s leg. They were thinking the same thing.
“This morning we got an email in from one of the head teachers of the finalists.” Jaz waved a bit of paper into the mic (no one at home would know it wasn’t the email, but a baked potato menu for the local café). “Who rightly pointed out that the three schools in the final aren’t anywhere near the same size – which kinda gives a couple of our finalists an advantage…” Jaz looked apologetically at Aisha and I like we were about to be massively disappointed, cos our schools were both huge. But Jaz couldn’t be more wrong. Because it might have been Tegan’s bright idea to put this very thing on the radar of the Head of JOGS. A little email from an ‘anonymous concerned parent’ to say if they really wanted to win, it might not be an advantage that their school was so very exclusive.
Luke had confirmed they were taking it seriously when he’d bragged about them giving Ska extra tuition for it. Thanks, Puke.
“So, what with such an intimate Helicans gig up for grabs, we thought who better to judge the final than … the band themselves!”
Amil and Rosie “Ooooh”-ed. But I wanted to YEEEEE-HAW (Argh! The cowboy noises had returned!) around the studio whirling a victory lasso in the air. We’d done it! The public vote was off! Plan Stop Luke had worked and it had been Ska’s very own head teacher that had made it happen. And Ska was fuuu-ming.
This couldn’t have gone more to plan. I did my best discreet air-high-fiving at Rach and Tegan who looked as happy as me.
“So down to business. Final question time. Letty, Aisha, Bella, write your answers down then we’ll get you to read them out one by one, OK?”
I took the paper Jaz handed me, my hand trembling more than in the last five mins of an exam when I still had a billion words to write.
“Lis you ready?”
“Sure am. It’s so great to finally meet you guys.” Lis smiled at us, like we were all just round a mate’s house. “Ska – thanks for the marshmallows, obvs I’ve already eaten mine.”
Ska purred, “No probs, babe.”
“Aisha – can I just say I need to know where that scarf is from – I’ve got envy for days.” Aisha looked like she was going to hyperventilate with glee. And Bella…”
OMG LIS WAS TALKING TO ME AND PEOPLE AROUND THE WORLD COULD ACTUALLY HEAR.
“You’ve got a friend for life in Rosie.”
OMG, LIS JUST SAID ROSIE WOULD BE MY FRIEND.
“On tour I swear she sometimes exists on Daim cake.”
OMG, I DIDN’T KNOW DAIM CAME IN CAKE FORM.
Life = peaked.
Thank goodness Mikey had promised to record this.
“So we thought hard about a good final dilemma.”
I crossed everything I had, including my legs – which made me almost fall off my stool – that it was something I could answer.
Amil jumped in. “And we’ve gone with one we get aallll the time…” My heart was thundering in my ears as Amil read it out slowly. “How can we reply when yet another journalist asks us, ‘Can girls and guys ever truly be friends?’”
Woah. So THIS was the grand finale.
What a weird question. I’d never even thought about it?
The other two had already started to scribble stuff down. But no words were coming to me. The band gave me an encouraging smile. As if the Helicans smiling at you would calm anyone down?!
But I HAD to think of something good. I HAD to win.
Can girls and guys ever truly be friends?!
Of course! The question was too simple. There must be more to it.
I stared at Teeg, trying to channel her amazing ability to know what the secret complex meaning is in stuff. But the soundproof studio was blocking our vibes out and all I had in my head was radio silence (which was about to lead to an even worse IRL radio silence).
EIGHTEEN, SEVENTEEN, SIXTEEN.
My brain felt like a wordsearch.
But, WAIT.
Amil had said it was all about what the band could say, and considering two of them were guys and two were girls, they already proved the answer was, “Of course, duh.” So the question wasn’t really about if people could be friends, it was more about other people reading into it.
Yes, brain! I knew giving you an extra slice of toast was a good idea.
So what could my answer be?!
Ska suddenly sat up, smiling.
“Nailed it! I’m ready to go!” Trademark hair flick/deliberate interruption to throw Aisha and I off.
But there was still time. I had to ignore her. DO me.
And with a couple of seconds left I scribbled down what I could.
But would it be enough? As Jaz hit zero, and the studio broke out into
“woooh”s and “let’s gooooo”s, I pushed my paper back and tried to remember how to breathe. As she’d done best in the semi, Ska was up first. She shone a megawatt confident smile round the studio.
“So … my answer is.” It was like she’d already thought she’d won. “Next time someone asks you if guys and girls can be friends, your answer should be a massive, big, fat…” (Please say “no” and annoy the band!) “YES.”
Oh.
She winked at Amil. “And if your friends just happen to be extra hot, then they can soon become friends with benefits. If you know what I mean?”
Er, no. The only benefits I’d ever want from my friends were for them to carry around spare biscuits.
Surely the band were going to hate this answer? But annoyingly they didn’t look at all revolted. Instead they had a quick whisper to themselves before Lis leaned back to the mic.
“Thanks, Letty – good to see you’re a believer in keeping your options open. Aisha – what do you reckon we should do?”
I hadn’t heard Aisha speak yet, and when she opened her mouth, her voice was so fragile I was worried it wouldn’t make it all the way to the microphone.
“Not to copy, but I’m with L-Letty.” She held up her paper as proof. Letty winked again, as if this cemented her victory. “I s-s-said: ‘Anyone can be friends, cos it’s about personality, and looking out for each other, not…’” She paused. But Jaz encouraged her on. “‘… What’s in your pants?!’”
Aisha flung her hand over her mouth as if she couldn’t believe her one moment of fame involved talking about trouser-contents. She dropped her paper and nervously freestyled. “I’m sorry?! I couldn’t think of another word for it. And anyway, and this isn’t my answer, cos I didn’t have time to write it, but I wanted to say, you guys already totally prove it, cos you formed six years ago, and have been through break-ups and make-ups and record deals and world tours, and are total friendship goals, so if anyone even bothers to ask you that again, you can just be like, duh-dah!” Aisha flung her arms out, almost hitting me in the face. “And all, ‘Why don’t you come expand your tiny minds by hanging out on our tour bus for a bit?!’”
