Girl Online (37 page)

Elliot’s mouth drops open. “What? Leah Brown, as in the chart-topper Leah Brown?”

I nod.

“Leah Brown, as in singer of the bestselling ‘Do You Wanna Taste My Candy?’ Leah Brown?”

I nod again, my eyes filling with tears.

“But that’s insane!” Elliot stares at me and I notice that there isn’t a trace of pleasure on his face, only shock and horror, and once again I feel terrible for doubting him. “Oh, Pen. Oh my God. But how—how did he manage to keep that from you?”

So I tell him all about the little clues that were there all along but I just didn’t notice. The girl by the vintage store, the overheard snippet of conversation with Sadie Lee, the fact that Noah barely went anywhere with me in public.

Elliot can’t stop shaking his head. “But what about the things you said on your blog—about him being your soul mate?”

“I was wrong.” A sob wells up inside of me as I say it. “And now the whole world knows because someone leaked it to a celebrity website. And everyone knows about my blog.”

“But how? Had you told Noah about your blog?”

“No. I hadn’t told anyone—apart from you.”

Elliot stares at me. “Wait a minute.” He takes his phone from his pocket and starts scrolling through his messages. “You thought I did it!”

“Only because you were the only one who knew. Or at least I thought you were . . .”

“But who else could know?”

“Megan.”

Elliot’s eyebrows shoot up so high they almost reach his hairline. “What? How would she know? You didn’t tell her, did you?”

“No. But maybe she saw something when she stayed over that night or maybe . . .”

“What?”

“Maybe Ollie told her.”

Elliot frowns. “How would Ollie know?”

“He was round at mine on Tuesday—in my bedroom. He could have seen my blog on my laptop.”

Elliot’s eyes are now practically popping out of his head. “OK, from now on can you please just assume that my response to anything you say is prefixed with a ‘WTF’!”

I nod and laugh.

“WTF was the Walking Selfie doing in your bedroom?”

“He came around to see me. He brought me a Christmas present.”

“A Christmas present? What was it?”

“I don’t actually know. I never got around to opening it. Ollie was the one who told me that Noah was a musician. He saw a photo of him on my mirror and he recognized him.”

“What—but—oh my God.” Elliot grips hold of my arm.
“OK, I’m sorry but I think we need to be seated for this conversation. Seated in front of two chocolate milkshakes so that I don’t actually pass out from the shock.”

“Choccywoccydoodah?” we both say together. “Jinx!”

I link arms with Elliot—or attempt to link arms with the enormous Puffa jacket—and we walk out onto the pier. But despite the biting sea breeze, I feel a growing warmth inside of me. My worst fears from yesterday were all unfounded. I’m not alone at all. I’ve got my family and the twins and I’ve got my amazing best friend back.

Chapter Forty-Three

By the time we get to the café, I’m feeling even better. None of the nightmare scenarios I’d been afraid of happening yesterday have happened. We’ve walked right through town and not a single person has recognized me and there hasn’t been a single abusive comment. As long as I can avoid the Internet for the next year, I should be fine.

We order our milkshakes and find a table at the back. Normally I like to sit facing the door so that I can people-watch, but not today. Today, I instinctively sit with my back to the rest of the room, just in case.

“You know what, Penny, it’s Noah’s loss,” Elliot says, unzipping his Puffa jacket. “You’ll get over this eventually and move on, but if he’s the kind of guy who can be so deceitful then he’ll never be truly happy.”

I nod, wishing that I could believe him. “Thank you. I’m so glad I’ve got you. And you know what? No matter what happens in the future—even if I do one day, by some miracle, meet a genuine Prince Charming—no one could ever replace you. I’ll always need my best friend.”

I look at Elliot hopefully but he’s frowning.

“Well, well, well,” he says, pursing his lips the way he always does when he’s really annoyed.

At first I think he’s looking at me but then I see that he’s actually looking at something over my shoulder. I turn and see Megan and Ollie walking over to the counter, huddled in conversation. I feel a sudden burst of panic. What am I going to say to them? What am I going to do? But it turns out that I don’t need to do a thing because Elliot is already on his feet.

“Hey, Mega-Bitch?” he calls over to Megan.

Megan and Ollie turn and look over at us and in that instant I know for sure that they’re behind the Internet leak. As soon as they see me, they both look so guilty.

“Why don’t you come and join us?” Elliot says.

“Oh, no, it’s OK—we were just going,” Megan calls back, looking really flustered.

“That’s funny, because I could have sworn you’d just arrived.” Elliot starts walking over to them. I get to my feet and hurry after him.

“Hi, Penny,” Ollie mutters, not even able to make eye contact with me.

“Did you leak the story?” I ask, staring at Megan. She refuses to make eye contact with me too, staring at the floor. I take a step closer to her. “I said, did you leak that story about me?”

“About you
what
?” Megan hisses. “About you cheating with someone?”

“I didn’t cheat with anyone,” I hiss back. “I didn’t know who he was. I didn’t know he was with anyone.”

“Yeah right.” Megan looks at me scornfully. “If you didn’t want anyone knowing about it, why did you put it all over your stupid blog?”

“That blog is anonymous. Well, it was until you found out.” I turn to Ollie. “Did you see it on my laptop when you were in my room?”

Ollie doesn’t say anything, but his face flushes bright red.

I stare at him in disbelief. “You were snooping on my laptop?”

“It was right there,” Ollie says. “I just thought I’d have a read while you were in the bathroom.”

“I don’t think you’ve got any right to be judging anybody right now, Penny,” Megan says haughtily.

“Tell me,” Elliot says, turning to her, “do you go to night school to learn how to be such a bitch, or does it just come naturally?”

“I’ve got nothing to say to you,” she says snidely.

“That’s good, because I’ve got plenty to say to you and it’ll be so much better without any interruptions.” Elliot takes a step closer, so that his face is just inches from hers. “You have to be one of the most vacuous (look it up), inane (look it up), stupid (you should know that one) people I have ever met. And if it wasn’t for the fact that you have just really, really hurt my best friend, I wouldn’t even be wasting a single pascal (look it up) of breath on you.”

Megan turns to Ollie. “Are you going to let him talk to me like that?”

Ollie looks at her blankly.

Elliot laughs. “Oh, please. He’s probably too busy wondering whether this is a good time for a selfie.” He turns to
Ollie. “It’s not, by the way; it’s a very bad time. But anyway—what was I saying?” He turns back to Megan. “Ah yes, you are easily, without a shadow of a shadow of a doubt, one of the ugliest people I have ever met.”

Megan visibly recoils.

Elliot nods. “It’s true. You’re so bitter and fake it actually oozes out of your pores. Just like pus!”

Megan gasps.

At this point, the waitress comes out of the kitchen holding the tray with our milkshakes. “Oh,” she says, when she sees us standing by the counter.

“It’s OK. We can have them over here,” Elliot calls, “with our friends.”

I look at him and he gives me the tiniest wink. The waitress puts the tray on the counter, then disappears back into the kitchen.

“Ready?” Elliot says to me quietly as we turn to pick up the glasses.

“Ready,” I reply.

We both pick up our drinks and we turn and we throw them over Megan and Ollie. And if there was an Olympic event for synchronized milkshake throwing, we would have just won gold. Megan and Ollie stand there gasping in shock as sludgy brown milkshake drips down from their heads.

“OK,” Elliot says to Ollie. “Right now? This would be an excellent time for a selfie.” Then he turns to me. “I think we’d better go.”

I nod. “Yep.” But before I leave I lean in close to Megan. “You’re pathetic,” I say. “And I’m not the only person who thinks so.”

Then Elliot and I turn and we run.

We don’t stop running until we’re up by the station. I clutch my side and try to catch my breath.

“Oh my God, that was epic!” Elliot gasps. “Even my favorite revenge fantasies aren’t that good.”

“You have revenge fantasies?”

“Oh yes. But they were nothing compared to that.” Then suddenly his face clouds over.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’d totally forgotten that I’ve run away.” We both look over at a homeless man lying in a doorway next to the station. His face and clothes are black with grime.

“There’s no way you’re sleeping rough tonight,” I tell him. “You’re coming home with me. I’m sure Mum and Dad won’t mind you staying over. They were only saying yesterday how much they’ve missed you since New York.”

“Really?”

“Yes. And then maybe we can get Dad to talk to your parents. You know how good he is in a crisis. He’ll know what to do.”

• • •

Dad knows exactly what to do. As soon as we arrive home and tell him what’s happened, he tells Elliot that he’s welcome to stay for as long as he likes and then he goes around to have a word with his parents. It turns out that Elliot’s mum had been really distraught when she read his farewell note—apparently his farewell note was five pages long so it was more of a farewell
essay
really—so she said she was going to have a serious talk with his dad when he got home.

We spend the evening eating pizza and watching old episodes
of
Friends
and every so often turning to each other and whispering, “Oh my God, the milkshakes!” and dissolving into fits of giggles. It feels so good to have this kind of normality again. But all the time I’m aware of a nagging sadness deep inside me that no amount of pizza or laughter is able to heal.

At about eight o’clock, Elliot’s dad calls around, asking to have a chat with him. While they talk in the kitchen, I wait nervously in the living room. But there are no raised voices and at one point they even laugh. Elliot finally emerges with a nervous smile on his face.

“I’m going to go back home,” he whispers. “He’s said I can keep my laptop and phone.”

“But what about . . . ?” I give Elliot a pointed look.

“Apparently he’s going to go for ‘counseling”’—Elliot mimes some quotation marks—“to help him come to terms with ‘my sexuality.’ ”

“Wow. Oh well, at least he’s trying.”

Elliot laughs. “Yes, very trying!” He hugs me tight. “Love you, Pen.”

“Love you too.”

Once Elliot’s gone, I make a mug of camomile tea and take it up to my bedroom. What a day it’s been. I think back to how I’d been feeling yesterday and I breathe a massive sigh of relief. Tom was right; it felt great being able to face the world again and stand up to Megan and Ollie like that.

I look down at the floor at the unopened Christmas gift from Ollie. I wonder what he got me. I pick the present up and tear off the wrapping paper. Inside there’s a framed photo—of Ollie. It’s one of the ones I took of him down at the beach.
I can’t help laughing. What kind of person gives photos of themselves as a gift? I immediately think of Noah and the presents he gave me. Princess Autumn, the photography book, the song. All of them were about me, not him—the way presents should be. Once again I feel that crushing sense of pain and disbelief. He seemed so genuine, so caring.

I throw Ollie’s picture in the bin and go over to my CD player. It doesn’t make any sense, but that doesn’t matter; the fact is it happened and I have to deal with it. I eject the CD from the stereo and put it back in its case, along with the handwritten lyrics. I hold it over the bin. But for some reason, I can’t let go, so I take it over to my wardrobe instead and bury it under my mound of clothes.

As I’m shoving the CD to the very back of the wardrobe, my hand brushes against my laptop. Can I truly say that I’m facing the world if I’m still too scared to go online? I pull the laptop out and stare at it for a moment.
Come on, you can do this
, I tell myself, thinking of Ocean Strong.