‘I will be sure to pass on the message.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘Now, can you put the ladder back?’
‘Yeah, sure, I just can’t believe . . . Hang on.’ Jess held up her hand and sniffed the air. ‘What is that?’
‘What?’
‘I think I can smell –’
‘Hey, girls!’ Dad called up the stairs. ‘Brownies fresh out the oven! Any takers?’
Without a moment’s hesitation, Jess let go of the ladder and darted down the stairs. ‘Yes, please! I’m starving!’
‘Jess? JESS?’ I called desperately, listening out for her footsteps coming back up the stairs. ‘JESS! I need the ladder! I’m still up here! Is anyone listening?’
I switched on my head torch and a moth fluttered by.
I hate my life.
It turns out that, when it comes to packing, asking your two best friends to come over and help you is very unproductive.
Especially when the two best friends in question are Jess and Danny.
‘What is THIS?’ Jess held up one of my T-shirts. ‘You can’t bring this.’ She threw it away from her dismissively.
My yellow Labrador, Dog, equally as unhelpful with packing, immediately galloped excitedly across the room to fetch it.
‘Hey, Anna,’ Danny said before I had the chance to chastise Jess for causing more mess, ‘one of your dad’s jumpers got mixed up with your stuff.’
‘That’s not one of Dad’s,’ I huffed, snatching the jumper from him and holding it to my chest. ‘It’s mine.’
‘Oh right.’ He paused. ‘It’s nice. Very . . . trendy?’
Jess sniggered. ‘This is nice. You can bring this.’ She plonked a summer dress into my open suitcase lying on the floor.
‘You guys are worse than Marianne,’ I sighed, slumping down on to my bed and encouraging Dog to hop up and join me. ‘You’re all a nightmare.’
‘Yes, it must be so hard when your dad is marrying a super-famous actress and your future stepsister just happens to be Marianne Montaine, the most famous It Girl in Britain, who is able to give you fashion advice,’ Jess said, rolling her eyes. ‘What a tough life you lead.’
I narrowed my eyes at her. ‘I don’t remember you getting trapped in an attic for hours.’
‘It was about ten minutes,’ she argued. ‘And that was your own fault for being so uncooperative.’
‘It’s lucky you arrived when you did, Danny. A few more minutes and I might have passed out from inhaling too much dust.’
He laughed and came to sit next to me on the bed, leaving Jess flinging around clothes from the pile spilling out of my wardrobe, and allowing me to rest my head on his shoulder. ‘Is that the one about Helena?’ he asked, pointing at the glossy magazine sitting on my bedside table.
‘Yeah.’
I passed it to him so he could admire the picture of my future stepmother wearing a sparkling green sequin dress, her hands on her hips, the wind machine blowing her glossy hair out and an easy-going smile framing her pearly white teeth. ‘It’s weird to think that she’s on the front cover of magazines,’ Danny said, ‘a famous movie star with a legion of fans . . . and then at the same time she’s just Helena, the lady your dad is getting married to. Big year for you.’
Um, just slightly. A big year for most people would be, I don’t know, passing all your exams with flying colours, for example, winning an academic school prize, maybe, or riding an elephant on holiday, perhaps.
So far this year, this is what has happened to me:
1. I set someone on fire.
2. My dad went to interview a famous actress, fell in love with her and then got engaged to her. Without my permission, I might add.
3. I started getting photographed for websites and newspapers all the time.
4. They said I was an It Girl, because my soon-to-be stepsister was an It Girl and we became really good friends, even though she gets compared to Audrey Hepburn in the press and I get compared to ghostly moles and guinea pigs by my friends.
5. I got stuck in a waterfall. Upside down.
6. I got stuck in a plant pot. Bottom first.
7. I got a boyfriend. Which is hard to believe when considering the above.
8. I went on a date with my FIRST EVER BOYFRIEND! Then I destroyed the venue.
‘You’re missing something,’ Jess said when I mentioned all this in order to demonstrate Danny’s amazing power of understatement.
‘I know –’ Danny clicked his fingers – ‘singing terribly in front of the whole school and no one clapping and it was really awkward.’
‘No, that’s not it,’ Jess said thoughtfully.
‘Hitting Connor when he tried to kiss her?’
‘That’s the one!’
As I buried my face in a cushion, Danny put the magazine down and picked up the Italy guidebook my dad had given me, flicking to the Rome chapter.
‘What exactly is there to do in Rome?’ Jess asked, making a disgusted face at one of my skirts and throwing it back into my wardrobe. I held on to Dog’s collar so he couldn’t make a running leap after it. ‘It’s basically all about the food, right? Spaghetti Bolognese and ice cream and stuff.’
Danny threw an irritated look at Jess. ‘Rome is one of the most beautiful cities in the world,’ he muttered, scratching behind Dog’s ears. Dog looked up at him adoringly, his tongue lolling out in appreciation. ‘It is full of history and culture as well as spaghetti Bolognese.’
‘Whatever. I just hope a gorgeous Italian guy asks me out. Maybe we can go on a double date, Anna,’ she said, winking at me.
‘I can’t. Connor isn’t going to Rome, remember?’
‘Oh yeah.’ Jess smiled mischievously. ‘I forgot. He can’t have fun because he’s an artist.’ She threw two pairs of flip-flops into my suitcase. ‘When I meet my dream Italian boy, I’ll just have to go on a double date with Stephanie and Danny, then.’
Danny immediately went bright red at the mention of his new girlfriend, Stephanie, the girl who I mistakenly thought Connor fancied last term because she is really cool and artistic and has one of those blunt fringes that I sometimes find myself staring at because it is just so neat.
‘I’m not going on a double date,’ Danny stated firmly, returning his focus to the guidebook. ‘I wonder if we’ll have time to visit all these recommendations.’
‘Why wouldn’t you go on a double date? Don’t you loooooooove Stephanie?’ Jess pouted and made kissing sounds.
‘Shut up.’ Danny blushed, throwing one of my pillows at her and making her laugh.
She stood up and rushed over, poking Danny’s cheeks and saying, ‘Are you embarrassed, Danny-wanny-woo-woo?’
‘Gerroff !’ he yelled as she continued to squidge his cheeks. Dog got excited at the commotion and felt left out so he headbutted me.
‘OW, DOG!’ I cried, rubbing