Girl Online (16 page)

I text him again to ask where he is, but I get no reply. I call him too, but it's almost time for everyone to head back to the venue and do the soundcheck for tonight's show anyway, so the chances of Magical Mystery Day still happening are slim. It's not like Noah to be this rubbish with his phone, or be this rubbish in general.

I try not to think about it too much. Every time I think I'm calm, another question rises in my mind.
What if something happened to him? What if he's hurt? Or in trouble?
The questions threaten to grow bigger and bigger with every passing minute that I don't hear from him. I know they will
drive me crazy if I stay in this room alone, with nothing to distract me. I can't even text Elliot—I've bothered him enough already, and he and Alex are having a date day. They don't need me dragging them down with my whingey texts. I need to perk myself up.

I think about trying Noah's room but then convince myself that he's just asleep and won't want to be woken up. That's not such a bad thing. This is his first tour after all; he's allowed to have fun. He probably forgot to set an alarm. That's OK.

I grit my teeth and push back any negative thoughts that try to take hold, bursting them like soap bubbles before they can land on my brain. I grab my bag, my camera, and my laptop, and make the decision to head to the venue on my own, instead of sulking around my hotel room. At least some of the crew will be there and I can take some shots for my project of everyone setting up before Noah arrives. I try his phone one more time before heading out, but it goes straight to answerphone.

When I arrive at the venue, Dean greets me with a huge hug. He looks more alive now—food and coffee must have revived him. “PENNY! What brings you here so early? Lover boy is still asleep, I take it?”

“Yeah, I just figured I'd leave him to sleep while I get a few shots here and then I might sit and edit some of them. I'm doing photography for my A levels next year and my teacher is not going to be happy if I come back with nothing to show for it.”

“Hey, well, it's great you have a hobby. Remember, I'm here if you need anything. I think Larry should be bringing the boys over soon for a soundcheck.”

I nod and make my way to the dressing room. I take the memory card out of my camera and transfer the images that I have so far onto my laptop. There are some goofy ones of Noah and me that I took at the airport, some of Noah in front of the tour bus, lots of backstage shots, and then ones that I took from the crowd last night. I've managed to catch one of Leah that makes it look as though she's floating above the stage. She looks amazing. I open the image in Photoshop and start playing around with the exposure and colour filters.

I've always loved taking photographs, right from the moment my parents gave me my first camera—a disposable one that I used in the playground. I liked trying to catch people unawares, winding the dial on the back of the camera to get the film ready for the next picture. Editing in Photoshop is something that I've only just started learning how to do in the past year, and it's addictive. Hours can pass as I sit on the computer, making the tiniest adjustments to my pictures. Most people think Photoshop is about turning spotty faces into flawless ones, but it's so much more than that: I can add filters, adjust the colour palette, fix poor exposures, and make the photos more vibrant. Miss Mills has taught me that less is more when it comes to editing my images, but I still love to play around.

“Wow, that's a killer shot!”

I spin round quickly to catch Leah peering over at my laptop screen from the doorway—I must have left the dressing-room door open when I came in. I instantly feel as though I need to slam my laptop shut.

“Oh, no, don't close it. Honestly, it's really cool. Can I
come in and take a closer look?” She doesn't wait for an answer, but strides in and sits down next to me. “You like photography, right?”

“Yes, er . . . I mean, yeah, I love it. I saw the show last night and it was truly amazing. You looked great—and you and Hayden sounded incredible singing that a cappella song.” It feels weird to be giving Leah Brown a compliment. I'm not entirely sure she wants a compliment from me, but I also know that I am speaking the absolute truth. I feel a bit scared and more than a little intimidated by her, though. When she's on stage, she looks otherworldly—like a more perfect being from another planet, or a goddess blessed with unnatural beauty. She is still stunning in person, but with her sitting beside me I can hear her breathing and it reminds me that she's just like me. And I don't really know her at all.

“Oh, thanks, honey. That's nice of you. Hayden is a sweetheart. Have you met him?”

I shake my head.

“Well, The Sketch are kept on a pretty tight leash, you know? Their management are the absolute best in the business. You wouldn't catch them getting drunk on a work night.” Leah winks at me, but my stomach flips when I think of Noah and Dean's late-night antics. Leah continues, oblivious to my discomfort. “You know, you really have a talent with those photos. I've worked with lots of photographers who don't get shots like these. May I?” she asks.

I nod and she scrolls through some of the other photos until she gets to the goofy ones with Noah. “You guys are cute. I'm glad it's all working out, Penny. I really do mean that.” She places her hand on mine and I instantly feel
warmth from her. Is the Leah Brown I thought I knew crumbling away right in front of my eyes?

“Thank you,” I say. “I suppose we're quite cute! I still can't believe it's all worked out.”

“I guess I'm jealous!” She smiles at me. Not a small, sarcastic smirk; a proper heartwarming smile. “It's so hard to meet decent people in this business. And, trust me, it was not fun for me either, having to pretend to be with a guy who didn't actually like me.”

I suddenly realize how difficult it must have been for her, even though I've never thought of it that way. Noah retreated from the world, holing up with his grandmother in Brooklyn, completely abandoning Leah to handle all the speculation and gossip about their relationship on her own. She had to be professional, whereas Noah escaped by being the amateur who couldn't handle the pressure.

“I have no idea why you'd even need to pretend, though. Surely you have guys falling over themselves for you!”

She laughs. “It's not those types of guys who you want, to be honest! And I'll never pretend again. Did you know I dumped my manager after he made that arrangement? Being so fake just isn't worth it. I hope Noah knows how lucky he is. It's easy to get swept away in all the other stuff and forget what's real.”

“I think I'm the lucky one that he even wanted me here at all. But we support each other, you know?” I look at her hopefully.

“Yeah, I know. You're so darn cute—it's hard to be mad at either of you. Oh, damn, I've chipped this nail.” Leah jumps up from the sofa and calls out to her assistant. “CLAIRE,
I'VE CHIPPED A NAIL! CAN WE SEND THE TECHNICIAN OVER ASAP?” She turns back to me. “Penny, I've got to run. Let's catch up again before this tour is over, though. It's nice to have some female company. The male energy in this place is sometimes a little too much to cope with.”

I can't help but smile, as I've had the exact same thought. Maybe having Leah around won't be so bad after all. “Yeah, it was nice to chat with you.”

“No problem, doll.” She blows me a kiss and walks out of the room. As I listen to the click of her heels, I hear another voice chatting back to her. I'd know that voice anywhere: it's Noah.

He emerges from the doorway, looking sheepish.

“Pen, I am
so
sorry.” He sits down next to me and grabs my hand. “Blake practically forced me to go out to this bar he'd found and, before I knew it, it was four a.m. and we were walking back. Then I set an alarm for this morning and I must have turned it off in my sleep! I've ruined what should have been a perfect day out.”

It's at this point that Blake strolls in, hood up, shades on, smelling like a rotten mix between a brewery and an ashtray. “Honestly, Penny, it was the
best
night. I hooked up with this German chick who I met after the gig last night, and we hung out with her and her friends. Dean was dancing on tables; Noah was
so
drunk. I've never seen him like that before—we had to carry him home!” He laughs hysterically.

Noah gives me a pleading look as Blake carries on chatting away about how crazy their night was. I can't tell if Noah wants the ground to open up and swallow him . . . or Blake.

Noah squeezes my hand. “We'll have an amazing day at the next city, I promise. All the cake and culture you could ever ask for.” He's lowered his voice so that only I can hear, but he's out of luck—Blake has caught the last bit of the sentence.

“CAKE AND CULTURE? Are you joking, Noah? You're on tour, not a school field trip! How lame can you get?” Blake glares at Noah, then at me.

“Blake, please. Just be quiet for one minute.” Noah looks exasperated.

“Why? Your head pounding?” Blake bursts into laughter again, but then mercifully leaves the room. Now it's just Noah and me.

Noah rolls his eyes and turns back to me. “Penny, please. Say something? I'm sorry, I really am. This won't happen again. I got carried away.”

All I can think about while this is happening is what Leah said to me about how it's so easy to get swept up in everything. I can't stop him; I don't want to. I don't want to be that type of girlfriend. He's eighteen, he's living his dream and he's having fun. I have to be happy for him, or else I'll lose him forever.

“It's fine, don't be silly, Noah. I found lots to do and I had an awesome day regardless. I'm glad you had a fun night out.” I smile, placing a kiss on his lips and ruffling his hair. Then I wrinkle my nose. “Not going to lie, though, you absolutely stink!”

Noah grimaces. “I didn't have time to shower. Larry woke me up and I came straight here.” I throw him a towel. Noah grabs it and kisses me as he heads towards the shower, taking
off his T-shirt. My eyes open wide and I can't help but gawp at his strong back muscles, honed by many hours jumping up and down onstage and working out at the gym.

He smirks and throws his smelly T-shirt at me, and I grimace as it lands square on my face, ruining the good view.

Chapter Twenty-Three

It's late by the time we get back to the hotel after the gig, but Noah is still buzzing with adrenaline. We order burgers from room service and we've barely sat down on my bed when there's a knock at the door.

“That was quick,” I joke, as Noah opens the door to Dean.

“Hey, Noah. Hey, Penny—found you. I've got something for you. I think this is all of it,” he says, and, with a grunt, he hauls a huge black bag into the room.

I turn to Noah and frown. I don't understand why Dean has brought Noah a bag full of rubbish.

“Oh, wow! Thanks, man!” Noah grabs it and opens the top of the bag. It's full to the brim with notes and gifts that Noah's received from his fans. “This is crazy! Is this all from tonight?”

Dean nods. “Yeah, they've been leaving stuff all day! Thought you might want to get a look at it now before there's even more. I know how you like to stay on top of this stuff. I think I even saw some envelopes with your name on it, Penny.” Dean winks at me.

“For me? Really?” I stare at the black bag like it might be radioactive. Who on earth would write to me?

Noah lifts it and empties the contents out onto the bed. The notes and gifts cover almost the entire surface of the crisp white duvet. I pick out a piece of artwork that has caught my eye—it's a portrait of Noah, done in ballpoint pen. It's so incredibly detailed and lifelike, every feature, even down to the dimples in his cheeks, is perfectly rendered in dark blue ink.

“Wow, your fans are so talented!” I say, breathless—and a little overawed.