So, I hear you’re to blame
Oh no, what now?
For my sister’s little outburst today. She said it’s all down to you?
I wish I could take credit Olly, but I don’t think I can. She was amazing. I owe her big time
Well, I wanted to thank you
For what?
For giving her more confidence. Whatever you said to her at the weekend, it worked. My parents and I have been trying for years to get her to have a little more faith in herself. I hated her hanging out with Ella once I realised what she was really like
I can imagine. I meant to thank you by the way. For your message the other night before Sky’s party
You’re welcome. So . . . see you at lunch tomorrow?
You bet. It’s nice having people to sit with again. I was getting bored of all those books
Pleased to hear it.
Oh, and Flick?
Yeeeeees?
Try not to start any more rebellions, OK? As much fun as they are, it is only Monday x
I can’t make any promises x
There was a knock on my bedroom door.
‘Come in.’
I looked up from my homework to see Mum leaning on the doorway.
‘Working again?’ She nodded towards the books piled up on my desk.
She had every right to be surprised – it was a Saturday and exactly two days before the end of term, and a week before the Christmas Ball. We had hardly any homework to do and school lessons mostly involved watching Christmas films or working in groups on pointless projects. Considering I had never cared about homework before, I guess it seemed odd to Mum that I would care about it now, when I had a real excuse not to do any. And the lead-up to the Christmas Ball was always my favourite time of year – usually I’d make Ella or anyone who was available come to a hundred different shops with me, and I’d spend all day enjoying their envious looks as I twirled around in various gowns, musing on which shoes would go with each one.
Not this year, though. Ella was still not talking to me. But now, I actually didn’t care, because no one was really talking to her either. Things had been way more relaxing without her insisting on being the centre of attention all the time. She still had a few minions worshipping her every move, but since her public telling-off, Ella had been much more low-key, avoiding us like the plague. And, as Olly hilariously pointed out when I was over at his and Grace’s house for a movie night, she seemed to strut less when parading down the hallway.
‘So do you, though,’ he added, when I giggled at his observation.
‘Huh?’
‘You strut less than you used to.’
‘I never strutted!’
‘You did.’ He laughed. ‘You properly strutted.’
‘I did not!’
‘I’m with Olly on this one, you had a strut going on,’ Liam added, throwing up a kernel of popcorn and catching it in his mouth.
‘Grace, back me up!’
Grace hesitated. ‘I guess there was a teeny tiny strut . . .’
