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Authors: Tamsyn Murray

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“What's this?” I asked slowly.

“Money for a new dress, silly,” she said, sounding so cheerful that I wondered if she'd had a personality transplant overnight. “I hope it's enough. We can't really spare more.”

I thought of the money Dad had given me last night, nestled in the drawer of my dressing table and felt a bit sick. “I didn't think we could spare ANY.”

Mum adjusted the strap of Joshua's baby rocker and smoothed down the tuft of hair at the front of his head. “I know the last few months have been tough on you, Cassie, so I borrowed it from the holiday fund. We don't want you to wear the wrong thing, do we?”

I shook my head. “Mum—”

“No arguments,” she said firmly. “Go shopping with Molly and Shenice and get something nice. Just don't tell your dad.”

I don't know about you but I did not see this coming. Dad has given me money with instructions not to tell Mum. And now Mum has given me money with instructions not to tell Dad. Am I supposed to spend all of it, some of it or none of it? Is it some kind of test?

I bet Taylor Swift never has this problem.

Chapter Eleven

E-PETITION Number of signatures: 849

Nathan gave me the sweetest smile in registration today. I'm still not one hundred per cent convinced that I didn't dream the whole weekend but it does appear that Nathan asked me to the May Ball and that my parents inadvertently gave me forty pounds to buy something to wear, which kind of took the edge off the discovery that Rolo had peed on my rug this morning.

At break, Molly and Shenice were desperate to hear every last detail about how Nathan had popped the question.

“Did he write it on a note and tie it to a balloon? Or did he spell it out in those candy letters you can buy?” Molly asked, with a faraway look in her eyes, as though she was picturing the scene. “Ooh, did he get down on one knee?”

Shenice and I looked at each other, both wondering what planet she was actually on.

“Calm down, Molly,” Shenice said, shaking her head. “He asked her to the ball, not to get married.”

Molly looked embarrassed. “Yeah, sorry. It's just that if Liam ever asked me out, I like to think that's how he'd do it.”

I laughed. The truth is Liam is about as romantic as ringworm, which made it even more unlikely that he'd made a move on Anjel, now I came to think about it. Whoever was behind JOJ, they'd got that completely wrong. “Speaking of romance,” I said, turning to Shenice, “any sign that your mum is planning to tell you about her and SEÑOR AMOR?”

She shuddered and glanced around to make sure no one could overhear us. “No, but he did say BUENOS DIAS when he passed me in the corridor this morning.”

Molly eyed her sympathetically. “Ah. He's being all friendly so that it won't be such a shock when he marries your mum.” Her eyes drifted away again. “I wonder how he'll propose.”

“I can't believe this is happening!” Shenice blurted out, stamping her foot angrily and causing several people to stop what they were doing to stare at her. “I don't want a stepdad!”

And she especially didn't want one who worked at the school. “Have you – er – thought about asking your mum what's going on?” I asked. “There might be a reasonable explanation.”

She rounded on me. “Oh yeah, I'm sure there's a good reason why she's spending so much time with our Spanish teacher.”

Several more heads turned our way. “Ssshh!” I hissed. If Shenice wasn't careful, the whole school was going to know about her mum and Mr Ramirez and she'd HAVE to emigrate to Spain to get away from the teasing. “Take it easy, Shen.”

Molly joined in and between us, we managed to talk Shenice down from committing social suicide right there in the playground. I don't know how we'll do it next time – she's got the wild-eyed look of a girl totally on the edge.

The magazine meeting wasn't as much fun as usual at lunchtime. Mr Bearman asked me how my article was going and I couldn't quite look him in the eye when I said it was coming along. I am determined to get it right on my own, though.

Kelly had another MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE for me after the meeting. At first, I thought she knew I'd lied to Mr Bearman but it turns out she needs to know if it's true that Rachel Muamba got caught smoking by Mrs Pitt-Rivers. She said it's for an article about the dangers of smoking and anything I report back will be completely confidential. I don't know how she expects me to find out – Rachel isn't in my year and I hardly even know her. Her brother is a roadie for WOLF BRETHREN so I suppose I could ask Liam, but the thought of owing him ANOTHER favour makes my teeth hurt. And just like Hannah, I wasn't at all sure Rachel would want anyone to know the truth.

But I didn't say any of that. Instead, I just nodded. That was when she asked if I'd heard any rumours about Mr Ramirez. I swear I nearly swallowed my tongue.

“Mr who?” I repeated thickly, partly because I was trying not to choke and partly to buy my stunned brain some thinking time.

“Mr Ramirez, the Spanish teacher,” she said, watching me like Rolo watches next-door's cat. “I heard he's been getting up close and personal with someone's mum.”

I wish I could say I came up with something clever to throw her off the scent but my mind had turned to mush. “Oh?” I replied, looking as innocent as I could under the weight of my crushing secret. “Whose parent?”

Her eyes bored into me. “Someone in your year. Do you know anything about that?”

It occurred to me to wonder why she needed to know but I didn't trust myself to ask and Shenice would kill me if I gave the game away. I looked Kelly straight in the eye. “No,” I lied.

Kelly stared at me for a few more seconds, then smiled as though we were the best of friends again. “Well, keep your ears open, yeah?” she asked. “I can't use a journalist who doesn't bring me stories, now can I? And I'd hate to leave you off the guest list for my party.”

I walked away, shivering. I am beginning to wonder if there is a side to Kelly that no one else sees. Maybe she's not quite as nice as everyone thinks.

Chapter Twelve

E-PETITION Number of signatures: 988

School was kind of weird today. The playground was buzzing with whispered conversations but I didn't think anything of it until I noticed people stop talking to stare at me when we were walking past. By the time we'd reached registration, Molly and Shenice had noticed it too and it wasn't only my year group – it felt like kids I didn't even know were talking about me and at break, one boy shouted “Nice hair!” and practically peed his pants with laughter, which was strange because I only had it tied back in a ponytail. Maybe this is what it's like to be famous. I might ask Liam if this kind of thing happens to him.

I don't know whether it is the guilt of knowing that we can't afford the money Mum and Dad gave me to get a dress, or whether Windsor really is the TOWN THAT FASHION FORGOT, but I couldn't find a single thing to buy when I dragged Molly and Shen shopping after school.

Dejected, we trudged into the Shake Shack and ordered a TUTTI FRUTTI SUPREME to share.

“What am I going to do?” I wailed. “The ball is in three days. At this rate, I'll be going in my school uniform.”

Molly slurped on her straw. “You know, if you really can't find anything, I might have a dress you can borrow.”

I eyed her suspiciously. Molly was known to have an unquenchable obsession with all things pink and frilly. “Why aren't you wearing it?”

“I've already worn it, to my auntie's wedding,” she explained. “I was their bridesmaid at Easter, wasn't I?”

“Erm…” I began, trying to remember which auntie had got married. At least one of them has really bad taste in clothes and the last thing I wanted to wear to the ball was a dress with a skirt the size of the moon.

Shenice gave up trying to suck a chunk of frozen strawberry through her straw and picked up a spoon. “I've seen the pictures. Don't worry, it's not pink. Or frilly.”

“Nah, it's not really my style at all,” Molly said. “You might like it, though.”

There was no way I was committing to wearing something I hadn't seen, no matter how much Shenice bigged it up, so we finished our shake and headed to Molly's. We walked slowly, talking about the ball and ways to bring the wow to the dance floor, but I couldn't help noticing that Molly grew quieter and quieter, especially when WOLF BRETHREN were mentioned. Eventually, I stopped walking and grabbed her arm.

“Okay, Molly, what's up?”

“Nothing,” she mumbled, shaking off my hand and carrying on along the road. “I wish the band was how it used to be, that's all.”

I pursed my lips, thinking back to the rehearsal I'd heard thumping through the garage wall the night before. “They sound pretty good, or as good as CAT FLAPPED ever sounds. I'm hoping Anjel will do something about their lyrics.”

Scowling, she kicked at a stone lying on the floor. “Stupid Anjel and her rubbish playing.”

I saw Shenice widen her eyes. “That's not really fair—”

Molly rounded on her. “No, I'll tell you what's not fair. It's not fair that Max has quit the band. It's not fair that Anjel is ruining everything – you've seen JUICE ON JUDE'S. It says WOLF BRETHREN are having ARTISTIC DIFFERENCES and everyone knows that means girl trouble.” Her lower lip wobbled alarmingly. “And most of all, it's not fair that Liam doesn't remember who I am any more!”

If we weren't careful, she was going to launch a full-scale Molly strop.

“Of course he knows who you are,” I soothed. “How could he forget you after everything you've done for them? And if it helps, I don't think he's exactly over the moon with all the stuff that's been on JOJ.”

She sniffed and looked hopeful. “Really? Then there's nothing going on between them?”

The warning signs couldn't have been more obvious if they'd danced up and down the road shouting “Ooh, look at me!” – Molly's crush was reaching epidemic levels. I put on my most reassuring smile. “I'm pretty sure they're just band mates.”

I thought back to what Nathan had said to me at the weekend and frowned uneasily. “Maybe we should stop believing everything we see on JUICE ON JUDE'S, anyway.”

“Hmm,” Molly said, apparently unconvinced. “See what you can find out from him tonight.”

What else could I do? Exchanging a helpless look with Shenice, I nodded.

Molly folded her arms in satisfaction. “And drop my name into the conversation, in case he really has forgotten who I am.”

Oh yeah. She's got it bad.

O to the M to gobsmacking G, Molly's bridesmaid's dress is perfect. It is sky blue, with silver sequinned straps and a shimmery blue gauzy layer which reaches all the way down to my ankles. It must have been one of her younger aunties who got married because it is so gorgeous I can't even describe it properly. Mum's face went all gooey when I modelled it at home and Dad looked like he was going to burst with pride. Liam, on the other hand, told me I looked like the runner-up in a MISS UGLY beauty pageant. Have I mentioned how much I hate him?

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