What She Does Next Will Astound You

by Patrick Ness

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  TEN

  THIS CHAPTER WILL PROVE YOU’VE BEEN WRONG ABOUT YOUNG MEN YOUR WHOLE LIFE

  A Vlog by Seraphin on Truthordare.com

  Hi, Everyone,

  Yeah, hi. Yeah. Soooo, manic day. Just back from the theme park and that’s pretty great, and the kids’ hospital—that was great too and there was so much to see there that I’ll vlog about it all soon, but for today I’m just wandering around my flat. Yeah, I’m doing my laundry today. Look at this—these are my pants. Yeah. My last set of pants. My dirty pants. Today, cringe, I am wearing no pants.

  Sorry about that, internet. I’m wearing no pants. Yeah.

  None. No pants. LE GASP!

  All I’m wearing now is this T-shirt. Yeah. The one with the sponsorship logo on it. And yes. I have been wearing that for a few days. Is that an egg stain? I believe it is. Damn you, omelette.

  That’s going in the wash now too. See?

  Yes. I am starkers. In my kitchen. But that’s okay. From this angle you can’t see a thing. Not a thing. Apart from . . . Oops, cheeky, yes, I did just go past the full-length mirror in the hall. You can see that again. Yeah. You’ve seen my butt. Ha. Ha. Ha. Gif it now!

  Yeah, Seraphin’s got a butt. News. Flash. Hope you like it. Now then, argh, I’m nearly out of laundry powder. My life. My life.

  So. How are you? Good. Good. Me? I’m fine. There, that’s the mixed load on. Not a sports wash. What is a sports wash even for? What does that even mean? When I’ve been playing sport—well, you’ve all seen me jogging. I look rank. I smell worse. What is the point of a fifteen-minute wash? No way is that going to even touch that smell. Yeuf.

  Now, I know I’m going to get tweets about that—creepy tweets. Someone out there is right now demanding to smell my old sports socks and I tell you this now, Dad, you are awful. Hahahah.

  Anyway, that’s the laundry on, so let’s get down to work.

  ’Cos this is a—tanta-ta-tantatattaaaaa!—sponsored vlog for truthordare.com. Their mission is simple—they want your truths, your dares—whatever, how shocking, how risky, how shameful—because you’re not doing it for you, you’re doing it for Skandis.

  Yeah, okay, it’s for charrrrrrrrrrriteeeeeeee. Sad face, mournful little frown, oh yeah. We’re fighting Skandis. Some of the kids in hospital today, they’ve been battling Skandis for a long time and it is, seriously, really bad. And we can, if we get together, we can cure it.

  Truthordare.com—we want your stunts, your dares, your whatevs.

  There is only one rule. There is no such thing as oversharing. Honestly. Again. I’m nekkid. If I was to tilt the camera down, two things would happen.

  1) You would see everything.

  2) The internet, well, it would melt.

  So the camera stays where it is. For now. But that may change.

  The ice challenge? That was just the start of it. What happens next . . . It’s in your hands.

  Anyway, I’m going to just . . . just . . . there we are, can you see it? The washing going round in the machine? Can you see that? Lovely. Brilliant. Oh look, there go some pants. And . . . there they are again . . . We should make a YouTube channel of this. What do you think? Let me know.

  Anyway, while the washing finishes itself, I’m off to test a new hoverboard (advert up in a second, vlog later on this week). So, I’ll leave you with this, my friends: Truth or Dare: You can never share too much. Never. Share. Too. Much.

  Anyway. If you enjoyed that, subscribe. If you want something similar, click on the links. Seraphin out.

  ELEVEN

  THIS GIRL WANTED AN ADVENTURE HOLIDAY. YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHERE SHE ENDED UP

  The girl was screaming. She was crying underneath the helmet. She knew that no one could see the tears, but they could probably hear the screaming.

  She knew they were watching. She knew they were listening. She’d lost her weapon and she was wounded and they weren’t going to help her, they were just going to watch her die.

  She made herself look at the creature coming towards her.

  ‘NORMAL’ the screen in her helmet told her, and, hysterically, she laughed. ‘No way is that normal.’

  A tentacle whipped out towards her.

  She scrabbled away, scurrying up a steep sandbank.

  ‘I’ve got to get out of here,’ she said, looking around for a way out. Wherever she looked, her helmet told her ‘ABNORMAL’.

  ‘I know what you’re doing,’ she said, her voice shaking.

  ‘You want me to look at that thing.’ She turned and faced the creature.

  ‘NORMAL’ her helmet told her.

  ‘Oh God,’ she said.

  The creature stopped, leaning over her, its face pushing in, curious.

  ‘NORMAL.’

  The girl screamed.

  For a moment the picture on her helmet juddered as something whipped across it. There was a crack, a wet, tearing noise and a final scream.

  Then the picture cleared. The helmet was lying on its side, the camera showing a picture of the ground, and that terrible creature dragging itself closer.

  ‘NORMAL.’

  TWELVE

  FIND OUT WHY THE GOATS DO NOT GET TO DANCE ON THE TUBE

  Matteusz had come to dread one word most of all.

  ‘Question?’ That word.

  Matteusz looked up from filing jewels on his phone. Charlie was standing over him. He was wearing that look on his face. The really severe yet childish look that said he was about to ask about butterflies or fossil fuel or Nigel Farage or . . . well, look, it could be anything. It was always exhausting. Matteusz wondered if Charlie knew about Santa Claus. That was going to be a long day. In an emergency, he could just hide behind his Polishness until it went away.

  Charlie was still staring at him. Waiting for an answer. Best get on with it.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘What is oversharing?’ Charlie asked. ‘I do not understand.’

  ‘Truthordare.com. The website. They are asking us to overshare. It seems very popular at Coal Hill. I wonder what that means.’

  ‘The website?’

  ‘They want videos. Like the boy who burned himself. They want more of those—is that what oversharing is? Are they asking people to hurt themselves?’

  ‘Not exactly. It is about putting yourself online.’

  ‘Is the idea to create a virtual artificial version of your personality so you can be resurrected after death?’ Charlie looked incredibly thoughtful, his eyes wandering to the cabinet in the corner. ‘Is that it?’

  ‘Not so much, no. It is strange. You must tell everyone all of your life.’

  ‘I have no problems with that.’

  ‘You would not. But for some, it is too much.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘People like to bully. Bully?’

  ‘Yes. Bullying. Got that.’

  ‘Bullying needs information. The more you tell people about yourself, the more they have on you. That you feel fat. That your parents are divorcing because your father has had affair. That you are sad.’

  ‘That happens when you say something like that out loud? But why? And if so, why would you do it?’ Charlie looked appallingly puzzled. Matteusz wanted to kiss him. Charlie wanted to kiss him back.

  ‘Because,’ Matteusz said after a moment, ‘people are very strange. Life does not happen unless you put photo on Facebook, unless you tweet it. Unless you post video on YouTube. It is like philosophy.’

  Charlie leaned back from Matteusz. For a golden moment it seemed as though the conversation would stop and something much more interesting would start. Sometimes it went this way and Matteusz rather hoped it would.

  ‘I worry I am too private,’ Charlie announced.

  ‘No,’ snapped Matteusz
, too quickly. ‘You really, really do not need to say more.’

  ‘Don’t I?’ Charlie was rubbing the back of his neck and looking really confused. ‘But why not—won’t that seem suspicious?’

  Matteusz took his hand. As ever, it didn’t feel quite right. Too hot? Too cold? Just a momentary bump until the flesh felt entirely real and correct. And then holding Charlie’s hand felt the most natural thing in the world.

  ‘No. You have a pretty face but you do not understand our world. Almost everything you say is suspicious. If you say more, you will start to seem really weird.’

  ‘I would like to belong. I could vlog,’ announced Charlie. ‘On this YouTube.’

  Matteusz burst out laughing. ‘You sound like old teacher. No.’

  ‘But what about you? Do you have YouTube in Poland?’ Matteusz suddenly went very quiet and still. When he spoke his voice was solemn and sad. ‘No. Poland is very poor country. We just have tube. It is big tube. Tube is carried by cart from village to village. When it arrive in village square you must dance in front of tube for everyone to watch. We dance for the men, for the women, for the goats. Whoever pay to watch tube.’

  ‘I see,’ said Charlie. He nodded, terribly seriously. He was chewing this over. ‘That is very sad. But . . .’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Surely, if you . . . Wait. You are mocking me?’

  ‘Of course.’ Matteusz tapped him on the nose.

  ‘That’s not fair.’ Charlie frowned.

  ‘It is not. But when you are confused it makes you handsome.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘If you like I could dance for you like I do in front of tube.’

  ‘I would. I would like that.’

  THIRTEEN

  THE LETTER COAL HILL SCHOOL DOESN’T WANT YOU TO SEE

  StandardDisappearanceLetter

  (TrueVersionDONOTSEND).doc

  [DATE]

  Dear [Parent],

  Following my phone call, I am writing to confirm that your child, [child name], is currently missing from Coal Hill School without explanation.

  This is because they were taken on holiday by you without permission/killed by aliens/eaten by a dragon/playing truthordare.com/they just ran away screaming [delete as applicable].

  If your child is on holiday with you, you’ll be pleased to hear that they’re one of the lucky ones. Especially if you have travel insurance.

  Faithfully yours,

  FOURTEEN

  HOW TOAST IS LIKE LADY GAGA

  A Vlog by Seraphin on Truthordare.com

  Hey, everyone. It’s a slow news day. I’m stuck indoors. Totally trapped. I’ve got my hair cut. Do you like it? Hit me up and let me know. The products are available from the ads at the end, but I tell you this, they do make my hair really smooth. And they smell like chocolate. That’s nice.

  There’s some amazing stuff coming in from you lot. This is going so well.

  Here’s Jalpur, with some really great footage of when she found out her boyfriend was cheating on her. Look, there she goes, sneaking up on them. While they are in the car. HIS DAD’S CAR.

  And look, look at them screaming, and he’s shouting and . . . oh dear. Jalpur really is going for the car with that cricket bat. That is nasty. I’m just glad it’s not her ex, but she is pretty amazing. Ooh. There go the wing mirrors.

  And what else have we got? This is Travis. He’s been doing stunt gliding. This is all from his GoPro. Yeah. I’m going to shut up for a minute so you can watch.

  Still quiet.

  Still really quiet. Not. A. Word.

  Isn’t that amazing? And look, he’s landed safe. I, like, really can’t believe that. Can you beat that and beat Skandis?

  I bet you can. Thanks Travis. You’re amazing.

  So, anyway, here I am in my kitchen. Let’s talk about toast. Isn’t that one of the best words in the language? Toast. Toast. Toe-ast. Going out? Say you meet someone and want them to come back? Well, ignore all the cheesy chat-up lines. Just go for ‘Fancy some toast?’

  No one ever says no to that. And the people who do. Well, they’re monsters.

  So, let’s look at how to cook toast. SERAPHIN’S GUIDE TO TOAST.

  You will need some bread. Sliced. Or not. It can be white or brown.

  You will need a toaster. You will need some jam.

  Or not jam. I’m easy. So you can be too.

  For instance, maybe peanut butter or one of these savoury yeast-flavoured spreads who’ve decided not to sponsor this vlog so we won’t name them.

  And butter. Or margarine. If you’re one of those weird people who like vintage clothes and the 1980s. Bleurgh.

  So.

  Put your bread in the toaster. And tick tock tick tock.

  While you wait . . . and wait . . . and wait . . . Grab some knives and a plate and get ready for a snack that is delicious any hour of the day or night.

  And PING! There we go. Look at that. Look at this lovely brown toasty toasty goodness. And ouch ouch, it is hot. Careful. Don’t burn off your fingertips otherwise you’ll only be good for a life of crime. Ahahahah.

  Now then, what shall I have on the toast? Eh? So many choices. I’m in a bit of jam. A bit of a jam! How will I get out of it? But, er, here’s peanut butter! I like mine smooth, not chunky. What about you lot, are you chunky or smoothies? Let me know. Especially if, like me, you’re just stuck indoors. You know. A prisoner in your own home. That kind of thing happens.

  There we are. All buttered up and ready to go! Doesn’t that look amazing? And mmmmf, ooh, there are crumbs all down my chest. Bad me.

  Right. That’s it. Seraphin out. Send us your truths and dares on truthordare.com.

  ‘That’s weird,’ said April.

  ‘He is,’ agreed Tanya. ‘He’s like something made in a factory.’ She considered the thought. ‘A really nice factory.’

  They were all sat in the classroom, their feet up on desks. The challenges were spreading across the school. Some of them were brave, some of them were really, really idiotic, and some of them just seemed mean. The latest thing was stealing money from people smaller than you, claiming it was for Skandis.

  So, they’d found themselves wondering if Miss Quill was right to be suspicious about the site. Mind you, she was suspicious about everything. Still, there was no harm in checking how the site was going.

  ‘What is the problem with this Seraphin?’ asked Charlie. ‘Is he not what ordinary teenagers are like?’ Everyone looked at him for a moment.

  Matteusz threw a pencil at him.

  ‘No one has his life. We all would like it. He gets to be him. He is rich. He will never have to work.’

  ‘He goes to parties,’ said Tanya.

  ‘He can play so many instruments.’ April nodded happily. ‘And really well.’

  ‘And ALL his friends are famous,’ said Tanya.

  ‘Yes.’ Charlie still wasn’t convinced. ‘Are famous people good friends with one another? How does that work?’

  ‘Who cares?’ Tanya laughed. ‘They’re famous.’

  ‘That, that’s not the point, though,’ April insisted.

  ‘There was something odd about that video. Like he was trying to say . . . something he wasn’t saying.’

  ‘A hidden message?’ Matteusz looked sceptical.

  ‘Really?’ Tanya gestured at the screen. ‘Just because he’s on this video site, does that make him . . . part of it? Whatever “it” happens to be?’

  ‘It’s just the way, he . . . no.’ April squinted. ‘Just the toast bit. Seemed really pointless.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Charlie.

  ‘All of it is pointless,’ Matteusz argued. ‘But people still watch it.’

  ‘Because of the hair,’ insisted Tanya. ‘That hair.’

  ‘Oh yes.’ Charlie nodded. ‘The hair is pretty amazing.’

  ‘Also,’ Tanya giggled, ‘do you think he ever wears clothes? I’ve seen less of Tom Daley.’

  They carried on talking. April, silent,
let them. She was absorbed by the picture on the screen. She was missing something really important. It had drifted past but it had been there.

  ‘We’re walking home now, are we?’ said Ram.

  ‘Strictly speaking,’ said April, ‘you’ve been ignoring me and I’ve been following behind you.’

  ‘Not behind. Just alongside. A bit,’ Ram said. He’d not really known what to do. After the first hundred yards, when it had got really awkward.

  ‘What are the chances of you telling me what’s up?’

  ‘Nothing’s up.’ Ram kicked a stone. Well, he tried kicking it with New Leg. Instead of soaring off in a neat arc it skittled down the pavement a bit. But April didn’t seem to notice. Good. Football, really not her thing.

  ‘Is it your leg?’ asked April. Damn. ‘This is like Twenty Questions. Twenty Questions to make sure you’re okay.’

  ‘And you care since when?’ Ram asked.

  ‘Since the whole place went crazy. I mean, the latest crazy.’

  ‘The dares thing?’

  ‘The dares thing,’ confirmed April. ‘The boy that got burnt. He was on your team, yeah?’

  Ram nodded. Let’s move this on.

  ‘And now, all day I’ve seen people doing stupid stuff. Went to the loo, there was a girl picking glass out of her hand.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘No idea,’ said April. ‘But I get a feeling. When odd stuff happens here. It’s like getting a cold, you know—couple of warning coughs, bit light-headed, and then suddenly the world goes bang.’

  Ram realised what she was going on about. ‘The stunts?’

  ‘Yeah.’ April rubbed her head up and down against the bars, trying to settle. ‘Couple of warning coughs.’

  Ram reached into his backpack, pulled out some water. ‘Want some?’ he said, hoping she wouldn’t.

  ‘No, you’re good,’ April said. ‘It’s just . . . I mean. It’s all so stupid. Like that kettle stunt.’

  ‘Or any of the others,’ Ram said.

  ‘Any of them. Hey, let’s jump off a roof. Hey, let’s swim the Thames. Hey, let’s skateboard through traffic. And, of course, the latest thing, some girls are doing competitive dieting.’