Star Reporter (13 page)

I pursed my lips thoughtfully.

“Any idea what Riverside Secondary School is like?”

E-PETITION Number of signatures: 1534

Things are starting to settle down again at Bond HQ. I'd really missed hanging out with Molly and Shenice. Even though we only fell out for a few days, it felt like the world had ended and it was great to be giggling and chatting with them again. Liam tried to have a go at me for exposing the truth about JOJ but his heart wasn't really in it and I decided that he was secretly pleased it was gone. I'm just guessing here but it MIGHT have something to do with Anjel stopping me after their WOLF BRETHREN rehearsal on Wednesday night and congratulating me for standing up to the bullies. I really like her. Hope they don't get together – aside from the fact that Molly would be totally devastated, Anjel is WAY too good for Liam. All I need now is to learn how to do MEMORY CHARMS so that I can erase Nathan's memory of me redecorating his shoes and life will be back to normal.

Mr Bearman stopped me after English today and asked me if I'd had any trouble as a result of coming clean. I thought about telling him what had happened after school on Monday but Kelly had stayed out of my way since and I reckoned she'd leave me alone from now on.

“Not really, sir.”

“Good,” he said. “Let me know if Kelly bothers you. You did a really brave thing by blowing the whistle.”

It didn't feel brave at the time – it felt like I was doomed. But I didn't say that. “Thanks, sir.”

“HEY JUDE'S! is restarting after the half-term holiday, with a brand-new editor and a strict code of practice,” he said, looking at me enquiringly. “Mel and Kieran are staying on. I hope you'll continue as our Year Seven Correspondent?”

I thought about it for a few seconds. Being a reporter had seemed like fun at the beginning but I'd seen a nasty side to the job that I didn't really like. I didn't seem to have much of a nose for a story, either. “Probably not, sir. I don't think journalism is my Thing after all.”

He sighed. “Well, if you change your mind, you know where I am.”

And that was it – my chance at the Golden Nib Award was gone.

Never mind, plenty of other awards in the sea… I wonder how hard it is to win the Nobel Peace Prize?

Saying sorry to Hannah was one of the hardest things I've ever done. She wasn't exactly warm when I tracked her down in the playground, but at least she listened. And when I'd finished grovelling and explaining and grovelling some more, she stared at me for the longest time before she spoke.

“Just don't do it again, okay?”

I nodded as hard as I could and she almost smiled as she walked away. Heaving a sigh of relief, I went to find Molly and Shenice. I've definitely learned my lesson – the only juice I'll be sharing from now on is the kind you get from oranges.

We'd got to the final lesson of the day when I was summoned to Mrs Pitt-Rivers's office. The idiots on the back tables let out a low rumble, as though I was in trouble for something. Outwardly I ignored them, but inside I was worried. What if Kelly had found a way to blame me for something on JUICE ON JUDE'S? What if Mrs Pitt-Rivers had the phone in her hand right this minute, poised to call my mum?

“Ah, Cassidy,” she said when I poked my head around the door to her office. “Come in and sit down, please.”

I did as I was told, scrutinizing her face for a clue that I was about to be hauled over the coals. There wasn't one – she looked as grumpy as she always did.

“I've been asked to talk to you about your petition,” she said, folding her hands on the huge wooden desk in front of her.

I blinked. The petition? I'd almost forgotten about that. It felt like a lifetime ago that I'd started it and such a lot had happened. Come to think of it, wasn't it that petition that had got me noticed by Kelly in the first place? And now it looked like Mrs Pitt-Rivers had found out about it. Great.

“Okay,” I replied, preparing for a telling-off.

She stared at me for a moment, then sighed. “While it's hardly a matter of national importance, it appears that the Governors have heard your rallying cry. Having reviewed the school uniform policy, they've decided to amend it. After the half-term break, girls may wear trousers to school if they choose.”

BOOM! It was like an earthquake had hit my central nervous system. I shook my head to clear it, certain I must have misheard. Had she really just said that the Governors had listened to our views? And that something I'd done had actually made a difference? I sat back in the seat, stunned.

“Wow,” I said faintly. “Really?”

Her lips thinned. “Yes, really.”

“Wow,” I said again. “Thanks, miss.”

She stared at me for a few more seconds, then shuffled some papers around on her desk. “It seems you've made quite an impact since you joined St Jude's, Cassidy.” Her eyes crinkled into the merest hint of a smile. “I do like people who stand up for what they believe in. Well done.”

I got up, wondering if there were any more aftershocks waiting to hit me. Had Mrs Pitt-Rivers just given me a compliment? Or was I totally deluding myself?

“Thanks,” I said and tottered back to my lesson. As I walked, the full impact of what I'd achieved hit me. My petition might not have reached the hallowed doors of Westminster but it had definitely done its job. We'd taken on the establishment and we had won!

I can't wait to come back after the half-term holidays. Never mind that a mini-heatwave is forecast for the beginning of June and temperatures are set to soar – trousers are the new black and I'm going to make sure every single girl wears them!

There's something magical about the last day before half-term. The teachers are too tired to set much work, the kids are too busy making plans to concentrate on much and everyone has one eye on the clock. Since I was pretty sure the whole MAY BALL / JOJ thing had put Nathan off me for life, I'd given up hope that we'd ever share a SUGAR RUSH MOUNTAIN MOMENT again and I couldn't wait for the holidays to start. Even a week with Mum and the twins was better than another week of being ignored. She'd promised to take us out for the day, although knowing my luck it would be somewhere like Baby Yoga.

Anyway, by the time the bell finally rang at the end of the day, I couldn't get out of the door fast enough. As Molly, Shenice and I walked down the road, a sense of peace descended on me. One whole week in which the biggest drama would be where Rolo had hidden my shoes.

“Are we doing anything next week?” Shenice asked.

I shrugged. “You can come over to mine for a sleepover, if you want.”

Molly shook her head so hard her curls bounced out of their ponytail. “What, and stay awake all night listening to the twins? No, thanks.”

I smiled. “It's okay, they sleep through the night now.”

She let out a heavy sigh. “Really? But now where am I supposed to go when the zombie apocalypse happens?”

Shenice dug into her bag and pulled out a brightly coloured flyer. “Speaking of places to go, my mum gave me this last night.”

She held it out and Molly and I stopped walking to study it.

“ETON DORNEY DANCE AND DRAMA ACADEMY,” I read. “UNLEASH YOUR INNER SUPERSTAR?”

“It's not on until the summer holidays but Mum says it's being run by a friend of hers who used to be on in the West End,” Shenice explained. “I think it might be a laugh. Fancy it?”

I thought about our family summer holiday to Happy Sands – a drama school might be exactly what I need to take my mind of the fact that I will probably be an OAP before I get to meet Mickey Mouse. I gazed down at the flyer, imagining myself standing on a stage with an adoring audience staring up at me. A buzz of excitement hit me – what if ACTING was my THING?

“What do you think?” I asked Molly, knowing long before I saw the enthusiasm in her eyes that she'd be up for it. Molly is an amazing singer – she's going to be a real star one day.

“Are you kidding?” she said. “Let's do it!”

We wandered along, planning what we'd be best at. Then my phone pinged. I pulled it out of my pocket, saw Nathan's name and shoved it quickly away again, before the others could see the screen.

“Who was that from?” Molly demanded, grabbing my hand and yanking my phone back out. “I knew it!”

She held it out and showed Shenice.

“It's from HIM,” Shenice breathed, her eyes wide. “Aren't you going to read it?”

I shook my head. “No. I've decided I'm done beating myself up over something I can't change.”

“Oh, for goodness' sake! The two of you need your heads banging together,” Molly said, and she snatched the phone out of my hand. Her face didn't change as she read the message and carried on walking as though nothing had happened.

And now I was torn. On the one hand, I didn't want to know what the message said, but on the other, the suspense of not knowing was killing me. “Well?”

“Well what?” she asked. “I thought you were done.”

I counted to ten. “I am but now that you've read it, I want to know what it says.”

She lifted the phone and opened up the message. “It says,
Hey Cassie, Want to climb Sugar Rush Mountain again sometime?
”

“It does not!” I squealed, feeling my skin turn bright red, all the way up to my hair. “Oh Em Gee, it does not.”

Molly grinned and showed Shenice. “It does.”

“Looks like he still likes you,” Shenice said in a sing-song voice.

YES! I totally cannot believe it – Nathan Crossfield, the COOLEST boy in the school, is not completely revolted by me. Better still, he wants to share a milkshake with me! Do not tell Mum I said this but MAYBE she was right about sticking things out at St Jude's, especially now I've exposed Kelly and struck a blow for women's rights – at least where our legs are concerned. It gives me a lovely warm feeling to know that when Ethel is old enough to start St Jude's, she'll be allowed to do it in trousers. I reckon that Che Guevara dude would approve.

Journalism might not be my Thing but I've definitely learned a trick or two. Now bring on that Sugar Rush!

Read on for a sneak preview…

Ugh, it is too hot.

I know it is July and supposed to be sunny but it said on the news that the temperature in England is hotter than Greece, which I can totally believe. Rolo spends all his time lying flat on the floor, panting like he has just conquered Everest, the twins seem to be in training for THE GREAT BRITISH GRUMP OFF and apparently the roads might melt if it goes on much longer, which is not going to help with anything. How will the ice cream van get down our street with much-needed supplies if the tarmac is streaming like molten lava?

“It's because of climate change,” Shenice told us as we dragged our sweaty, overheated selves home from school one blistering Tuesday afternoon near the end of term.

“Climate change?” Molly asked, fanning her face with a wilting copy of the Year Seven newsletter. “Is that like the French exchange programme but with weather instead of students?”

Shenice shook her head. “No, it means the world is getting hotter and we have no one to blame but ourselves. Thanks to Man's selfish actions, the planet is heating up and basically we're all doomed unless we take positive action to stop it now.”

Eek. I glanced sideways at Molly – this wasn't what we usually talked about on the way home from school. Normally, we argue about who is the hottest member of THE DROIDS or whether Mr Peterson's lessons could get any duller, but ever since Shenice's mum went on a big demonstration march in London last month, she's been all about the environmental friendliness and a tiny bit is rubbing off on Shenice. I can't see how men could be causing the entire earth to overheat, though, no matter how selfish they are – although now I come to think of it, some of Liam's farts are pretty toxic. I know older brothers are supposed to be gross but he is off the charts disgusting so I can totally see how he might contribute to the end of life as we know it. My little brother, Joshua, is less to blame – even the hardest eco-warrior wouldn't blame an eight-month-old baby for the pollution his bottom emits. And then it dawned on me that Shenice meant MAN as a species, not men as individuals, and everything made a lot more sense.