‘You know, Flick –’ Ella smiled – ‘if you want to bring Skylar along to my party next week, I wouldn’t mind.’
Gasps rippled through our audience.
‘That is,’ she continued, ‘if you manage to persuade your mum to let you come.’
‘I’ll see what I can do.’
Everyone around us burst into chatter and Ella looked extremely pleased with herself, no doubt dying inside at the idea of Skylar Chase attending HER party. Obviously, it was never going to happen but I couldn’t shoot her down straight away, not with the whole class watching.
Hey Grace
Hey Flick! Wassup?
Not to be weird but . . . are you following me home?
What?! Course not!
OK. It’s only . . . I can see you
What do you mean? I’m on my way home. Which is the opposite direction to the hotel
I can see you behind that lamp post
What lamp post?
The one you’re hiding behind
That must be someone else
I just saw you type that text
Must be someone else texting while we’re texting too. Weird coincidence!
I can literally see you. Right there behind that lamp post
Are you sure you’re not following me? No offence, but that’s kind of creepy
I told you that if I see Skylar Chase, I’ll call you immediately, OK? And when I’m not grounded any more, you can come to the hotel after school
THANK YOU!
No worries. You can leave the lamp post now and go home
I totally wasn’t following you That would be weird
Right
I had to come this way to check out . . . this lamp post
Sure. That makes sense
It’s a historical gem
Go home Grace
When I got home, I couldn’t help but get a teeny bit excited that Skylar Chase might be there. There were LOADS of photographers and reporters lurking around the entrance, getting in the way and ignoring the dirty looks from the doormen, who were attempting to welcome guests. I’m not supposed to talk to journalists, especially not about guests staying at the hotel, and thanks to Mum not letting me do any self-promotion they’re never interested in takingmypicture. But some of the reporters know who I am and they gave me a friendly nod as I went round the revolving doors into reception.
What if I actually did bump into her? I looked about for any sign that the biggest pop star on the planet was staying in the hotel but everything looked exactly as it always did: Matthew was speaking on the phone behind the reception desk, a porter tipped his hat at me as I walked past, and guests wandered by on their way to their bedroom or the tearoom. The only thing that was different was that the extravagant flower arrangements around the lobby had been changed from pink flowers to purple ones.
