‘Uh . . .’ Speechless, Ivy tried to edge away, but there was no room.
‘You were very gracious about it,’ Amelia said. ‘I’m impressed. You chose not to give that silly girl a hard time, even though she deserved it.’
‘What?’ Ivy spluttered. ‘It was an accident! It could have happened to anyone.’
Amelia smiled thinly. ‘Trust me, you don’t have to cover for her.’
‘I’m not “covering” for anyone.’ Ivy gritted her teeth. ‘Why would it matter? It’s not important.’
‘You see how good she is?’ Amelia glanced back at her admirers. ‘She’s so cool, she doesn’t even have to bother giving bunnies a putdown!’ She gave Ivy a wink as she squeezed her arm, then released it. ‘Don’t worry. You and I both know what the truth is.’
‘Uh . . . uhhhhrgh . . .’ Ivy opened and closed her mouth like a fish as Amelia sauntered off down the hallway, followed by her group of admirers, who kept one eye on her and the other on the lockers.
Ivy swung round to her friends. ‘Did that just happen?’ she demanded.
Sophia shook her head, her eyes glazed with shock. ‘This school . . .’
Brendan said nothing.
Together, they turned to walk towards history class . . . and bunnies scattered all around them, crashing into each other in their desperation to make space for the three goths.
Ivy felt sick as she finally realised the truth. It’s bad enough that the goths are the popular crowd at Franklin Grove High . . . but are they the bullies as well?
Whew. We finally made it here! Olivia let out a sigh of relief as she stepped on to a crowded London street with Jackson by her side. It had taken serious convincing to talk her parents into letting her wander the streets of London in disguise with Jackson, and she wasn’t sure which they were more worried about: her physical safety in the big foreign city, or her emotions from spending so much time with her famous ex-boyfriend!
They had finally made it out of the hotel, though, with Olivia’s long brown hair pinned up beneath a floppy hat, her blue eyes hidden behind heart-shaped sunglasses. She had her cell phone tucked safely in the pocket of a freshly-bought pair of baggy, shapeless jeans from a store just down the road.
Her parents had finally relented when she’d convinced them that the trip was ‘essential’ research for the movie – but even then, they’d only agreed on the condition that she call them every fifteen minutes and be back at eight-thirty p.m. She’d never had such an early curfew back home!
They were a world away from Franklin Grove, though, as they walked into the vibrant, colourful Borough Market. Stalls rose up on every side, selling everything from fruits and vegetables to French patés, goggle-eyed fish and Indian curries. The voices of the traders echoed all around the market, calling out to passers-by.
They might as well have been speaking a foreign language, for all that Olivia could understand!
‘Watch out, mate, ya nearly knocked me off me plates!’
‘I’m not trying to rob ya of your bees . . .’
‘Get on the dog to yer trouble. She’ll sort ya right out!’
‘Yer bees are safe with me!’
Olivia’s head whirled. She whispered to Jackson: ‘Do people in London actually own so many bees that they have to worry about people stealing them? And, do they actually have bees on them – like, in their coat pockets, or something? Won’t they get stung?’
Jackson grinned underneath the shade of his baseball cap. ‘Think about it. “Bees and honey” . . . rhymes with . . .?’
‘Money!’ Olivia gasped. ‘That makes so much more sense.’
‘Yup. Just like dog means phone,’ Jackson explained. ‘Because “phone” rhymes with “dog and bone”. It’s called Cockney rhyming slang.’
Olivia looked around the market with fresh eyes. ‘I don’t know how anyone can have a normal conversation in this city!’
‘Now you know why I’ve been having trouble.’ Jackson smiled. ‘I was hoping to learn an accent, not a whole second language!’
Olivia couldn’t help but laugh – until she felt his hand take hers. For a moment she stopped breathing, even as her fingers instinctively returned the pressure that came from his. The feeling of their hands together was so familiar and right, it was almost painful.
It doesn’t mean anything, she told herself. He’s just trying to make it easier to guide me through this crowd. With so many people shoving for position, holding hands was the only way Jackson could make sure they didn’t lose each other in the crush.
It still feels romantic, though, she admitted to herself.
‘Oh no,’ Jackson groaned. ‘They’re here!’
Olivia looked around, but she didn’t recognise anyone in the sea of faces. ‘Who? Where?’
‘Hurry!’ Jackson pulled her with him through the crowd and down a narrow side street.
As the sounds of the noisy market receded, Olivia heard a dull, two-tone alarm sound going off nearby. Without stopping, Jackson dug his phone out of his pocket. It was flashing red.
‘We’ve been spotted,’ Jackson said. His face was grim. ‘It’s one of those JacksonWatch websites.’
‘Oh no.’ Olivia grimaced. Those sites weren’t just innocent fanpages – they tracked Jackson’s every move. ‘I thought you had Amy feeding them false information,’ she said.
Jackson’s manager, Amy Teller, was fiercely protective of her client, and usually ran interference so that he was only looking over his shoulder twenty-two hours a day.