Stella

by Helen Eve

  Dress to impress, Katrina had said as she lent me a beautiful blue Galaxy dress. Weirdly it did give me a sudden flash of confidence now, and I managed to smile as I stepped up to the podium.

  ‘It doesn’t matter if you’re nervous,’ Edward had told me as we practised. ‘Your selling point is that you’re normal and accessible.’

  I took a deep breath. ‘Classmates,’ I began.

  It came out a little croaky, but right then someone in the front row wolf-whistled. I knew it was probably a plant, but somehow it changed everything. I could do this, and I didn’t need the speech Edward and I had prepared about policies and pledges. Katrina had arranged my cue cards in front of me, but I moved them aside before taking hold of the lectern with both hands.

  ‘I’d like to start with a story about my first day at Temperley High,’ I said, my voice growing steadier. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Edward raise his eyebrows, but he let me continue.

  ‘Everyone can relate to starting a new school, right? It’s scary. In fact, it’s the scariest thing I’ve ever done. I was worried no one would talk to me; that I was wearing the wrong clothes; that I’d fall on my face in the hallway. I wasn’t only starting a new school, I was starting a new continent. I was leaving my mom, my baby brother, my friends … you can imagine how I felt.’

  There was a noticeable ripple of sympathy, and I saw some of the Shells and Removes waving Vote Caitlin flags. Katrina smiled and stepped backwards.

  ‘Everything was different: the accents, the schoolwork … even the chocolate! I couldn’t imagine how I’d ever find my place.’

  Dr Tringle smiled encouragingly at me as I paused, and I grinned back at her.

  ‘And that’s why I, as your Head Girl, would work hard to make Temperley High feel like home. Because it is our home. It’s your home.

  ‘Your fellow students are your family, and should treat you as such. You shouldn’t have to worry about which lunch table to sit on, or whether you fit in with the coolest kids, or if you can afford the right handbag or pair of earrings. If there’s one thing I’ve learned since being here, it’s that beauty and money and popularity don’t make you better than anyone else.’

  I couldn’t resist glancing over my shoulder at Stella. She looked livid and I decided it was time to wind up.

  ‘I’m not going to bore you with policies about what I will and won’t do as Head Girl. What I do want to say is that I understand what it’s like to feel insecure, and, as Head Girl, I’ll make sure there’s room enough for all of us to be ourselves, to fit in, and to be happy. Oh, and Edward and I will throw a huge party if we win. I promise.’

  The applause was deafening and I stared in amazement as the audience got to their feet. The flags and rosettes that Katrina had handed out swelled like an ocean of validation. Pure adrenaline filled me as I took a second to appreciate this moment. I was pretty sure it was the best thing that had ever happened to me.

  Edward, up next, had the good sense to introduce himself rather than let his manager Quentin near the microphone. Although he’d had no time to adjust his speech in light of my impromptu performance, he did a characteristically good job of getting the students onside with talk of his proposed victory party, and gaining the faculty’s approval with plans for a new peer counselling programme specifically aimed at discouraging the friendship cliques that I’d just condemned. The reaction he got was almost as great as mine.

  Mr Trevelyan stepped forward to quiet them as Edward took his bow, and we returned to our seats as Caroline introduced her candidate Ruby. Cowed by what she’d just witnessed, Ruby was barely coherent as she stammered her way through a near-replica of the pedestrian speech I’d planned to give, and no one listened to a single word. Her running partner Henry had attended the Summer Eights dinner the night before, and, too hungover to take off his Ray-Bans or speak above a whisper, he fared little better.

  As the audience was dismissed, Edward looked at me like I was a stranger. ‘I’m amazed!’ he said.

  ‘I’m sorry I changed our strategy,’ I said worriedly. ‘It wasn’t planned, I promise.’

  He laughed. ‘Are you kidding me? You were incredible – it was exactly what everyone wanted to hear. It was a million times better than the speech we wrote.’

  I relaxed in relief as we stood up.

  ‘Shake everyone’s hand,’ he whispered, pushing me towards the other competitors. ‘You’re a politician now.’

  I grinned happily as everyone congratulated me. ‘You were brilliant,’ said Mary-Ann, sounding awed.

  ‘You really were,’ agreed Ruby. ‘You should be a professional politician. Would you consider competing in Miss World?’

  ‘Nice work, Miss Popularity,’ Tom muttered to Stella as he stormed past.

  She seemed to wince as Edward gave me a giant bouquet of roses before twirling me around. ‘To the girl of the moment,’ he said. ‘I’m so proud of you.’

  As he put me down, I saw Luke shake his head at Stella before following Tom from the room. Outside the door was a group of Shells brandishing notebooks, and Edward pushed me towards them so I could begin signing my name.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Stella

  All I want to do after the speeches is drink away my humiliation, or, failing that, go to bed. I’m trying to choose between the two as I avoid my next lesson – English, which I was planning to cut anyway – and walk towards Woodlands.

  I take a detour through the orchard, hoping not to see anyone, but Edward calls out to me from his seat in a wide branch of his favourite apple tree.

  ‘Come and sit with me,’ he says. ‘I’m only three feet off the ground.’

  The invitation is still unappealing, because I’m very fond of my Kurt Geiger wedges, and this must show on my face.

  ‘Still as vain as ever?’ he asks.

  I hit him lightly as I remove my shoes and climb up to sit beside him. As he waits for me to clean my hands with sanitizer, I know he’s thinking about all the times I made us late because I couldn’t decide on an outfit or how to wear my hair. It seems like a lifetime ago.

  ‘So how are you?’ he asks. ‘I’m sorry about what happened to you today.’

  He takes my hand for a second, apparently unselfconsciously, and then lets it drop. It’s at once strange to think of him being my boyfriend and strange that he’s not.

  Whatever our relationship, we understand each other as no one else can. For one, we’re the only students never to have a familial presence on Parents’ Day, and Sports Day, and prizegivings. Of course no one wants their parents hanging around, but if I’m truthful I wonder why I bother working so hard and winning all the prizes when no one takes any notice.

  Edward’s parents are almost as bad as Seraphina at keeping in touch. When we were Shells, we all received care boxes from home, and, not knowing better, I opened mine in front of the other girls. While they had teddy bears, jelly beans and pink hair slides, I had a ticket to a health spa with complimentary Botox and liposuction (you had to be eighteen to use it so I gave it to Mrs Denbigh, who was rendered unable to frown for six months), a cellulite-beating body scrub, a course of fibre-based appetite suppressants and battered copies of Polo and Hollywood Wives (Mrs Denbigh also took these). Instead of a letter with news from home was a signed portfolio photograph (Much love, Sera!).

  I remember teasing Ruby about her My Little Pony stickers and then burning Seraphina’s face out of the photograph with a cigarette lighter. I burned my fingers too, but I expect that was an accident. Edward, whose father sent an Action Man that he’d last played with aged six and a cheque to cover various damages to school property, set our boxes on fire; Mrs Denbigh, who extinguished the flames, never punished either of us.

  ‘I’m not having a great week,’ I acknowledge. ‘You know Luke and I split up?’

  I think I might cry, obviously as a delayed reaction to this morning’s debacle, so I look away quickly. Edward usually gets embarrassed when I cry, but this time he sm
iles sympathetically and, after a second’s pause, takes my hand again. ‘I heard. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.’

  ‘Did he – did he tell you what happened?’ I ask.

  ‘No. We never talk about you like that. You’re off-limits, you know?’

  ‘Good.’

  I hated hurting Edward when we broke up, but whilst Luke and I were together I could pretend that the end justified the means. Breaking up with him changes everything.

  Instead of replying, he shakes a branch overhead so that apple blossom falls over us like confetti. I wonder what the other Stripes would make of this.

  ‘It’s good to see you,’ I say. ‘Maybe we could start having proper conversations again?’

  I don’t expect him to contest this – it’s not as if I’m asking him to sign a contract – but he looks uncomfortable. I shift closer to him, trying to bring the situation back under control. I push my hand next to his, close enough that he can hook my little finger with his thumb. When he doesn’t, I shift incrementally and graze against him.

  He looks down, and I see him extend his fingers ready to enclose mine. He is deliberate as he holds still for a second. Then he takes his hand back.

  ‘It’s too difficult now we’re officially campaigning against each other. And, besides, it’s not respectful of Caitlin.’

  The mention of Caitlin cuts across the atmosphere, and anything that was between us is lost. ‘Of course,’ I say, rallying enough to reply, ‘If Caitlin’s now that important to you.’

  He fidgets. ‘Stella, you chose Luke and I accept that. But please understand that it hasn’t been easy for me. Please give me a chance to get over it.’

  Edward has never spoken quite like this before and shame fills me, heavy and immobilizing, as I see that even now I’m treating him as a weapon to undermine Caitlin. Whatever my issues are with her, they don’t involve him.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper. ‘And I’m sorry about the election too. I promised to run with you, and I made it impossible.’

  He flashes his familiar smirk. ‘That’s your loss; we had it in the bag. Today would have been a whole different story with me in your corner.’

  ‘At least one of us is winning,’ I say.

  He jumps down from the tree and hugs me awkwardly, keeping a gap between us, and we stand for a moment underneath earnest names carved into a favourite tree: Jack Lawrence + Siena Hamilton. The worry that has crippled me since last summer threatens to surface now that the effects of our break-up are so undeniable. But as Edward kisses me on the head, once again the swaggering image of his brother, I let him go, and I wonder exactly what it was that I hoped he could give me.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Caitlin

  My high lasted the whole of Speech Day and intensified when Stella cut all her lessons and still hadn’t reappeared by curfew. After celebrating with Katrina in the Common Room, I was en route to my bedroom when I passed her portrait.

  Since she’d fainted in Art class, it had been moved into an alcove off the main quad where there was more space. She now worked on it there, standing on a platform the Stripes had made for her in Woodshop. I looked at it every chance I got, even though it felt like a deliberate reminder to everyone of her royal status. And it wasn’t even finished yet.

  I stopped short as I reached the spot where the painting had hung. It was no longer there. I doubled back in case I’d gotten confused, but there was no doubt this was the right place: the platform was there, and the outline of the frame was still visible in the paintwork.

  ‘What’s your damage, Heather?’ said a voice behind me. It was a voice that had once thrilled me to my core, but now I wanted only to escape it.

  ‘I didn’t do anything,’ I insisted as I turned reluctantly around, even though the denial just made me sound guilty. ‘It was missing when I got here.’

  Stella stared, trance-like, at the place where the painting had been. Then she came back to life. ‘I hope no one gets a photograph of you at the crime scene. What will the Shells think of you?’

  ‘Are you going to say I stole your painting?’ I asked in horror. ‘It was nothing to do with me!’

  I was rooted to the spot as she walked away without responding. Before I recovered enough to move I heard a camera click and echoing, mocking laughter.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Stella

  I shift in my seat as Lila and Penny look at me accusingly. Their phones sit in front of them and I can see a stream of online updates. All are about me, and none are favourable.

  ‘How can it be my fault?’ I try again. ‘I’m not posting these things.’

  Lila raps her fingernails on the Star table. ‘You think it wasn’t your fault that Edward left you to form his own superpower? Or that you upset Luke so badly that he can’t even look at you? Or—’

  ‘Okay,’ I interrupt. ‘Some of it might be my fault. But it’s just a temporary setback, Lila. We’re still on the same team.’

  ‘We were on the same team,’ corrects Lila. ‘Now I just don’t know.’

  Penny pats my hand hopefully. ‘Do you have a masterplan?’

  ‘Such as?’ I say.

  ‘Swapping Edward for Luke was such an interesting strategy,’ she begins confidently. ‘We were sure you knew what you were doing.’

  ‘Luke was not a strategy!’ I argue, still unable to admit to them that losing Edward was his choice and not mine. ‘Why on earth would I have deliberately put myself between him and Edward?’

  ‘The universal truth – there’s no such thing as bad publicity.’ Penny shreds her napkin. ‘It’s all about keeping in the public gaze, no matter how. My dad says that’s only one of the reasons why Liz Hurley is so admirable.’

  ‘I’m not sure I agree,’ Lila says. ‘It was all very well when Luke and Edward wanted Stella, but right now she’s undesirable to them both. Who’ll support that?’

  ‘Caitlin’s a Star too,’ Penny says, her faith in me visibly receding. ‘Our fans don’t know which way to turn. All my Twitter followers are as confused as I am. If you don’t have a masterplan, what can I tell them?’

  ‘Caitlin’s not a Star,’ I manage, but our eyes fall onto her engraving at the place Ruby once sat.

  ‘She has the earrings,’ Lila says. ‘Even if she’s not wearing them.’

  ‘Only because Ruby screwed up last term,’ I say recklessly. ‘Caitlin was never really supposed to have them – she was never part of the plan.’

  Lila looks disgusted. ‘You know there’s more at stake here than just you. We all need a Star to win this election, and you’re not delivering what you promised.’

  Penny nods. ‘Last summer you promised that splitting from Edward wouldn’t affect the election. Otherwise we’d have vetoed your break-up or chosen another candidate. You said you were a dead cert.’

  ‘I am a dead cert,’ I say.

  ‘Do you understand what’s happening?’ Lila persists. ‘You got trounced at Speech Day and now the student body has turned on you. If you drop out, we can all back Caitlin, but if you both stand, something terrible could happen, like Lucy winning! Having a Star win is what’s important. No one’s bigger than the brand.’

  I’m floundering too much to remind her of what should be obvious: that I am the brand. ‘Caitlin’s broken us up! Look at us fighting and divided! We were never like this before she came along.’

  ‘We were.’ Being a mathematician makes Lila annoyingly literal. ‘You should accept that she’s the right person for the job. All the younger kids love her. They follow her everywhere, and half of them are wearing purity rings and talking in American accents.’

  ‘She’s a novelty,’ I say, more dismissively than I feel.

  ‘It’s been six months,’ says Lila. ‘You can’t deny that she’s got staying power.’

  Ignoring her, I place my hand in the centre of the table. ‘One,’ I say as firmly as I can.

  Lila almost laughs. ‘You aren’t serious? You can’t possibly thin
k we’re aligned right now.’

  We’re interrupted as Caitlin rushes over, her eyes wide and upset. ‘People are saying that I stole your portrait. This looks really bad, Stella.’

  She holds out an iPad studded with crowns to show me a photograph of herself beside the grubby canvas outline that stands out on the wall like a chalk body. She’s wide-eyed and pure Disney in her pink Pucci dress: she couldn’t look less like a burglar if she tried.

  ‘I assume you’re going to set the record straight?’ she adds.

  I sigh. ‘Caitlin, rumours like that aren’t worth my time.’

  ‘Of course they are,’ she stammers. ‘You’re just saying that because I’ve been trending all week – everywhere – and you’ve only trended once, and that was just because no one liked your nail varnish on Tuesday. It was heinous, by the way.’

  She checks her iPad again. ‘I suppose you’re trending now, but that doesn’t count because the portrait story is more about me than you. Rebellious behaviour won’t appeal to my core demographic: it could alienate the Shells.’

  I want her to know how it feels when your every move is stalked and criticized. ‘I don’t respond to gossip.’

  She stares for a moment and then returns to her new table, while Lila scowls at me.

  ‘We can’t make you drop out, but we can withdraw our support,’ she says. ‘Quitting while you’re behind is your best option, because, starting right now, the Stars are Team Caitlin.’

  ‘You aren’t serious?’ I ask. I look around for help but none is forthcoming. Mary-Ann is at a violin lesson and across the room I see Caitlin and Ruby, not to mention the rest of their band of misfits, watching with open enjoyment. Only Katrina is avoiding my gaze and she’s the last person I can turn to.

  ‘We are,’ Lila confirms. ‘And there’s something else too. I’m sorry it’s come to this, but we’ve given you every opportunity to change your mind. As you won’t, we have no choice but to no-confidence you.’