Gritting her teeth, Ivy ignored the question. The bus started up with a lurch just as she reached the back, and she was half thrown into the empty seat. With no space to move, she found herself crunched between a set of happily talking bunny girls and two goths busy arguing about whether the Pall Bearers’ new album was better than the one before. For once, she was too distracted to even join in.
As the bus pulled away from Franklin Grove High, she turned to look back at the school through the window. Her gaze caught on an all-too-familiar figure.
Maya stood at the bus stop, staring right at the school bus as it passed her.
No, Ivy realised, her eyes narrowing. Maya wasn’t just staring at the bus. She was staring straight at Brendan, right in the front of the bus. Her head swivelled to follow him as the bus moved, and she lifted one hand in a half-hearted wave.
Suddenly, Ivy had a horrible certainty that she knew exactly who Brendan had been talking to. But how did he even know the new girl?
And why was he keeping it secret from her?
Chapter Three
‘Cut!’ Camilla yelled. ‘Let’s try one more . . .’
As everyone around them in the FoodMart turned to stare, Olivia stifled a groan. Sometimes it isn’t easy to be best friends with a budding movie director!
‘What went wrong this time?’ she asked.
Camilla frowned intently under her plum-coloured beret. Her blonde curls sprang out around her face, looking wilder than ever after forty-five minutes of tugging at them with every failed take. ‘You need to walk normally,’ she said.
Olivia blinked. ‘I thought I was.’
‘No.’ Camilla shook her head. ‘Your “normal” walk is too graceful.’
‘Ohhh-kay.’ Olivia let out a soft sigh as she hurried back to take her place at the end of the Newspapers & Magazines aisle.
It was a good thing she’d put up with Tom Taylor’s ‘perfectionism’ on set the week before because, otherwise, she’d never be able to survive working with her own best friend! Camilla had cornered her just after she’d gotten home from school, dragging her out to the FoodMart to work on . . . work on . . .
Frowning, Olivia came to a sudden stop, ignoring the irritated shoppers wheeling their carts around her. ‘What are we filming, anyway?’ she asked. ‘You never actually told me.’
‘Oh, it’s a music thing.’ Camilla bit her lip as she fiddled with her smartphone, adjusting the settings. ‘This goth/indie band are inviting young film-makers to submit footage for their new music video. The challenge is, they’re insisting it all be recorded on smartphones.’
Olivia stared at her in disbelief. ‘But you hate goth and indie music! You can’t even stand being in the same room as it!’
‘So?’ Camilla shrugged. ‘It’s going to be amazing publicity for anyone who wins. You’d never believe it from listening to their songs, but they’re huge.’
‘Really?’ Olivia felt a prickle of dread. ‘Wait a minute. We’re not talking about –’
‘The Pall Bearers!’ Camilla said cheerfully. ‘Have you heard of them?’
Olivia stifled a groan. ‘You could say that.’
Earlier that year, she’d been guilt-tripped into pretending to be Ivy at a Pall Bearers concert, so that she could get Brendan and Sophia into the show for free. If only I’d known that the band would invite me on stage. Olivia could laugh about her “singing debut” now but, at the time, she thought she knew how Ivy’s tummy felt when she accidentally took a bit of garlicky pizza.
‘Look,’ she said. ‘Have you really listened to their music?’ She waved a hand at the rows of newspapers and magazines on the racks beside them. ‘I can tell you, footage from a nice local supermarket really isn’t going to do it for a goth band that thinks shouting “I hate you” over and over’ – and over! – ‘again is clever.’
‘Oh, I’ve got all of that under control.’ Camilla’s eyes were flinty with determination. ‘I spent hours listening to their new song . . .’
And you didn’t go crazy? Olivia wondered. She would have needed earplugs and a tranquilliser to get through that torture!
‘. . . and here’s the thing: it’s about a relationship that’s ended badly, and it’s called “Yesterday’s News”. So, if their director has even half a brain, he’ll have to see the symbolism in all these newspapers and magazines!’
‘Uh . . . if you say so.’ Olivia sighed. She loved seeing her friend so fired up – but when Camilla was in full flow, there was nothing that could stop her, and no point in arguing. ‘Another take?’ she offered weakly, taking her place back at the end of the aisle.
‘Everyone stand back, please,’ Camilla called out. She flung out her left hand to hold back any other shoppers from stepping into the aisle. ‘Aaaaand . . . action!’
Olivia started forwards. Right. Walk normally! Half-smiling, she let her arms swing gently by her sides. Her chin was up, her eyes fixed somewhere in the middle distance, and her kitten heels clacked against the floor as –
‘Cut!’ Camilla yelled.
Are you kidding? Olivia swung to face Camilla – but for the first time that night, Camilla wasn’t looking at her.
‘We have an intruder,’ she said, pointing up the aisle.
Olivia turned back to look . . . just as a cute little boy raced past her, giggling. A harassed-looking woman scooped him up and carried him over her shoulder.