Paris Crush (17 page)

He glances at my slippers. ‘Would it help if I laid a trail of carrots?’

I grin. ‘Maybe.’

The awkwardness melts way. I step through the door and sit down on the iron steps beside him. A warm breeze stirs my hair.

Sam nods towards the horizon. Paris is sparkling in front of us, stretching out until it disappears into the dark world beyond. ‘It’s pretty inspiring.’

‘Yeah.’ I drag my gaze from the glittering city.

Sam’s staring at me with moonlit eyes. ‘How’s Ben?’

I blink with surprise. He remembers my brother’s name. ‘He’s OK.’
I hope.
‘I’ve bought him a chocolate Eiffel Tower.’

‘He’ll like that.’ Sam rests his elbows on his knees and stares ahead.

‘He’ll
love
it,’ I grin.

‘He’s lucky to have such a nice sister.’ Sam stares at his feet. Is he trying to tell me that’s how he thinks of me – as a
sister
? It’d explain why he
asks me out and then trails after Cindy like her number-one fan.

‘He’s easy to be nice to,’ I answer.

Sam suddenly frowns. ‘Don’t you ever worry that you’re
too
nice?’

I pull back. ‘Too nice?’ How can anyone be too nice?

Sam gazes out at the city. ‘You let people take advantage of you.’

‘What do you mean?’ I’m confused.

‘You let Will steal all the credit on that piece about Dave Wiggins.’ He looks down at his hands. ‘And you let Cindy take your place at the Spider Monkeys gig.’

He thinks I’m pathetic. My heart twists in my chest. ‘Don’t forget I’m just a Year Nine.’ I stare fiercely at the cityscape. Inexplicable tears are pricking the
back of my eyes. ‘Which means I’m kind of invisible.’

‘I don’t think you’re invisible,’ Sam says softly. ‘I just wish you’d stop acting like you were.’

His arm touches mine. My breath stops. Then he looks at me. I see past the starlight dancing in his midnight eyes and see a gentle warmth that makes me want to kiss him. He holds my gaze for a
second, then moves closer.

‘Help! Help!’ Suddenly a scream shrieks from below.

Sam’s on his feet in a second and clanging down the iron fire escape. I chase after him. Someone’s screaming on one of the floors below. Sam stops at a fire door. The
screaming’s howling beyond it. Sam starts hammering. ‘Let us in!’

The door swings open as I catch up and Cindy’s standing in the corridor, eyes wide. She stares at Sam, then at me and her face hardens. It’s like watching water freeze.

Sam pushes past her. ‘Is everyone OK?’

‘It was just Barbara having a nightmare.’ Cindy puts her hands on her hips and watches me slink in after Sam, like she’s watching a cat drag in a dead bird.

Footsteps hammer on the hotel stairs and Treacle and Savannah appear at the end of the corridor. ‘Gemma!’ Treacle rushes towards me as though I’ve been rescued from terrorists.
She flings her arms round me. ‘When I heard the screaming and saw your bed empty, I thought you’d been kidnapped or murdered or something.’ She’s squeezing me hard.

Cindy glares at me. ‘She
had
been kidnapped, by the look of it.’ Her gaze flicks accusingly towards Sam. ‘What exactly were you doing on the fire escape?’

Sam shrugs. ‘Just sitting.’

As he answers, Barbara staggers through the door of her room, hair dishevelled, eyes bright with fear. ‘I’m so sorry I frightened you.’

Feathery white mules start down the stairs towards us, like a pair of swans coming in to land. Above them Madame Papillon wavers unsteadily, her face white with cream and her hair strapped under
a net. She looks like she’s heading a zombie invasion. ‘What’s going on here?’ she squawks.

Cindy takes charge, barging past Savannah and facing Madame Papillon head on. ‘Barbara had a nightmare.’

‘I was in the lift again,’ Barbara pants. ‘We were going higher and higher and the doors had been nailed shut. Then the wire snapped and a huge frog’s leg drops from the
ceiling and just starts growing and growing—’ She stops, choked.

Cindy hurries to her friend’s side. ‘Poor Barbie,’ she coos. ‘It was just a dream.’ She slides me a look. ‘You imagined the whole thing.’

Barbara collapses into her arms and sobs quietly. Madame Papillon throws her hands in the air, exasperated, and flutters back upstairs.

Sam’s shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other, like a vicar at a rave. ‘I’ll leave you girls to it,’ he mumbles, backing towards the stairs. He reaches them, grabs
the banister and makes his getaway.

Savannah pushes through Treacle’s hug and squeezes me hard. ‘You scared us,’ she scolds. ‘Where did you go?’

I stare at the frayed carpet. ‘To the loo.’ I remember Sam’s arm touching mine and feel a blush rising.

Cindy crashes into my thoughts. ‘You girls should go back to bed.’ She’s talking like we’re six years old.

Treacle throws her arm round my shoulders and leads me towards the stairs, but Cindy hasn’t finished.

‘If you bump into Sam again, Gem, tell him I tried the bracelet on and it fits perfectly.’

‘Bracelet?’ Barbara stops sobbing and gulps in surprise.

‘Sam bought it for me on the Rue Rue Véron,’ Cindy says triumphantly. ‘As a surprise.’ She nudges Barbara back into their room and slams the door behind them.

I feel cold. And embarrassed. Where Sam touched me burns. I’d imagined the whole thing. He does just think of me as a sister. It’s Cindy he wants. Why else would he buy her
jewellery?

Like a burst balloon, I flap upstairs.

‘Are you OK?’ Treacle follows, Savannah on her heels.

‘Fine,’ I snap. ‘It’s Paris that’s the problem.’

‘What’s wrong with Paris?’ Savannah asks in surprise.

‘It makes you imagine things that aren’t real.’ I’m scribbling out my rose-coloured article for the webzine and rewriting the headline.
Paris: City of Broken Hearts
and Crushed Dreams.

Savannah and Treacle are already at the breakfast table as I reach the dining room. I’ve been trying my best to turn my candyfloss hair into soft curls. Cindy’s
comment about the bracelet is still sitting heavy in my chest, so I’m determined to look my best. There’s no way I’m giving her the satisfaction of thinking I actually care if
she’s dating Sam. We’re heading home after breakfast and the thought of seven hours on a coach watching her gloat is too much to bear.

Jeff’s the first to spot me and waves. Treacle turns and smiles. ‘You’re looking pretty,’ she says as I reach the table.

‘Thanks.’ I stand, rooted to the spot, trying really hard not to look at Sam. He’s sitting beside Cindy, pinned back in his chair by her full-on attention. Barbara’s
beside her and David is sitting at the other end of the table, about as far from Barbara as he can get.

My spirits sink lower, filling my boots. I’m going to be squelching around in misery any minute. Paris has been a disaster. Jessica Jupiter has failed to spark love in the romance capital
of the world. I glance at Mr Chapman and Miss Davis gazing at each other over their teacups. Savannah’s done a better job of matchmaking than me.

Just when I think I can’t feel any worse, I spot Rupert, weaving between tables towards me. I grab my chair before he can get his hands on it. The last thing I want is to end up sitting on
the floor.

‘Gemma.’ He fixes me with wide puppy eyes.

I feel sick. He’s going to ask to be my travel buddy on the coach again. I flick a switch in my brain that turns my heart to stone. There’s no way he’s going to hog my
attention all the way home. ‘Rupert, I’m sorry, but I really can’t—’

He doesn’t let me finish. He’s got his own speech planned.

‘I was wondering if you’d mind awfully . . .’ He starts haltingly, glancing back to where Barbara is sitting beside Cindy. ‘. . . If you’d mind me sitting with
Barbara on the coach?’

Do I mind?
I want to cheer. I give him a gracious smile. ‘Of course not.’

He looks relieved. ‘Thanks, Gem. You’re a good mate.’

He heads towards Barbara’s table and sits down next to her. She smiles and offers him half a slice of limp toast.

‘Gemma?’ Treacle’s looking at me anxiously. ‘Are you OK?’

I sit down. Savannah grabs my hand. ‘Are you upset that he wants to sit with Barbara instead of you?’

‘No.’ I’m actually pleased. Barbara can listen to all his lame jokes. I kind of feel sorry for her. But who will I sit next to? Will Marcus or Jeff want to share Savannah or
Treacle? Then an idea hits me. I beam at Savannah and Treacle. ‘Let’s grab the back seats on the coach so we can travel home together.’

Treacle punches the air. ‘Yay!’

It takes planning, but we manage to claim the back seats. We’re the first in the queue at the coach door once the rucksacks are stowed and, as soon as the door opens,
Savannah distracts Madame Papillon.

‘Oh, no! I’ve lost my passport!’

Madame Papillon’s busy ticking names on her clipboard. She looks up at Savannah in horror. ‘
Mon Dieu!
’

Mr Chapman pushes his way through the crowd. ‘Could you have packed it in your rucksack by mistake?’ Miss Davis is already heading for the hold.

While the teachers flap, Treacle slips up the coach steps. I’m hot on her heels. We ignore the yells of protest from the Year Tens queuing outside. With a whoop of triumph, I fling my bag
onto the back seat and plump down next to it. Treacle collapses beside me, panting, while Jeff and Marcus slide past the panicking teachers and duck along the aisle.

‘It’s OK! I’ve found it!’ Savannah is brandishing her passport outside the coach and, as Mr Chapman wipes his brow with relief, she slides onboard and joins us.
It’s a perfect manoeuvre, executed with precision. By the time the rest of the party start to board, we’re lined along the back seats, leaving LJ, Bethany and their Year Ten groupies to
bicker over the aisle seats, all the while casting indignant glances our way.

I spot Sam heading up the aisle. He sees me and grins. ‘Well done!’ he mouths. For the first time I don’t feel like an invisible Year Nine. I lift my chin and smile back at him
as he heads towards me. This is going to be the best journey ever.

Suddenly an arm reaches up from an aisle seat. I glimpse a gold bracelet flash above the headrests before a pale hand grabs Sam and yanks him down out of sight.

He’s been captured by Cindy. I wonder for a moment if he’ll try to escape, then reality kicks in. Why would he try and escape from the girl he’s just bought a gold bracelet
for?

Treacle nudges me. She’s waving a bag of toffees under my nose. ‘Want one?’

I shove my hand in and grab a sweet. I’m not going to let the Ice Queen spoil my fun. I’m on the back seat of the coach with my best friends in the world and we’re heading
home. ‘Who wants to play toffee paper dodgeball?’ I suggest.

The journey home feels fast. We’ve hardly finished swapping stories and sweets by the time the coach pulls into the schoolyard and rumbles to a halt. The door hisses open
and Madame Papillon gives the signal to disembark. But, as I shove empty wrappers into my backpack, I can’t shift the feeling of disappointment that’s been nagging at me since we left
Paris. Barbara is following
Rupert
off the coach while David stays in his seat, his nose buried in a comic book. It’s Jessica Jupiter’s first failure.

‘Come on, Gem.’ Treacle tugs me up from my seat. Outside the window, the yard is dotted with parents, straining to see through the coach windows. I spot Mum and wave at her.
Ben’s standing beside her. He grins at me through the glass. I hook my bag onto my shoulder, hoping the chocolate Eiffel Tower is still in one piece.

Mum hangs back, holding Ben at bay, while I queue with Treacle and Savannah beside the hold, waiting for our rucksacks. As soon as mine rolls past me, heaved out by the weary driver, I grab it
and hug Treacle and Savannah.

‘See you at school tomorrow,’ I promise.

‘Bye, Gem.’ Treacle squeezes me hard.

Savannah tugs my hair. ‘That was the best trip ever.’ Her dad is standing by the school gates, looking anxious, until Savannah gives him a wave and a wide smile. He breaks into a
relieved grin.

‘Bye, Gemma!’

I look up to see Rupert waving at me from the side of the coach.

‘Bye, Rupert!’

He’s leaning next to the wheel with Barbara, their rucksacks entwined at their feet. He pulls a scrap of paper from his pocket and starts scribbling something on it while Barbara leans
over him.

‘0753 . . .’ I hear her reeling off a number.

Her mobile number!

They’re swapping details. As he shoves the paper into his pocket, she kisses him quickly on the cheek and hurries away. Rupert watches her go, his cheeks flushed and his eyes smiling. My
heart soars. Jessica Jupiter didn’t fail after all! She may have aimed her love arrows at the wrong Gemini, but she still scored a hit.

‘Gemma, Gemma, Gemma!’ Ben escapes Mum and rushes towards me. I nearly lose my balance as he slams into my side and wraps his arms round me. ‘Was it fun? Did you visit
all
the chocolate shops? Did you use my map?’

I squeeze him hard, pleased to see him so happy and full of energy. Then I unzip my bag. He watches my fingers like an eager puppy. He knows I’m reaching for a present for him.