All That Glitters (45 page)

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Authors: Holly Smale

BOOK: All That Glitters
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Well, obviously
now
I think it is.

But I was far too distracted by everything else over the last fortnight to make the connection.

Actually, now I’m thinking of it, I should probably have guessed anyway. They have the same dark skin, the same icy expressions: the same subtly terrifying demeanour. And I
thought
it was weird that after only six weeks India was bossing Ananya around and calling her
Banana
.

“So you’re not disappointed with
me
?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” India says sharply, taking another sandwich. “I knew you weren’t still with Nick straight away: nobody stares at a desk for twenty-five seconds in silence if they’re still in a happy relationship. I’ve hated Alexa from the beginning, and I liked you as soon as I saw you chatting to Steve and helping him pick up tissue. I knew what side I wanted to be on.”

My brain makes a little clicking sound.

OK, that’s enough now.
India, stalking coldly to my side in the rain. Icily standing up for me in the common room. Forcing Ananya and Liv to follow her.

But all the long, cold stares of disdain …

“I know,” she sighs, rolling her eyes. “I have resting mean face. It’s a problem.” She grimaces. “Believe it or not I’m actually quite nice.”

I totally and utterly believe her.

Despite the similarities, I’ve just noticed the key difference between India and her cousin. When Ananya smiles, it doesn’t reach her eyes: with India, it’s the opposite way round.

“So I’m not a let-down at all?” I just need to check. “You haven’t been conned into thinking I’m cool by my fake social status and glamorous part-time job?”

“Harriet,” she sighs, standing up, “I recognise the constellations of the southern hemisphere off by heart and can classify the properties of crystal. I’m not sure
cool
is on my radar.” She glares towards the door. “Sadly, I’m going to have to tell Grandad I can’t get Ananya away from the bad crowd. She
is
the bad crowd.”

Slowly, warmth starts to spread through me: as if I’m sitting in sunshine, coated in rainbows, curled up in the middle of a hot-water bottle.

I did it.

After everything, I made a real friend. A proper one. One who likes me for the right reasons: because I throw terrible star parties and pick up loo roll and make buddies with caretakers called Steve. (I don’t know where he is, by the way. His house must be
considerably
further than twenty minutes away.)

And more importantly, I like
her
.

I always have.

“Do you want to go to my house?” I say enthusiastically, standing up. “I have a game of scrabble we can play, and there’s the rest of the star quiz to do and—”

“Yeah, go on then,” India says, grabbing the tray of sandwiches. “That sounds cool. Can we take the lights? It’ll help me focus.”

She unplugs Tabby’s night-light and starts heading smoothly towards the exit, hair like a chocolate bar wrapper.

Quickly, I grab my satchel and wipe my eyes on my wrist to make them as dry as possible.

Then I start following her.

“Oh I don’t
think
so,” an angry voice says. “Stop right there before I rip your flaming eyes right out of your sockets and use them as ping-pong balls.”

“Yeah,” another voice says, not quite as angrily. “Ping-pong balls. For
mice.

And standing in the doorway are Nat and Toby.

can only see the back of India’s head, but I’m pretty sure her face hasn’t altered.

I guarantee it’s set in exactly the same expression as always.

“That’s sweet,” she says flatly, eating another sandwich. “Who are you?”

“I’m your
worst nightmare
,” Nat hisses at her, folding her arms. “I’m the girl who’s going to tug your toenails off and turn them into earrings and then make you
wear
them. I’m the girl who’s going to pull out your eyelashes and eyebrows, hair by hair, until you’re totally bald.”


Yeah
,” Toby says, scowling and folding his arms too. “And then she’s going to turn them into wigs. Little tiny wigs. For
hamsters
.”

“Stop talking about rodents, Toby,” Nat sighs. “Seriously. Rodents have no part in this threatening process at all.”

“Again,” India says calmly. “Who are you?”

“Toby Pilgrim,” Toby says chirpily, his face clearing abruptly. He holds his hand out and I can see he’s wearing a T-shirt that says I AM A, followed by a picture of a rock next to a star. “It’s very nice to meet you properly, India. I believe you’re in my year at school, aren’t you? I’ve heard you’re an absolute whizz at physics.”

Nat rolls her eyes. “Oh my God, Toby, you’re useless.”

Then she turns back, all fierce again.

“So, you’re the famous
India
, are you? That makes sense. Well you can just put the sandwiches down, missy. You make Harriet cry again and I swear, I will conjure accessories out of body parts you didn’t even know you had.”

I’ve been watching this entire conversation with my hand still up to one eye, frozen in shock.

I blink and then look at it. What?

“Oh no,” I say quickly, stepping forward. “I’m not crying because of India. She came back to help me, actually. She’s my friend.”


Sure
she is,” Nat snarls, flicking her eyes between us. “I bet she’s just
lovely
. Friends of Ananya and Alexa are friends of
ours
, right?”

“Ah,” India says, nodding. “Right. Gotcha. No, I hate them too if that helps. Evil witches.”


Well
aren’t you just …” Nat stops. I can see her brain trying to fit this into her argument. “Oh. Well. OK, then,” she says slightly less fiercely. Then she rallies bravely for a last stand. “And you’ve not come back here just to steal snacks?”

“In fairness, they’re surprisingly good.” India looks at the tray of sandwiches. “Want one?”

I can see Nat evaluating the situation and assessing India. I’ve never seen anyone not baulk at Nat’s open, transcendent fury before: it’s like watching a tiger growl at a unicorn. “What are they?”

“Chicken and strawberry jam.”

That does it: the last ounce of fight evaporates out of my best friend. She nods and takes one.

“We invented these. They’re awesome, right? Lots of protein and carbohydrates. I’m Nat. I like your hair a lot. Did you have to bleach it first?”

“Purple is the most powerful visible wavelength of electromagnetic energy,” Toby says nodding.

Then he starts rushing around the room.

“Ooh, Harriet,
well done
,” he adds. “This is an
excellent
party. Although what happened to the sherbet flying saucers? Or the Magic Stars and Starmix? And there’s no Star Wars stuff here at all. Nat, I
told
you we should have helped her. She’s missed out
loads
of important space-based puns.”

I’m still staring at both of them.

What
? Just …
what
?

Did the last two weeks completely not happen? Have I been imagining all of it? First the Levaire advert magicked me out of it. Now Toby’s back to being Toby again and Nat appears to have forgotten we hate each other with the heat of a trillion suns.

Is this like one of those really bad television serials where I find out I’ve been in a coma the entire time?

Am I awake? Am I even
alive
?

“Umm, hello?” I say as Toby grabs a camera out of his bag and starts taking photos of the ceiling. “We’re not talking to each other, remember? What are you both doing here?”

“Harriet,” Nat says a lot more gently. “I think there’s something we need to tell you.”

suddenly feel a bit sick.

“Oh my God,” I say, sitting abruptly on a chair. “Toby and you aren’t … You’re not a
couple
, are you? Theo’s not just a
cover
, is he?”

It would make sense: all the weird behaviour. All the sneaking around and running away.

A gross but weirdly logical kind of sense.

“A couple of what?” Toby says, taking a photo of the tablecloth. “That’s not a very specific question, Harriet. You’ll never get into MI5 at this rate.”

Nat’s still staring at me with a blank face.

Then she abruptly looks like she’s going to be sick too.

“Oh my God, no.
Ugh
. What are you
thinking
? Thanks for that visual, Harriet. I’m going to have to clean my brain with a wire pad when I get home.” She pauses. “But the second bit wasn’t totally wrong.”

I blink at her. “Theo’s … not real?”

“He is real. But I’ve only seen him twice in the last two weeks. We’ve only just started dating, and I’m not
desperate
.”

There’s a silence.

“You are making no sense at all,” I tell her finally. “Then what have you been doing?”

“Toby and I have been avoiding you,” Nat says flatly. “Both of us. Because I told him to.”

My eyes widen slightly.
I’m not allowed to see you. I’ll have to check.
It was
Nat
who was forcing Toby not to see me? Not Jasper at all?

Oops. I probably owe somebody a pretty big apology.

“But …
why
?”

Nat thinks about it for a few seconds. “Harriet, do you remember what you said in the launderette?”

“Yes. I said I had made you a customised Monopoly set and you could use a sewing machine as your placer.”

The corner of her mouth twists slightly. “You said we were welded, Harriet. And then you said
I’ve got you and Toby anyway, so what else does a sensible girl really need
?”

I hate to say it, but for just a moment Nat temporarily transforms into me. Her voice gets slightly higher and posher, her eyes get very round and she does a little toss of her head, exactly the way I do.

I blink at her again.

Nope. Still no idea what she’s talking about. “So?”


So,
Harriet. We already had the plan, but that just confirmed for me that it was the right thing to do. What would you have done if Toby was hanging out with you at school from the beginning and I was hanging out with you afterwards?
Honestly?

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