Читать книгу Time to Shine - Lisa Clark - Страница 8

I say nothing, because I know that more than anything, Eva wants me to react. That’s how girls like Eva work. She wants me to make like JT and cry an entire river, or get so mad I turn a shade of super-rage-red, but I won’t. Instead, I try really hard to force my lips into a teeth-bearing smile shape in the hope that kindness will win out.

And it does, in a funny way, because when Eva realises that this particular Pink Lady isn’t playing her bad-girl games, she tuts, she huffs and just like that, she turns her attention to something far more interesting.

Jake Farrell.

Le Sigh.

Jake Farrell is Eva’s boyfriend. Which by default should make him an extremely unattractive boy-type, but it doesn’t. Not one teeny, tiny bit. In fact, I am head over pink, kicked-in Converse heels in crush with him. He’s so sweet, he gives me toothache. He’s sunshine on a rainy day. He’s a whole lot of bass-playing, yummy-scrummy goodness. Jake has been the heir to my heart since way before he started seeing Eva, and despite his poor, poor taste in girlkind, I still can’t help but make moon-eyes at him. A lot.

“Jakey,” Eva coos, tickling his nose with the blue, fluffy feathers at the end of her pen. “Did you want me to sign you up, or do you want to do it yourself?”

He brushes the feathers away from his face and wiggles his nose in a way that sends him soaring off the cuteness scale into a whole new stratosphere of cute.

“Sign up for what?” he asks, looking genuinely confused. Now, confusion is a look he works on a regular basis, but this really is no reason to judge him, okay?

“For the role of Richie in the musical, silly!” she says, rolling her eyes and shaking her head at him.

“Er, I don’t know about that, Eva,” he says, taking a step back from her. “School productions aren’t really my thing - maybe I could help out with the music instead?”

“Jakey!” Eva squeals, stepping right back into the space he’s made between them. “Of course it’s your thing! Gosh, you really are silly sometimes!” She does a perfected faux-laugh and shoves the pen back in his face. “Here, sign.”

“But Eva…” he protests, through gritted teeth, “I can’t act, I’m a musician!”

“JAKE!” Eva shouts. Foot-stomping is most definitely imminent, until of course she realises that her position as Her Majesty Queen Eva, Ruler of the Corridors, is in jeopardy, at which point she turns on her razzle-dazzle, smiles at passers by and lowers her voice. “Jake.” She smiles a no teeth smile. “Will you look at us? We’re practically Parkfield’s very own Richie and Lilly as it is. Come on, you want to really, don’t you?”

Although it sounds like she’s was asking him, anyone who knows Eva knows that when she ends a sentence with a question, she doesn’t actually require a response. So I’m slightly shocked and stunned to hear Jake still talking.

“But Eva,” he pleads. He’s persistent; I’ll give him that. “I don’t think I want to.” Oh, and brave. Definitely brave.

“Jake,” Eva says, changing tack, cocking her head to one side and fluttering her far-too-much-mascara-ed eyelashes right at him, “I’m not altogether sure that matters. What does matter however, is that you love me, and if you loved me, you’d do it.”

Oh, that’s a really low blow. It’s not altogether surprising though - mean girls like Eva can apply emotional blackmail as easily as Pink Lady Angel applies lip-gloss.

Jake lets out a sigh and throws his arms above his head in submission.

“Fine, whatever,” he says, looking deflated and defeated. “Seriously, do whatever you want Eva, you normally do!”

Eva smiles a sickly-sweet smile of satisfaction, plants a lipstick-y kiss on his cheek and takes his comment as a green light to write his name under ‘Richie auditionees’.

In my Jake-filled dream scenes that really ought to be coming to a screen near you soon, this would be the moment where Jake, in all his square-jawed glory, would say, “Enough is enough, Eva - we’re through!” in a suitably American-o daytime soap type way, at which point his eyes would lock with mine, our surroundings would become soft focus, and Jake would finally realise that the girl he should be with - that’s me btw - is right here in all her pink-tinted fabulousness.

What really happens is nowhere near as entertaining.

Jake catches Sadie and I trying to pretend we’re not eavesdropping, when quite clearly we are, and shrugs his shoulders in a ‘what can you do?’ motion just as a jock-boy in knee-high socks and football boots gives him a boy chum greeting. The kind that involves lots of grunting and back-slapping, which personally, looks nowhere near as fun as squidgy, girly hugs.

Although he might not want the role of Richie in Time to Shine, Jake really is pretty much perfect for it. Just like Jake, Richie is a jock-boy and just like Jake, he plays in a band too. Except, unlike Jake, Richie finds himself falling for the super-kooky Lilly who isn’t part of the so-called cool clique - she’s not part of anyone’s clique she walks her own path, making pink kitten heel-shaped footprints as she goes. He’s never met anyone like her before, and he’s totally mesmerised by her whimsical and slightly off the wall ways.

Oh Jake, I could totally be your Lilly.

Sadie shakes her head in disbelief. “Did that just happen?” she whispers.

“Uh-huh.” I confirm. “Poor Jake, huh?”

“Er…no, Lo, not poor Jake at all,” Sadie says, pulling me to one side out of Eva’s earshot. “It’s because people like Jake let her get away with her insecure, bad-girl behaviour that she keeps on doing it. If Jake’s not big enough to stand up to her then fine, but there’s no way I’m going to let her stop you from auditioning, okay?!”

“Okay!” I agree, hugging Sadie tight.

Eva may have pretty hair, get good grades and date the bee-you-tiful Jake Farrell, but I’ve got one thing that she hasn’t got. I’ve got an amazing, sparkly-gorgeous Sadie, and if you ask me that makes me by far the luckiest girl in Girlsville. Fact.