Destiny Date (16 page)

Hands shoot up like fireworks. I swallow, praying that I know the answers.

‘Yes, Karen Ball, Year Eight.’ Mr Harris points to a nervous-looking girl near the front. ‘What’s your question?’

Karen Ball, Year Eight, stands up. ‘Do you always do what the stars tell you?’

‘It’s a question of balance. The stars rule my heart,’ I tell her, ‘but common sense rules my head. Just last week Pluto promised I’d find love on a number six
bus.’ I clutch my stomach. ‘Have you been on a bus lately, dear? They’re breeding grounds for germs. I wouldn’t be caught dead on one. At least I’d be dead if I caught
one.’

The audience laughs obediently.

‘Next question?’

Savannah stands up. ‘Please, Mr Harris.’ She thrusts her hand as high as it’ll go.

I stare at Mr Harris beseechingly.
Don’t let Savannah ask me a question.
If I look in her eyes, she’ll know it’s me!

Mr Harris misinterprets my desperate eye-rolling.

‘Very well, Savannah,’ he smiles. ‘It looks like Miss Jupiter is keen to answer your question.’

Savannah smiles broadly. ‘I just wanted to say thank you, Miss Jupiter If it wasn’t for you, I’d never have got together with my boyfriend.’

‘I’m delighted to hear it.’ My gaze skips over her head and crashes into another familiar pair of blue eyes.

‘Miss Jupiter.’ Sam stands up. ‘What if the stars predict something bad’s going to happen? Something unavoidable like a plane crash? Or being turned down for a date? Do
you think it’s fair to warn people when there’s nothing they can do about it?’

His gaze is steady.

Mine’s not. It’s darting around the room as I feel a flush rise to my cheeks. ‘Honesty is the best policy,’ I blurt. ‘Lies only cause trouble. And even
I
can’t hide the truth forever.’ I turn to Mr Harris and whisper, ‘I think that’s enough, don’t you? I’m feeling rather fatigued.’

Keeping up the haughty tone is getting harder and harder. If I stay much longer, I’ll crack.

‘Of course.’ Mr Harris touches my arm. ‘Thank you, Miss Jupiter, for talking to us today.’ He nods to the audience. ‘Please give Miss Jupiter a round of
applause.’

The walls seem to shake with the thunderous clapping. I hurry towards the back of the stage and slip behind a curtain.

Cindy’s waiting to greet me. ‘You were brilliant, Miss Jupiter!’

I’m about to drop the act when I spot Will hovering behind her. ‘It’s been fabulous, darling,’ I rasp, staying in character. ‘Thank you for inviting me.’ I
push past her and try to skip Will, but he ducks in front of me. ‘Miss Jupiter.’

Will, ace reporter and dogged newshound, is bound to sniff out my secret! He’s probably guessed already and is waiting to unmask me.

‘W-what?’ I ask shakily.

Will shuffles from one foot to another. ‘I just wanted you to know that, thanks to your predictions, I’m dating the prettiest girl in the school.’

Urgh!
Will has turned into a sentimental dope.

I feel the heat from Cindy’s blush as I try not to barf. She’s staring dreamily at Will like she’s hypnotized.

‘Miss Jupiter.’ Will grabs my hand and starts shaking it. ‘I admire you
so much
.’

I gasp, my hand limp with shock. Will has just told Jessica Jupiter he admires her. I can hardly believe it. I stare through my veil. ‘Thank you,’ I croak. ‘You don’t
know what that means to me.’

Before he can ask, I shake my hand free of his and duck out of the assembly hall.

Before the staff release the gorillas, I hare back to webzine HQ and start stripping off my costume.

Can I get dressed and back to my class before anyone has a Lois Lane/Superman moment and realizes that Jessica and I are never in the room at the same time?

It’s a relief to fight my way out of the wig and peel Cindy’s tights from my head. My hair explodes with joy and my scalp sucks in air like a hoover. I’m so
dizzy, I have to sit down to wriggle out of the riding habit.

Once I’m dressed, I shove the costume back into my backpack and wrap the dressage hat in plastic bags. Then I relax.

I did it! I faked Jessica Jupiter in front of a thousand kids.

My performance may not have been Oscar-winning, but it worked. I perch on the edge of a desk and take a breath. There’s no sign Jessica was ever here. As I bend to pick up my stuffed
backpack, I notice a parcel on top of one of the PCs.

My inner journalist can’t resist peeking to see who it’s for. My inner kid is thrilled to see it’s for me.

I grab it and hold it. It’s floppy and soft. I check the postmark:
London
.

Who’s sent me a parcel?

Savouring delight, I run my fingers under the Sellotape and loosen one end. Liquid gold floods out, coating my hand. I recognize the colour and texture of silk. It’s the dress I wore on
the runway!

I pull it from the parcel, letting the brown paper flutter to the floor. It unfurls like a royal flag and dances in front of me. The dress is even more beautiful than I remember.

Pinned to the shoulder is a note.

I stare at the dress as it shimmers in a beam of sunshine.

It’s mine?

I can hardly believe it. I’ve never owned anything so beautiful in my life.

I have the perfect dress for the prom. A pang stabs my heart.
But no date to go with it.

There’s a soft knock on the door. I spin round just in time to see Sam slide in.

‘Cindy said I’d find you here.’ His eye catches the dress. ‘Nice,’ he comments approvingly. ‘It looks like the one from the show.’

‘It is.’ My cheeks are hot. I’ve been so mean to him. Why’s he being so kind?

‘Did you mean what you wrote in your article?’ he asks softly.

‘What I wrote?’ I stare at him stupidly.
That you’re handsome? That you have blue-blue eyes? That you make me weak at the knees? That I wish more than anything in the world
that you’d take me in your arms and dance with me like I’m your Cinderella?

‘About wanting to be single,’ he murmurs.

I look away. Why’s he asking? Why did I write such a dumb article?
Jeez, Gemma, why not just slice your heart out and shove it on a plate? It would be slightly less painful.

‘Well?’ he presses gently.

‘It was just the way I was feeling at the time. You said my hair was curly. Not that I mind having curly hair, and it’s OK for people to notice. Not that they wouldn’t
not
notice. Or at least they wouldn’t not
fail
to notice. Because it’s curly and not straight and blonde. Which is how I thought you liked your hair. Well, not
your
hair.
Cindy’s
hair. And that’s why I’ve been so mean to you . . .’

I’m rambling and incoherent. Worse, I
know
I’m rambling and incoherent, but I can’t stop myself. ‘I’m so sorry, Sam. I totally misunderstood. I thought you
and Cindy were and we weren’t . . .’ It doesn’t help that Sam’s moving slowly towards me which just makes me talk faster and dumber till I’m a speeding word-train
heading for a cliff. ‘. . . so, when you said you liked my hair, even though it’s the best thing I’ve ever heard and I was really happy, I
shouldn’t
have been and
that’s why . . .’

Sam stops me. Very, very gently, he leans in and kisses me on the lips.

I die.

Well, I don’t die because that would be a really uncool way to react. But I’m so stunned, the world stops. I know people are moving through the corridors and teachers are trying to
keep the school day going even though it’s the end of term and everyone’s just killing time before the prom. But
my
world stops and there’s just Sam and me in it.
Standing close. In a store cupboard on the second floor of Green Park High.

I want him to kiss me again, but he doesn’t. Instead, he drowns me in his blue-blue eyes and starts talking. ‘So you might want to come to the prom with me tonight?’

While I stare at him, mouthing air like a goldfish, he takes the Reuben dress from my hand and drapes it over the PC. ‘I bet that looks prettier in real life than it did in the
photos.’

I find my voice. ‘This time I won’t fall off any stages.’

‘Don’t worry, I won’t let you near any.’ He looks at me earnestly. ‘Unless invading stages is something you can’t live without.’

‘I can live without it.’ I suddenly realize he’s slipped his arms round my waist. I can feel his hands, strong and warm on my spine.

‘Gemma,’ he murmurs. ‘You’re the hardest girl to ask on a date ever.’

‘Am I?’ I give him innocent doe eyes.

‘You have a habit of shooting me down every time I come close.’

‘Not this time,’ I murmur.

‘True,’ he concedes. ‘But how about I ask you out on the next ten dates
now
, while I’m on a roll?’

‘OK,’ I smile.

‘Mind you . . .’ He hesitates.

‘What?’

‘It’ll be strange dating two girls at once.’

‘What?’ My heart drops like a stone. ‘But I thought you weren’t dating Cindy—’

He cuts me off. ‘Not Cindy, you dope.’ He presses his finger gently against the tip of my nose. ‘
Jessica
.’

‘Jessica?’ I can’t feel his finger. My nose has gone numb.

He grins a wide, mischievous grin. ‘Yes, Miss Jupiter,
Jessica
.’ With a tug, he pulls off Jessica’s false nose.

I forgot I was wearing it!

I cover my face with my hands. I had my first kiss with Sam wearing a rubber nose. ‘I am such an idiot.’

‘No, you’re not.’ He kisses me again, very gently, then leans back looking thoughtful. ‘I think I preferred it with the extra nose.’

‘Hey!’ I shove him playfully, but he just holds me tighter. It feels good.

He grins. ‘I can’t believe you stood in front of the whole school and pretended to be Jessica Jupiter.’

I lift my chin. ‘Nor can I.’

‘You really had me fooled.’

‘I’ve been pretending to be Jessica all year,’ I tell him. ‘I’m used to the role.’

‘So all those horoscopes were you?’

‘Yep.’ I toss back my hair.

He looks impressed. ‘You’re a girl of many talents.’

‘And I’ve only just started.’ I duck out of his embrace and head for the door.

‘Don’t forget your nose.’ He tucks it into my blazer pocket.

I open the door, holding it for him.

‘If you’re Jessica,’ Sam says as he passes, ‘can you write a horoscope about my band getting a record contract?’

‘I’ll see what I can do.’ I linger in the doorway and glance back at the musty old room. I’d been so nervous at my first webzine meeting. Everyone was a Year Ten except
me. I thought I was in the wrong room. Now it feels like a second home, crammed with memories. I can almost feel Will and Cindy sparking off each other. I see Barbara sitting quietly, sensible and
patient, while they bicker. I picture Jeff fidgeting in his seat, desperate to get back to football practice while Phil and David frown with earnest concentration. How many times had I avoided
Sam’s gaze, frightened of blushing and giving myself away? And now he’s taking me to the prom.

Being Jessica was far more fun than I ever imagined. I’ve been able to help my friends to find love. And I did get some serious journalistic experience after all. And, somewhere along the
way, I managed to snag the boy of my dreams.

Smiling, I pull the door shut after me and join Sam in the corridor.

‘Ready?’ He slips his arm round my waist.

‘Ready,’ I tell him.