Destiny Date (10 page)

‘Who cares?’ I reply lightly. I think of Sam.
Boys are sleazebags.

‘But you look so gorgeous,’ Savannah moans. ‘We might find you a date for the prom.’

Treacle snorts. ‘Chill out, Sav. Gemma can find her own date.’

I ignore them. ‘I don’t want a date for the prom. I’m happy being single.’

Savannah looks at me sincerely. ‘You are?
Really?
’

I give her a withering look.

She doesn’t wither. ‘We’ve only got your best interests at heart, Gem.’

The bus pulls up at our stop. I leap to my feet, relieved to escape. I’m here to have fun. This is our last girls’ night out of the term. The next time we go out together will be the
prom; Treacle and Savannah will have Jeff and Marcus in tow.

Inside Ice World, music is echoing in the high ceiling. The bright white ice is busy with skaters. They glide slowly round, like someone’s stirring them with a spoon.

We swap our shoes for skates and head onto the ice.

‘Gemma! Treacle!’ Sally’s cry bounces round the rink.

She comes flailing across the ice, Ryan at her heels. I fling out my arms to catch her as she slithers towards me. She hits me like a train and crushes me against the barrier.

‘Hello!’ Her cheeks are flushed. So are Ryan’s. He halts with surprising grace.

Savannah looks from Sally to Ryan. ‘Are you on a date?’

Ryan rolls his eyes. ‘
No
,’ he says as though only an idiot would assume something so way out there.

‘We’re
not
?’ Sally stares at him.

Ryan backtracks. ‘Well, not a
date
date. That’d be lame.’

‘
Lame?
’ Sally thumps him in the stomach. While he staggers backwards, skates clattering, she looks at us apologetically. ‘
Boys
, right?’

Treacle and Savannah nod knowingly.

Suddenly Savannah stiffens and points. ‘Oh my God!’

‘What?’ Treacle jerks round. I follow their gaze.

Chelsea is hanging out with Josh on the far side of the rink. I’ve never seen her looking so plain. She’s wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. She’s usually plastered in jewellery,
in a skirt even shorter than Savannah’s.

‘She’s not even wearing make-up,’ Savannah gasps. ‘I thought she was
born
wearing make-up.’

‘That’s nothing,’ Sally shrugs. ‘I watched her lesson. She’s, like, totally into it. And her coach is a monster. He kept yelling at her.’

Treacle blinks. ‘And she didn’t punch him?’

‘She didn’t even answer back,’ Sally tells us.

I stare across the rink as though I’m seeing Chelsea for the first time. She catches my eye and scowls.

I turn to Treacle as Chelsea heads towards us. ‘Watch out,’ I warn. ‘Here comes Flouncing on Ice.’

She turns as she reaches us, stopping with a professional brake that showers ice over our boots. ‘What are you lot doing here?’

Savannah squares up to her. ‘It’s a public space.’

Chelsea glares past her at me. She looks weird without make-up. I’d never noticed that she’s actually really pretty. Even when she’s hurling death stares. ‘And why are
you dressed like that?’

Treacle puts her arm round my shoulders. ‘Didn’t you hear? Gemma was the top model at Reuben’s fashion show this morning.’

‘Yeah, right,’ Chelsea sniffs.

Josh stumbles to a halt beside her. ‘What’s going on?’ He catches sight of me. ‘Wow, Gemma, you look great.’

You sound like Sam.
Rage boils up in me again. I scowl at him.

Chelsea’s more direct. She shoves him sideways. Caught off guard, he crashes onto the ice.

Ryan helps him up. ‘We need to stick together, bruv,’ he sympathizes. ‘Girls are vicious.’ He heaves Josh to his feet. ‘I just took a bullet for suggesting that
dating was lame.’

Josh gawps at him. ‘Are you nuts?’

Sally gives Ryan a ‘duh’ look. ‘Boys are so dumb.’

‘Why do you date us then?’ Josh retorts.

Savannah tips her head to one side. ‘
Because
you’re so dumb.’

‘It’s cute,’ Treacle adds. Josh and Ryan exchange looks.

‘Let’s get something to eat, Josh.’ Ryan jerks his head towards the vending machines. ‘We’re outnumbered. If this was World of Warcraft, I’d have retreated
already.’

The boys head away and Savannah swivels her attention to me. ‘Come on, Gemma. Tell Sally about the fashion show.’

I feel self-conscious with Chelsea eyeing me. I play for time. ‘Let me get a Coke first.’

I leave them on the ice and head after Josh and Ryan. As I pass a row of chairs, I spot a familiar figure. He’s picking abandoned cans and wrappers from the floor and shoving them into a
bin bag.

‘Will?’ I blink in surprise. ‘Is that you?’

Will snaps straight like I’ve poked a gun in his back. ‘What?’ He turns on me.

Chelsea’s not the only one who looks different tonight. I’ve never seen Will without his leather jacket. Instead, he’s wearing a dark blue sweatshirt and matching trousers. I
grin, feeling suddenly wicked. ‘Have you joined the Girl Guides?’

‘I’m working,
OK
?’ Will moves to a bin and unhooks the lid.

I follow him. ‘I didn’t know you had a job.’

‘I’m saving up for a motorbike.’ He hauls out the bin liner and starts knotting the top.

‘You’re too young to ride,’ I point out.

He looks at me. ‘And you’re too young to wear that much make-up.’

I scowl. ‘Everyone else thinks I look great.’

‘You do,’ he snorts. ‘If you want to look like a phony.’

My confidence shrivels. ‘Sam said I looked great,’ I blurt desperately.

‘Sam would.’ Will drops his gaze and goes back to knotting his bin bag.

‘What does
that
mean?’ Does he know Sam’s a fake and a flirt?

‘Work it out yourself.’ Will heads along the side of the rink. I fight the urge to run after him and beg him to tell me everything he knows about Sam. Am I just a big Year Ten
joke?

I feel my heart start to race. Why did I come out dressed like a freak?

‘Gemma.’ I hear Treacle’s voice and feel limp with relief.

‘Can we go home?’

‘What’s the matter?’ Treacle’s eyes cloud with concern.

‘It’s been a long day.’ It’s been the best and the worst day of my life. One minute I’m a supermodel; next I’m the girl that Year Tens joke about.

Treacle hooks her arm through mine. ‘Come on,’ she says softly. ‘Let’s fetch Savannah.’ She steers me back to the ice. Chelsea is leading Sally round in elegant
figures of eight.

‘Look at me!’ Sally calls. ‘I’m dancing!’

‘Concentrate!’ Chelsea orders as Sally wobbles on her skates.

Savannah leans against the barrier, checking her phone.

‘Gemma wants to go home.’ Treacle stops at the gate.

‘I hope you don’t mind,’ I apologize. ‘It’s been a big day.’

Savannah looks up from her phone. Her face is grim. ‘I
totally
understand.’ She sounds ultra-serious. ‘Don’t worry. It’ll blow over eventually.’

I freeze. ‘
What
will blow over?’

Savannah stiffens. ‘I thought you’d seen it. Isn’t that why you want to go home?’

‘Seen what?’ I demand.

Reluctantly, Savannah shows me her phone. She’s checking Facebook. There’s a picture in her newsfeed. I recognize the catwalk and the gold dress. It’s a picture of me.

Treacle leans over my shoulder. ‘Wow.’ She whistles through her teeth. ‘Cindy really captured the moment.’

The photo glaring from Savannah’s newsfeed shows me landing in Anna De Vine’s lap. My arms and legs are flung wide. I look like a skydiver.

‘Who posted this?’ I demand.

She hands me the phone. Cindy’s uploaded it to the webzine’s Facebook page. Everyone at school’s going to see it.

I swallow.
I don’t care.
I’ve lived it and survived. ‘Cindy can post what she likes.’ As I speak, I suddenly picture Cindy huddled beside Sam. They’re
snuggled round her laptop. She flicks back her hair and laughs as she posts the picture of me online. Sam slides his arm round her waist and grins.
He thinks I’m just a big joke.

Stomach churning, I march away.

‘Gemma!’ Treacle clumps after me, clumsy in her skates.

I hardly know I’m wearing them. Blood is roaring in my ears. I can’t believe I got Sam so wrong. I thought he was really nice. Now I know he’s as two-faced as the Ice Queen.
They’re perfect for each other. I’m
glad
they’re going out.

When Sam walks into Friday’s webzine meeting, I stare at my knees. He’s late, we’ve started and I’m sitting next to Will, which is as far as I could get
from the Ice Queen without dragging a chair out into the corridor.

OK. I take a
tiny
peek; one of those barely noticeable glances you use to check if the cute guy is really looking at you.

He’s not. And there’s no sign of his usual breezy smile.

‘Sorry I’m late,’ he grunts.

‘Don’t worry.’ Cindy balances her clipboard on her knee and moves her Louis Vuitton off the chair beside her. ‘I saved you a seat.’

We’re discussing the articles for the final edition of the webzine.

As Sam slots in beside Cindy, Jeff finishes inputting. ‘. . . I’ll put together some league tables, score averages and a few words about the best matches of the season.’

‘If you need help spreadsheeting the stats, let me know,’ David offers.

‘Thanks.’ Jeff leans back.

Cindy makes a tick on her clipboard. ‘Great.’

Sam leans towards her. ‘Have I missed anything?’

‘Not yet,’ she whispers back.

On her other side, Barbara shuffles papers. She’s been collecting readers’ questionnaires all morning and has a pile of profiles to collate for her big end-of-term piece:
How
Average Are You? The Green Park Student Revealed.

Cindy taps her clipboard with her pen. ‘I do hope you’ll all put a lot of effort into your last pieces. I know it’s the end of a long year, but I want to finish with an edition
that will really make a lasting impression on our readers.’

‘You could lead with your resignation.’ Will’s flicking a page of A4 distractedly. ‘That’ll make a headline worth reading.’

Cindy points her pen at his paper. ‘Is that the second part of your school funding piece?’

‘Yep.’ He’s got his smug look on.

Cindy de-smugs him. ‘Well, unless you’ve discovered we’re being funded by Scientologists, I’m guessing most of our readers will skim-read it. Like last week.’

Will sits up, jaw twitching. ‘This is important stuff,’ he growls.

‘It might be well-meaning, but it’s never going to get you your own hashtag, is it?’ Cindy snipes back.

‘Is that how we judge quality now?’ Will challenges.

Cindy ignores him. Instead, she drops a bomb on me.

‘Fortunately for the webzine, Gemma’s personal Project Runaway has given us a fabulous headline that should really grab our readers.’

Barbara giggles fondly. ‘Oh, Gem. You’re
so
funny. I don’t know how you had the nerve!’

Jeff raises his eyebrows. ‘Isn’t Gemma’s fashion disaster
old
news?’

‘The picture I posted on Facebook was just a taster,’ Cindy smiles. ‘I’m putting a link in the webzine that will take our readers straight to our website where they can
see
all
the pictures.’

Sam jerks his head round. ‘How many are there?’

Cindy slides out her phone and hands it to him. ‘Scroll through. I caught everything from the first wobble to her climbing out of Anna’s lap.’ She stares straight at me.
‘It was
so
funny.’

I grind my teeth silently.
I didn’t see you laughing at the time.

Cindy won’t be totally happy till she’s completely humiliated me.

Sam hands Cindy’s phone back without looking.

He must have seen them already.

Jeff intercepts. ‘Is that fair on Gemma?’ He scrolls through the pictures.

‘We must think of our readers.’ Cindy gazes at me beseechingly. ‘You wouldn’t deny the webzine such a fabulous story, would you, Gem?’

‘They
are
funny, Gemma,’ Jeff says apologetically. ‘If it’s any consolation, you look great, even upside down.’

‘Thanks.’ I smile lamely. There’s nothing I can do except play along. I sit and die quietly as Cindy’s phone is passed around. Will glances, but doesn’t linger.
David and Phil scan them objectively, one by one.

‘Too dark,’ Phil comments.

‘Too blurry,’ David observes.

‘Too skewed.’ Phil tips the phone in his hand.

Cindy snatches it from him. ‘Thank you, boys, for the photography lesson. I’m hoping our readers will appreciate them for humour, not style.’

Sam gazes at me steadily. ‘It sounds like you had a rough time at the show. Is that why you were in a bad mood when you got back?’

You mean, is that why I didn’t faint with gratitude because you said you liked my hair?

I stab him to death with my eyes. ‘No, Sam,’ I say icily. ‘I was in a
great
mood until you opened your mouth.’ Did he really think I was going to let him off the
hook for making a pass when he’s dating someone else? I ignore the crippling pain where my heart is being gnawed out. Suddenly my eyes feel as hot as my cheeks. Tears are welling. I force
them back by digging my nails into my palm.