Brave New Girl

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

1. The Second Day of Spring

2. Good News

3. In the Paradise International Food and Wine Supermarket

4. Casting

5. The Kutest Kiddie

6. Lights! Camera! Action!

7. Once More, With Feeling

8. In the Stone Cave

9. Happy Family

10. Freaky Friday

11. A Long Ride Home

12. Arthur's Wings

13. Summer Term

I could see Sasha on the other side of the dinner hall where the Year Elevens sat. She was looking at Luke Beckford with love-puppy eyes. If she hadn't been my big sister I'd probably have pointed it out to Keith and we'd have laughed.

Instead I sighed, and took out my cheese-and-tomato roll. I hated seeing her like this. Love had reduced Sasha to a wibbling mess. Her mate Fay wasn't helping, and Luke Beckford, the guy she was swooning on, definitely didn't see it. I reckoned Luke Beckford probably thought lovesick was another word for normal as far as girls go. The way the Year Tens and Elevens stared at him, you'd have thought he'd be tripping over their tongues in the corridors.

If Sasha wasn't careful she'd end up with no GCSEs and just an NVQ in heartbreak. I sighed
again. Sasha had been hoping she'd be going to the Leavers' Prom with Luke. I knew this because we shared a bedroom and she hadn't stopped going on about it since the posters had gone up in January. It was March now. She had no chance, the way she was going. Couldn't she see she had to
do
something?

I sighed again. Keith didn't notice because he was telling me about the film he'd seen at last week's after-school film club at the local cinema.

“It was art, totally, Seren. A work of art.” He shook his head. “I thought that French film they had on the week before was really good. But this one....”

I said nothing because I had fallen asleep halfway through. I really am no good with films which involve loads of reading. Don't get me wrong, I love a good book, but when the amount of words coming up on the bottom of the screen doesn't match up with the amount of words coming out of people's mouths, it makes you think that whoever wrote the titles was leaving out all the best bits.

Keith went on. “It was called
The House of Flying Daggers
. You should have been there, Seren. It was fantastic. Stunning. Beautiful.” Keith sometimes talked the way he did the reviews for the school newsletter. “All those colours! When you see a film
like that, up on the big screen, in a proper cinema, there is nothing like it!”

“I couldn't make film club cos I had to go and pick up Denny. His school choir was having some major rehearsals. Anyway, that Flying Thingies, wasn't it one of those fighting films?” I did my best
ninja
slice with sound effect and almost hit Miss Tunks, the drama teacher, as she passed with her tray.

“Seren Campbell Ali!” she said loudly, and half the dining room turned to look.

I felt my face going hot and pink. “I'm sorry, Miss, I never meant…” I stood up to try and help, and tripped over the table leg and nearly fell over her.

People laughed. I went redder.

Miss Tunks was angrier now. “You are so… so gauche! Keith, can you not keep an eye on your friend, please, before she does some serious damage?”

“Sorry, Miss,” I mumbled. I swear that woman gave me the evil eye as she passed.

“She hates me,” I said when Miss Tunks had gone. “I know she does, after last year's play and then the Christmas show! I thought Drama was supposed to be fun, now it's just torture! And what the hell does gauche mean?”

Keith shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe clumsy or
something. And you have got to admit it, you do trip over stuff. Sometimes.”

“Keith! Do not remind me!” I said. I didn't want to think about last year. “I'm a different person now, OK? Completely.” I took a deep breath. “I am
so
not that girl!” I shivered, remembering.

Keith shook his head. “Miss Tunks
so
doesn't hate you.”

“She so does! She always puts me with Sanjay and he's rubbish. Anyway, can we forget that just happened?”

“Suits me.” Keith shrugged. He took a spring roll out of his lunchbox. “I was talking about those films, yeah? Well…” He coughed. “I was thinking, you know, I might want to make films like that.”

“What,
Crouching Keith, Hidden Teacher
?”

“No. Not exactly,” Keith said flatly.

“Well, I wouldn't like to be there when you tell your mum you won't be East London's top accountant because you're off to Hollywood.”

“I'd get my Uncle Ed to talk her round. And she'll soon change her mind when I'm walking down some red carpet or winning an Oscar.”

“I don't know. Your mum has wanted you to be an accountant forever.”

Keith took a piece of paper from his back pocket. “I was thinking, Seren. Miss Tunks gave me this.” He laid the paper out on the table. It said:
East End Film Festival. Young Eye Film Competition.
“If you win you get shown on the big screens at the Olympic stadiums, while people are sitting down or something.”

“Miss Tunks said you should enter? She must like you.”

“She's all right, really. I thought I could make a film for this competition, and
you
,” he pointed his spring roll at me, “could give me a hand. You in, Seren? It could be a laugh. And even if I get on the shortlist, which, OK, is a long shot, they show the films at your local cinema. My film, up on the big screen at the Rio!”

“With your name on and everything?” I said.

“With
our
names on it. It's not just my film.”

I must admit I liked the idea of that. “But haven't you got to win first?” I said.

“Yeah, I know that…” Keith was off talking about lighting and angles. I started watching Sasha again, but Keith nudged me back to attention. “This Saturday, we could do some recces, talk about stuff.”

“
Recces
?” I made a face.

“Recces. It means looking around. It's what film
people say. It means checking out locations.”

I sighed. “I suppose I won't have anything else to do.”

“It'll be a laugh. And you could look at the script. Once I've written it, that is. I mean, it doesn't need a whole long script, it's only five minutes long.”

“So you don't want me to write it for you?”

“No, but I'd like your help. It's only short. But, yeah, you're great with ideas – you know you are.”

I was blushing now.

“So. I'll come over to yours,” said Keith firmly. “I'll tell Mum I'm at Youth Orchestra.”

“Oh yeah? You'll miss Youth Orchestra? I bet you chicken out.”

Keith had Chinese Saturday School in the morning followed by Youth Orchestra all afternoon. Keith's mum was always telling Keith, and anyone else who'd listen, that he was going to Business School.

“She won't be happy,” I said. “And your mum…” I'd seen Keith's mum furious. She was a tiny woman who looked sweet and cuddly, but when she was angry….

“What she doesn't know won't hurt her, so this is on the down-low, OK? Whatever you do, don't mention it to your mum either. I know they talk.”

I thought that since my mum was halfway through the new Jenny Darling romance, there wasn't a chance that she'd notice much of anything.

On the other side of the hall, Luke Beckford smiled and tossed his long fringe out of his light-brown eyes. Actually, that was exactly the way Jenny Darling would have written it and there, in front of me, it was happening for real. From the look on her face I reckoned Sasha's heart had triple-selkoed (I had been watching that
Celebrities on Ice
thing) into her throat, and I knew I would have to do something.

“Were you listening, Seren?” Keith said, elbowing me. “About the film and that? Seren?”

“‘Course.” I smiled even though I could see that Luke Beckford was leaving the dinner hall with Keely Marchant, and Sasha looked as if she'd just discovered she had FAIL stamped across her forehead in foot-high letters.

“‘Course I'll help, Keith,” I said. “And you can do something for me….”