by Melody James
‘Hey, you’re in Gemma’s class, right?’ Sam flicks his hair from his eyes.
‘Yeah.’ Marcus stuffs his hands in his pockets.
Savannah lifts her chin. ‘He’s my date,’ she announces proudly.
‘Lucky guy.’ As Sam says and then heads for the ticket counter, Cindy stares after him.
Will steps into her line of sight. ‘So it’s Eisenstein for us Cinders?’
‘Of course,’ Cindy snaps. ‘I’ll get the tickets.’ She heads after Sam.
Barbara chases after her. ‘Cindy!’
Will unzips his leather jacket. ‘She’s just trying to impress me,’ he grunts.
‘Or you’re trying to impress her,’ I mutter under my breath.
‘What?’ He fixes me with one of his killer stares.
I fire it back at him. Rage is welling in my chest. ‘What’s with the art-house, Will?’ I still haven’t forgiven him for taking my byline. ‘Are you looking for ideas to steal?’
Will sticks a hand in his back pocket. ‘If you respect the artist, it’s not stealing; it’s homage.’
‘Homage?’ Savannah frowns. ‘Is that, like, a breakfast cereal?’
Treacle laughs. ‘Come on.’ She hooks her arm through mine and Sav’s. ‘Lets grab some good seats.
We head for the stairs leading to Screen Five.
‘Wait for me!’ Barbara races after us.
I halt, stunned. ‘What?’
‘I’m coming to watch Hearts Over Manhattan,’ she puffs.
‘What about Cindy?’ I search the foyer behind her. Cindy’s hovering beside Will at the ticket booth.
‘She wants to see that silent film.’ Barbara loops her handbag further up her shoulder. ‘I’m scared I’ll fall asleep in the middle and start snoring.’
I’m impressed. Barbara’s decided to fly solo. ‘Come on, then.’ I lead the way.
‘Have fun, boys,’ Savannah shouts to Jeff and Marcus over her shoulder.
‘Gemma!’ Jeff calls after me. ‘Wipe off your ketchup goatee.’ He points to his chin.
I turn to stone as I touch mine and feel a cold, wet blob of relish. It must have been there the whole time. No wonder Sam was staring at me.
Mortified, I wipe it off and then catch up with Treacle. ‘Why didn’t you tell me I was wearing half my hotdog?’
‘You looked kind of cute.’ She throws me a mischievous smile as we push through the double doors into the darkness. ‘And from the way he was looking at you, I reckon Sam thought so too.’
Jeff opens the door to the storeroom and lets me through. This is the webzine’s HQ. The friendly janitor cleared out most of the junk and set up six PCs on six ancient desks. There are still shelves of aging textbooks and glue pots lining the walls, and dust drifts down from an ancient lampshade hanging from a cracked ceiling, but I love the smell of crumbling wood and old paper. It’s kind of romantic. Like being in one of the old movies Mum watches when she gets a spare moment.
Cindy and Barbara are already here. Best friends since playgroup, they look like before-and-after photos – Barbara dresses like a Maths teacher and Cindy is cutting edge, sleek as the cover of Vogue.
‘Hi, Gemma,’ Barbara smiles at me warmly and I feel instantly guilty for my internal bitch-fest. Barbara’s actually really nice and, even though she writes the world’s most boring feature articles while I’m stuck shrinking freckles for Cindy (Barbara’s last offering: School Uniform – Why Smarter is Better), she never apologizes for being exactly who she is and I really admire that.
‘Hi, Barbara,’ I give her a small wave, feeling contrite, and shuffle behind a desk.
As I’m sliding into my seat, David and Phil Senior arrive. They’re twins and they’re OK. Kinda geek without the chic, but nice. They review gadgets and computer games for the webzine and they’re mad about graphic novels (which I always thought were just comics, but apparently I’m wrong). Straight away they’re showing one to Jeff, flipping through pages to show him the latest thrilling instalment of Cosmic Man or Blasto Boy or whatever.
The door swings open and Will blows in, the buckles on his leather jacket swinging. He sweeps his mop of dark brown hair away from his face and his smooth jaw and chiselled cheekbones catch the light. He’s a good-looking package but he should wear a warning sign: contents may offend.
‘Hi, Will,’ Cindy barely looks up from her clipboard. ‘Have you got another scoop for us?’ She’s using her couldn’t-care-less voice.
‘I’m working on it.’ Will slouches into the seat behind his favourite PC – it’s got the fastest processor in the room and he’s unofficially made it his own. I silently stick another imaginary pin in his imaginary heart and wait for him to clutch his chest and fall off his chair. He doesn’t. Instead he drops his book bag on the floor and stretches his long legs under his desk so his feet stick out the front.
Cindy glances at his size twelve biker boots. ‘Health and safety, Will,’ she chides.
‘Don’t worry, Cinders,’ Will says acidly. ‘If you trip, I promise I’ll catch you before you hit the floor.’
‘I’d rather hit the floor.’
‘I’m not sure the floor could handle it.’
Cindy meets his eye. ‘And you could?’
‘Bickering again?’ Sam’s voice makes me jump. He’s standing in the doorway watching Will and Cindy fight. There’s a strange gleam in his eye. Is he jealous of the sparks crackling between them?
He dumps his bag on the desk beside Cindy’s and sits down. ‘Don’t stop for me.’ He glances at Cindy from under his shaggy blond fringe. ‘I don’t want to interrupt.’
‘You’re not interrupting, Sam,’ Cindy tells him sweetly. ‘We were just waiting for you so we could start the meeting.’
I roll my eyes. Cindy’s been buzzing around Sam since the webzine started. And now it looks like he’s finally getting a taste for her honey.
‘Thanks, Cindy,’ he mumbles and stares at his hands.
She taps her clipboard with her pen and looks brightly around the room. ‘Once again, it was lovely to see my Inbox full.’
‘I’ll bet,’ Will mutters.
‘You’ve all submitted your articles, which I absolutely love.’ She’s not looking at me even though my horoscopes are one of the most popular features in the webzine. ‘Why don’t we quickly go over them in case I’ve missed something and them we can all go to lunch.’
David shoots up his hand. ‘Was it OK to make our whole feature about Call of Duty tips and tricks?’
Sam shakes his hair out of his eyes. ‘That’s fine by me. I can do with the help.’
Cindy cracks a wide smile. ‘Of course it is, David. I totally trust your judgment.’
Barbara slides David a look that takes me by surprise. There’s a gooiness in her gaze I’ve never seen before.
‘Barbara,’ Cindy turns her laser-beam attention-ray on to her best friend. ‘Thank you for submitting another fabulous article.’
Will slouches lower on his chair. ‘What’s this week’s revelation?’
Barbara lifts her chin proudly, ‘Detention: The Punishment that Keeps on Giving.’
Will grunts, ‘Giving what? Overtime to teachers?’
Barbara doesn’t flinch. ‘Breathing space,’ she tells him. ‘A quiet time to reconsider and work on improving oneself.’
‘You’ve outdone yourself, Babs,’ Will snorts.
I fight the urge to suggest he volunteers for a few weeks’ detention. He could do with improving and we all need the breathing space.
‘I think Barbara’s come up with an interesting point of view,’ David chips in. ‘I can’t wait to read it.’
Barbara smiles at him, a soft blush pinking her cheeks.
My romance detector starts flashing. Are there actually sparks flying in the storeroom that aren’t directed at Cindy? I quickly slide my jotter from my bag and scribble a note. Find out David’s star sign. Suddenly, Jessica Jupiter has a new match-making project. Maybe – with a well-worded p
rediction or two – she can bring David and Barbara together.
And who knows? With Barbara in love, her articles might heat up and start bubbling with interest. I’ll be doing the whole school a favour . . .
