LITMIR.BIZ

      For Mum, Dad, Robert and Charles

      First published in paperback in Great Britain 2015

      by Egmont UK Limited

      The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN

      Text copyright © 2015 Katy Birchall

      The moral rights of the author have been asserted

      First e-book edition 2015

      ISBN 978 1 4052 7817 1

      Ebook ISBN 978 1 7803 1700 7

       www.egmont.co.uk

      A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

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      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       Dedication and Copyright

1

2

3

4

5

6

       7

       8

       9

       10

       11

       12

       13

       14

       15

       16

       17

       18

       19

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       21

       22

       23

       24

       25

       Acknowledgements

       Q & A with The It Girl author, Katy Birchall

       Back series promotional page

       About the Author

      I set Josie Graham on fire.

      And, OK, yes it was bad but it was an accident and not entirely my fault. Everyone thinks I did it on purpose. They think Mrs Ginnwell is a hero.

      If you ask me, Mrs Ginnwell made the whole thing worse. A little bit of water would have sorted everything out just fine. It was only the ends of her hair and a fire extinguisher was a very dramatic plan of action. I mean, Josie was already having a pretty bad day considering I’d just set her on fire and everything, and the next thing she knew she was covered head to toe in that white foamy stuff that always looks like it might be fun to play in but probably isn’t. (I think Josie looked more in shock – and a little bit itchy – than like she was having fun.)

      I was kind of in shock myself. I’d never set fire to anyone before so the whole incident came as a bit of a surprise. The closest I’ve been to any kind of arson was when I was little and I put my dad’s wallet on the log fire to see what would happen. I mean, who leaves their wallet laying around in the same room as a toddler? Not my father any more that’s for sure. But I still think he looks at me a little bit suspiciously on cold nights.

      Oh, and there was that time I almost burnt down Dad’s study. But those two times are IT.

      And you know what? This is partly Josie Graham’s fault too. Because really, she should not have been (a) leaning on her hand so close to a Bunsen burner and (b) wearing so much hairspray to school.

      I’m just jealous because I don’t have the time, let alone the skills, for hairspray. Once Dad has eventually wrestled the duvet cover away from me, I have about ten minutes tops to get ready.

      My dad would never buy me hairspray anyway. He’s so old fashioned, especially when it comes to his fourteen-year-old daughter. I remember one time in a pharmacy I asked him if he would buy me eyeliner. He burst out laughing and made me go fetch some Lemsip. I think this is VERY hypocritical as some of the women my dad has dated have worn a LOT of dark eyeliner. How would he feel if, when he introduced them, I laughed in their face and gave them a mug of hot lemon paracetamol instead?

      Hmm . . . I might consider this for the really annoying ones that get brought home.

      A wobbling Mrs Ginnwell definitely wasn’t laughing as she marched me into Miss Duke’s office mumbling something incoherent about fire in the classroom and pyromaniac tendencies.

      ‘Sorry, Mrs Ginnwell, I didn’t quite understand that. What did you say?’ Miss Duke asked, rising from her desk with a look of concern.

      Miss Duke really suits her office. Which sounds strange when I say it out loud but it just goes with her overall vibe. She’s new to the school too. We were both new in September, although obviously she’s a bit more senior being headmistress and everything. I just came into Year 10. Everything considered, I think she has managed to set the better impression out of the two of us so far. This is not great considering she gives out detentions and makes people pick up rubbish from behind the bike shed.

      So even though she’s only been in that office for a term and I’m not entirely sure what it looked like before she arrived, it matches her. For example, it’s all very neat. Miss Duke is very formal and smartly dressed. She looks more like those businesswomen who are always on their hands-free mobiles in train stations barking things like, ‘That’s just damn well not good enough, Jeffrey,’ than a headmistress at a co-ed school.

      I like the way she can pull off a trouser suit though. I think if ever I was going to work in an office I would like to wear a trouser suit and look authoritative like Miss Duke does. And her dark hair is always

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