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The It Girl: Team Awkward. Katy Birchall
Читать онлайн.Название The It Girl: Team Awkward
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781780317014
Автор произведения Katy Birchall
Жанр Учебная литература
Издательство HarperCollins
‘Your dad’s amazing,’ Connor said, shaking his head.
‘Not when there’s a rock star in your house and he’s rummaging around in the attic for his old guitar. Then Helena told Tom the story about the time Marianne was little and she lifted her dress up in front of Madonna to show off her Disney pants, and I laughed so hard that I spilt my lemonade all over Tom’s shoes. To top it off, Dog nicked his wallet off the table and chewed his bank card.’ I bit my lip. ‘I don’t think any of us will be seeing Tom Kyzer any time soon.’
Connor laughed. ‘I missed chatting to you properly over the holidays, Spidey.’
He stopped and I tripped over my own feet before I realised that he’d stopped because we’d reached my front door. He’d MISSED ME.
‘I’ll see you at school tomorrow then?’ he asked.
‘Yeah. I’m glad I survived today,’ I chuckled nervously. ‘Plant pot incident and everything.’
‘Don’t worry about that,’ said Connor. ‘People will get distracted by something else soon. Plus, I think the plant pot video was an excellent publicity stunt.’
‘Connor, it wasn’t a . . . I mean, I didn’t do it on . . .’
‘Anna,’ he interrupted, winking at me. ‘It was an excellent publicity stunt . . . I think the whole thing is pretty genius of you. It was a brilliant way of cheering the nation, getting more followers on social media and guaranteeing more support for anything you do in the future. So if anyone else asks, I’ll say that it was an excellent publicity stunt.’
‘Ohhhh,’ I said, catching on at last. ‘Yes, well. Not everyone can be a PR genius, but I try.’
‘You do. Hey, we should have filmed the goose chase too. Your audience would have doubled with that one. Maybe we could pay the goose another visit?’
‘Never!’
He laughed. ‘Well, I’d better get going.’
‘Yeah,’ I replied, leaning back against my front door with my key in my hand and shuffling my feet.
There was a moment’s silence. We caught each other’s eye and Connor took a small step towards me. Considering he hadn’t been standing too far away in the first place, this meant that he was really close all of a sudden. Close enough for my face to grow really hot. Close enough for me to forget to breathe. He reached out and his hand brushed my face. I started closing my eyes. I could hardly believe that it was actually happening. I was about to have my FIRST. EVER. KISS. This was it.
Except that, suddenly, the door was no longer behind me. I stumbled and fell backwards, landing with a thump on my bum.
Five reasons why the whole world should get rid of doors:
1. They are kind of pointless. I mean, what do they really do? If you think about it, they have no real function.
2. They might keep things out, but isn’t that negative? Doors contribute to negative thinking. And we have enough negative thinking in the world already without doors.
3. Fingers can get caught in them. Doors are a danger to mankind.
4. People walk into them the whole time. Not only are doors a danger to mankind, but clearly we have not developed enough intelligence to handle their complex and cruel nature.
5. People are very irresponsible with them. Like when they just swing one open without checking to see if someone is leaning on the other side of it about to have their FIRST KISS.
‘Anna, are you OK?’ Connor’s face popped into view as he knelt over me. I blinked up at him.
‘Is there any chance that you didn’t see that happen?’
His face broke into a look of relief and he chuckled. ‘I didn’t see a thing, I swear.’ He reached out for my hand and gently pulled me up into a sitting position.
‘Anna,’ said my dad’s voice. ‘What’s going on? Oh, hello Connor.’
‘Hi, Mr Huntley,’ said Connor.
Oh, brilliant. My dad was getting in on the act.
‘Why are you on the floor?’ Dad asked. ‘Were you trying to salsa again? I told you the last time, it’s just not the dance step for you.’
There it was. Things could always get worse.
‘No, Dad, I was not trying to salsa.’ I clambered to my feet and peered into the hall. Standing behind my dad were several men and women, all dressed in expensive-looking black tailored trouser suits. The men had their hair slicked back, while the girls had their hair in high, ridiculously-neat ponytails and sported bright red lipstick.
‘Who are these strange people?’ I looked round at them all. ‘Er, no offence. I meant strange as in new. Not strange as in . . . strange. I’m sure you’re all lovely. Whoever you are. Hello.’
Next to me, Connor sniggered and I elbowed him in the ribs.
‘This is the wedding team.’ Dad didn’t sound too happy about it. ‘But what happened to you, Anna?’
‘Nothing! I fell through the door. What’s a wedding team?’
‘Anna! There you are, darling!’ Helena breezed into the hall from the sitting room, looking very smart in a black knee-length dress and peach blazer. ‘I thought I heard a commotion.’
‘She fell through the door,’ Dad informed her as she pulled me into a hug.
‘Nice to see you, Miss Montaine,’ said Connor politely.
‘Connor, I’ve told you, call me Helena,’ Helena gushed, embracing him dramatically. ‘How is your Art going? Anna says you’re the most talented artist she’s ever seen.’
WAY TO PLAY IT COOL, HELENA.
‘Um, did she?’ asked Connor, sounding uncomfortable. ‘Well, I’ve been going to some Art classes, so I think I’m getting better. I could show you some stuff next time I come over?’
‘That would be simply fantastic, I just love art,’ Helena declared, so enthusiastically it sounded as though she thought Connor was the next Picasso.
‘If you’re OK, Anna, then I should probably head off,’ Connor said, now looking like a rabbit caught in the headlights. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow?’
I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could say anything there was a loud crash from the sitting room, a shrill scream and an explosion of panicked voices shouting.
‘What the . . . ?’
Suddenly about fifteen owls came flying towards us down the hall, flapping wildly.
‘SHUT THE DOOR,’ yelped one of the wedding team, and another threw himself courageously at the front door, slamming it closed just in time. Connor and I ducked as the owls, shut off from their escape route, were forced into a mass U-turn back towards the sitting room.
Then the wedding team leapt into action. They rushed away and reappeared wearing long, brown-leather gloves. The owls, noticing them, calmed and flapped over to them obediently.
‘Gosh, how interesting,’ Dad said weakly, patting himself down as he got up from his crouching position by the telephone table.
‘What on EARTH is going on?’ I demanded, completely bewildered.
‘It’s an idea for the wedding,’ Dad said in a very, very strained voice.
‘Don’t