The Bex Factor (10 page)

Bex

‘What the hell do you think you’re playing at?’ says Mrs Layton, when she sees all the mess on the kitchen table. ‘I’ve endured three whole days
of your execrable cooking and God knows how many minutes of your inane teenage banter, but if you really expect me to put up with
that
, you’re even more deluded than I
thought.’

Kyle drops his trowel into the bucket and grins. ‘Awright?’

Mrs Layton drops into the chair and winces. ‘And who’s this – Frankenstein’s monster?’

‘He’s my brother,’ I say.

Kyle sticks out his arms and does a zombie dance. ‘Awright?’

‘No, I am not all right,’ says Mrs Layton. ‘What’s he doing here, anyway? I’m not sure I want him in the house.’

And that’s when I lose it. I’ve put up with her stupid moaning for three whole days, but if she really thinks she can get away with
that
, she’s even sicker than I
thought. ‘God, you’re an ungrateful cow. You should actually be thanking him.’

‘What, for trashing my kitchen you mean?’

Emily is painting the mess a kind of yellowy brown. ‘He’s helping me with my science project, Mum. Kyle mixed some plaster to make the crater with, didn’t you, Kyle?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I see,’ says Mrs Layton. ‘And what is it exactly?’

‘It’s a volcano, of course,’ says Emily. ‘Named after Vulcan, the Roman god of fire.’

‘I thought it was that geezer with the big ears off the
Star Trek
movies,’ says Kyle.

Mrs Layton pulls herself up on her crutches so she can get a better look. ‘Yes, yes, I can see it now.’ She turns to Kyle. ‘Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have . .
.’

Kyle shrugs and slops another bit of plaster onto the side of the volcano.

‘It’s not finished yet,’ I say. ‘We’re going to build a little village at the bottom, yeah? And when it’s dry we’re going to get some vinegar and baking
powder to make it erupt properly. Don’t worry, we’ll clean up and everything.’

Mrs Layton mops up a pool of poster paint with a tea towel. ‘Then we’d better get a move on because
The Tingle Factor
’s on in twenty minutes. Now, if Kyle here is
joining us, perhaps he’d be good enough to leave his boots by the back door.’

The first part of
The Tingle Factor
(Road to Basic Training) is like watching a horror movie starring yourself as the main victim. When they break the news that
it’s Matthew they want to go through to Basic Training and not me, there’s this massive close-up of my ugly face, which gets bigger and bigger until it fills every centimetre of the
Laytons’ flat-screen telly and the zit on my nose looks like an erupting volcano. And yep, there they go – tears the size of tennis balls roll down my cheeks in slow motion when Justin
moves in for the kill: ‘You’ve got about as much chance of winning
The Tingle Factor
as my dead grandmother.’

‘That man’s a monster,’ says Mrs Layton. ‘How dare he talk to you like that?’

‘I said I should have thumped him,’ says Kyle, grabbing another handful of organic crisps.

Next thing you know, the camera follows me down the corridor as far as the ladies’ toilets, where the voiceover man takes over: ‘They do say that singing in the bathroom can make you
sound better, but surely that’s taking things a bit far!’

Talk about out of order. They’ve actually managed to make the worst day of my life look a million times more rubbish than it actually was. Everyone goes quiet. Kyle stops munching, Emily
nibbles her fingernails, Mrs Layton bites her bottom lip and I look through the sliding doors at her coffin, kind of wishing I was lying in it.

But when Matthew tells the judges he only came to the audition because he wanted to support me, I start feeling better. And by the time he walks into Basic Training (looking quite cute in his
yellow hoodie) I’ve recovered enough to join in with the others and give him a cheer. That’s the way it always is with this show – after five minutes, you’re hooked.

And there’s one contestant who stands out from all the rest. She’s cool, she’s confident, she’s gorgeous enough to make a supermodel vomit and I ought to hate her. But
you know what? When Twilight tells the judges that all she ever wanted was to make her mum happy, you can’t help liking her.

‘I didn’t know Matthew was into The Beatles,’ says Mrs Layton, looking dead proud as her son starts singing. ‘I thought he was into all that miserable stuff.’

‘He loves them,’ I say. ‘“The White Album” is, like, his second favourite of all time.’

Mrs Layton cranes forward and squints at the screen. ‘Do you think he looks pale? I hope he’s eating all right.’

‘Don’t worry,’ I say. ‘He told me the food was really good.’

‘Hang on a minute,’ says Mrs Layton. ‘He never tells me anything. How come you seem to know so much?’

‘He called me a couple of times that’s all.
To find out how you were
.’

‘Right, yes,’ says Mrs Layton, making a real effort to smile. ‘He probably didn’t want to worry me.’

Some of them do little speeches for the camera. Yvette from The Holy Joannas thanks God for the gift of music, and Dubmaster Daffy gives a big up to the Milton Keynes Massive, but all the others
make a point of thanking their families for supporting them – all except Matthew, who mutters something about his guitar teacher.

‘I’m going to lie down for a bit,’ says Mrs Layton. ‘I think I’ve got a headache coming.’

‘Don’t go yet, Mum,’ says Emily. ‘We’re just about to find out who else makes it through. Aren’t you going to stay to cheer Matthew?’

‘I don’t think so,’ says Mrs Layton, speeding to the door on her turbo-charged crutches. ‘He’s made it perfectly clear that he can do without me.’

‘I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?’ I call, but she’s already strapping herself into the stairlift.

I’m kind of thinking I should go after her, when the first group of contestants starts lining up at the front of the stage ready to be judged.

‘Oh man, no
way
,’ says Kyle, smashing his fist down on the coffee table as Dubmaster Daffy gets the boot. ‘Call me when it’s over, yeah? I’m going to check
this place out.’

Kyle disappears through the sliding doors. I should probably keep an eye on him, but I really want to see the next bit. ‘Don’t break anything, OK?’

‘Look,’ says Emily, who was dead chuffed when Trevor and Ashley, the identical twins, somehow managed to squeeze into the Conservatoire. ‘Here comes Matthew!’

Even though I know what’s going to happen next, I can’t help jumping off the sofa and screaming ‘Yeeeeees!’ when he finds out he’s going through. It’s funny
because
he
doesn’t look that bothered. The others throw themselves onto the ground, do silly dances or burst into tears, but Matthew just glances anxiously at the side of the
stage.

‘
Matthew
’
s a celebrity, Matthew
’
s a celebrity
,’ sings Emily, wiggling her bum and looking happier than I’ve ever seen her.

She must really be happy, because after it’s all over and we’ve searched everywhere for Kyle, she laughs louder than anyone when he jumps out of her mum’s coffin and chases us
round the table like a zombie.

Kyle and me are hardly out of the front door when my phone starts ringing. Shezza – who else? I bet she can’t wait to tell me what a loser I am. Five times I send
her straight to voicemail, but the silly mare just won’t give up, so I turn my phone off instead. There are twenty-three missed calls by the time Mum’s finished drowning me in hot
chocolate and I hurry up to my room to turn it on again.

Shezza’s call is five seconds earlier than I expected. This time I’ll have to answer it. If she gets all her best shots in now, things might not be so bad at school.

‘All right, Shezza?’

‘What are you playing at?’

‘I’m not playing at anything.’

‘Then why aren’t you answering your phone?’

‘I’m answering it now, aren’t I?’

‘Don’t be a smart-arse, Bex, it doesn’t suit you.’

‘Sorry,’ I say, trying to sound dead cool, but failing miserably. ‘I must have turned it off by mistake. Not urgent, is it?’

You can almost hear Shezza sharpening her nails. ‘Yes it is, actually.’

‘So you saw the show, then?’

‘Too right I did.’

‘Well come on, Shezza. Don’t take all year about it. If you’re going to lair me off again why not just get it over with. It’s not like you can make me feel any
worse.’

‘Yeah, sorry about that, babe,’ says Shezza, sounding like she actually she means it. ‘If you want my opinion, you weren’t that bad.’

‘Hang on a minute. What are you —?’

‘Why didn’t you tell me Matt had got through to Basic Training?’

‘Well, I —’

‘Jesamène said his hair was amazing.’

‘Yeah, I know.’

‘He’s got that cute little smile as well.’

‘I suppose it’s —’

‘Did you know he could sing like that?’

‘Yeah, ’course.’

‘
Oh my God
,’ says Shezza. ‘You know what this means, don’t you?’

‘Not exactly, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.’

‘We could be on live TV,’ she whispers. ‘Do you think he could get us tickets for the final?’

It’s my turn to wind up Shezza for a change. ‘Yeah, ’course. I reckon he’d do anything I wanted.’

‘Why’s that then?’ says Shezza, suspiciously.

‘I thought you knew,’ I say, regretting the stupidest lie in the universe before it even leaves my big fat gob. ‘Matt’s my new boyfriend.’

Matthew

This morning sucked. I hate the song they’ve given me, I couldn’t pick up the choreography for the group version of ‘Who Let The Dogs Out’ and me,
Twilight and Bart Smedley had to spend the rest of the time with our slaphead tutor Mr Packham, doing maths worksheets and discussing a rubbish poem about some old sailor who killed an albatross.
Mr Packham
claims
he’s a writer, which is pretty unlikely considering how earth-shatteringly boring he is.

But none of that would matter if I could only get Twilight to notice me. Bex keeps saying if I want to make friends in here I should just be myself. But if a total character change is all that
it takes to get a smile out of Twilight, then bring it on.

Lunchtime could be my best bet. Nikki Hardbody and The Holy Joannas are involved in a heated discussion over the salad cart, and the others have pulled their tables together in the middle of the
restaurant and started playing to the cameras. Phil Carvery and the boys from Soul Survivorz do an acapella version of ‘I Gotta Feeling’ while Trevor and Ashley whizz around on a
serving trolley pretending to be waiters and Roxanne (the ex-glamour model who just wants to be taken seriously) makes origami water lilies with the napkins.