TV Stars!

by Fiona Cummings

  “For those of you who are keen on going for the audition, we’ll do some preparation work for it next week. The address of the rehearsal rooms is on these leaflets.” She passed them round. “There’s also my home phone number at the bottom. If anyone’s parents want to give me a ring to ask me any questions, please tell them to feel free. And on that note, guys, I bid you adieu!”

  Everyone started chattering and headed for the door. A couple of the older girls were talking to Fliss, telling her how something similar had happened to them.

  “Poor Fliss,” I said. “She really wanted to go for that audition.”

  “I know!” Frankie agreed. “I feel a bit guilty that we can all go for it and she can’t.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t,” said Rosie quietly.

  Kenny said nothing. She just looked over to where Fliss was lapping up all the attention she was getting.

  When Fliss finally came to join us, she was looking a bit more cheerful.

  “Everybody’s been really kind,” she sniffed. “They knew how upset I was.”

  “I bet the whole of Cuddington could hear how upset you were!” muttered Kenny. Frankie dug her hard in the ribs.

  Dad was waiting for us outside in the van. I climbed in first and whispered to him, “Don’t ask us about the class whatever you do!” I think we’d all had enough weeping from Fliss for one day.

  We didn’t say much as Dad drove round dropping everyone off. It was a relief when everyone had got out and there was just me and Dad left.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

  I shook my head. If I told him about Fliss, I’d have to tell him about the audition. Then I’d have to explain why I didn’t want to go for it myself. It was best to keep quiet.

  We had two more days at school before the weekend. That meant two more days of avoiding the subject of the commercial.

  “We can’t go on like this forever,” whispered Rosie, as we were tidying the classroom on Friday afternoon. “It’s silly not even talking about the audition. Fliss is going to have to face up to it sometime. I mean, what’s she going to do at drama class next week when everyone’s practising for it?”

  “Worse than that.” Frankie bent down next to us to pick up some bits of paper from the floor. “Kenny is still determined to audition for it herself.”

  “Oh no!” We all looked over to where Kenny was furiously sweeping the floor. She was trying to sweep up the M&Ms (Emily ‘the Goblin’ Berryman and Emma ‘the Queen’ Hughes) with all the rubbish, which was kind of funny.

  “What are we going to do?” I asked.

  Frankie shrugged her shoulders.

  “There’s nothing we can do. At least Fliss will have the weekend to get over it. Hopefully she’ll be OK about everything next week.”

  I hoped so. I really, really hoped so.

  Before I tell you whether she was or not, do you think you could help me lift this bit of scenery over here to the bottom of the garden? It’s going to go in front of the climbing frame to make it look like a castle. What do you think? It’s good isn’t it? Rosie designed it.

  Now what was I saying? Oh yes, I was telling you about Fliss wasn’t I? You’re going to love this!

  Usually we all meet up sometime over the weekend, but that particular weekend we didn’t. I don’t really know why not. We must all have been doing different things with our families, I guess. Anyway, on Monday morning I was kind of looking forward to meeting the others at school. To be honest with you, I’d tried not to think about the whole audition thing. I just hoped that Fliss was OK now, and that if Kenny and the others did decide to go for it, Fliss wouldn’t cause too much of a fuss. But knowing Fliss, that was probably too much to hope for.

  I was a bit late getting to school on Monday – as usual – and by the time I got into the playground the bell was already ringing. I could see Frankie, Kenny and Rosie walking in just ahead of me, but there was no sign of Fliss.

  “Hiya!” I ran up to them. “Where’s Fliss?”

  “Dunno!” shrugged Kenny. “She’s probably taken to her bed because life is so unfair!” She pretended to swoon on to the benches in the cloakroom.

  “You idiot!” laughed Frankie. “It is a bit odd that she’s not here though. She must be ill.”

  In the classroom Mrs Weaver was standing by her desk talking to a girl. We couldn’t really see who it was because she had her back to us, but she wasn’t anyone we recognised. She was kind of small and thin and had long dark hair.

  “Who’s that?” I mouthed to Frankie. She pulled an ‘I don’t know’ face.

  I was expecting Mrs Weaver to tell us all that we had a new girl in our class. But instead, the girl, keeping her head down, walked over to sit next to Rosie. We all looked at each other. That was Fliss’s seat.

  “Erm, I think you’ve made a… FLISS!” yelled Kenny.

  Fliss was no longer blonde. Now she had chestnut-coloured hair and she looked, well – different.

  “What have you done?” squealed Rosie.

  “Dyed it,” muttered Fliss.

  “So you can do the audition for the TV commercial?” I asked.

  Fliss nodded. Kenny was tapping the side of her head to show that she thought that Fliss was crazy. Frankie gave her a warning look, so she stopped.

  “Did your mum do it for you?” asked Rosie. She couldn’t stop staring at Fliss’s hair.

  Fliss nodded. “Mum tried to get through to Angel to talk to her about the audition but her phone was always engaged. So she dyed my hair for me at the weekend. I’ll be used to it by the audition on Saturday, and the advertisers will think it’s natural.”

  It was obvious that the rest of us thought she was crazy, but of course we didn’t say anything. And when the stupid M&Ms started teasing her about it, we all stuck up for her. Pop stars change their image all the time, don’t they? So why not Fliss?

  At drama class on Wednesday night we were all just about used to it, but poor Angel didn’t know what to make of it at all. She kept telling Fliss that doing something so drastic wasn’t really the best idea and that it certainly wouldn’t guarantee her success. Of course Fliss wouldn’t listen to that. Once she’s set her mind on something, nothing will shift her.

  Angel made us all practise for the audition. I suppose she did that so that nobody felt left out. It was quite simple really. All you had to do was hold a bottle of Spot Away, pretend that you were with your older sister and say: “So this is why you spend so long in the bathroom!”

  Angel said that in the advert there would then be a voice-over about how Spot Away works. Then the camera would come back on to the two sisters, the older one would say something rude, and the younger one would pull a face and stick out her tongue. We were all very good at that bit!

  After we’d done that a few times, we broke up and did other improvisation exercises, but you could tell that everyone’s mind was really on the audition. If I’m honest, I couldn’t see what everybody was getting so excited about. It was hardly some award-winning piece of television. It was an advert for spot cream, for goodness sake!

  Before we left, Angel advised all those girls who were going to the audition to practise handling products as though they were advertising them on the television. Apparently it’s one of the things casting directors look for. She said that she would see people at the auditions and wished everybody luck.

  When we got outside Fliss was all excited.

  “I’ve been dying to tell you guys all evening that Mum says she’ll take us all to the audition on Saturday!”

  “Cool!”

  “And she said that we might as well have a sleepover at my place the night before!” she squealed. “Then we can practise everything and we’ll all be nervous together!”

  “Who’s going to be nervous?” asked Kenny.

  “ME!” screamed Rosie and Fliss together.

  “You will audition now, won’t you Lyndz?” Frankie turned to me.

  I shook my head. “Nop
e.”

  “Well there’s no point you coming to the sleepover then, is there?” said Fliss.

  I don’t think she’d meant it to come out like that, but the others all looked really shocked.

  “That’s a bit rude, Fliss!” Frankie turned on her.

  “We always have our sleepovers together. We can’t have one without all of us there,” reasoned Rosie.

  “You’ll just have to audition after all, Lyndz!” laughed Kenny.

  “No thank you,” I said. To be honest with you, it sounded as though it would be an awful sleepover. The others would be practising their stupid stuff all night. Then Fliss would start panicking and Kenny would make fun of her. Nope, I’d be better off away from that. Still, I felt a bit upset because we did always have our sleepovers together and I didn’t really want to miss out.

  “I only thought that Lyndz might get bored,” said Fliss quickly. “Of course I want her to come.”

  “And you won’t have to audition if you don’t want to,” said Rosie kindly.

  “I know!” yelled Frankie all of a sudden, “you can come along to the audition with us and be our lucky mascot!”

  “Yes!” the others cheered.

  They all grabbed hold of me and we danced around in a big huddle. So that was settled then. I must admit that I felt pretty chuffed at the idea of being the Sleepover Club mascot. But all the same, I had a bad feeling about the whole thing. I couldn’t help thinking that something was going to go terribly wrong…

  Things went a bit wrong for me before I even got to the sleepover. I was in kind of a mad rush to get all my stuff ready on Friday night. It’s better really if we have our sleepovers on Saturday because then you can take your time preparing for them. On Fridays, we get in from school and then have to get ready to go out again and there’s usually not enough time. Anyway, on that Friday I was just glugging down a glass of juice in the kitchen when Tom appeared.

  “Who’s going to be advertising zitty skin cream then?” He threw his sports bag at my feet.

  “What are you talking about now?” I asked, trying to sound cool. How on earth had he found out about the commercial? Then I remembered – Juliet!

  “A little bird told me that you’re going to an audition tomorrow,” Tom continued.

  “Well your little bird told you wrong. I’m not going for it actually,” I hissed. Mum was outside and I didn’t want her to hear.

  “Embarrassed about advertising zit cream are you?” he sniggered.

  “No,” I replied. “But if I had spotty skin like yours, I might be.”

  Tom blushed. I felt a bit mean. He hasn’t really got many spots, but he’s dead embarrassed about the little ones on his chin.

  “I’m going to tell Mum anyway,” he said nastily.

  I felt bad because I’d told Mum that Mrs Sidebotham, Fliss’s mum, was taking us into Leicester for the day, but I hadn’t told her why. My heart started thumping.

  “I am not going to the audition,” I said. “But if you open your big mouth at all, I’ll tell everybody about your ‘little bird’ Juliet, and how much she fancies you.”

  That shut him up. But I had a panicky feeling in my stomach all the time I was getting my stuff together.

  The thing with parents is that they’re always one step ahead of you. As Dad drove me to Fliss’s later, he asked, “Why didn’t you tell us about the audition?”

  I couldn’t believe that Tom had grassed on me before I was even out of the house.

  “I’m going to kill Tom,” I muttered.

  “It’s nothing to do with Tom. Fliss’s mum rang this afternoon and told us where she’d be taking you tomorrow,” Dad explained. “She asked us why you didn’t want to audition too. I had to tell her that we didn’t know anything about it, but I said we were sure that you had your own reasons.”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “I guess I just didn’t want to make a fool of myself,” I eventually tried to explain. “Do you mind?”

  “Not at all, love. You have to make your own decisions about these things,” Dad smiled. “You should know that we’d never make you do anything you don’t want to.”

  “Does that mean that I won’t have to do my maths homework again?” I asked.

  “Don’t push your luck!” Dad laughed.

  We pulled up outside Fliss’s.

  “Have a good time,” Dad said. “And remember, you’re always a star to us!”

  I gave him a kiss and jumped out of the van. I felt sort of relieved that Mum and Dad knew about the audition. I don’t like keeping secrets from them.

  Fliss’s mum appeared at the door before I’d even had a chance to ring the bell.

  “Late again, Lyndz!” she said with a bright smile. “Take your shoes off, there’s a love. The others are upstairs in Felicity’s room – rehearsing.”

  We’ve always got to take our shoes off when we go into Fliss’s house, but it always feels weird. That’s probably because I’m not used to it. In our house if you don’t wear your shoes, you’ll probably step in something nasty. But Fliss’s home is always ultra clean. The carpets are all cream and soft and fluffy. It’s kind of like walking on a cloud.

  I left my shoes by the others in the hall, grabbed my sleepover stuff and followed the noise upstairs.

  “So that’s why you always spend so long in the bathroom,” Fliss was saying, slowly and clearly. I opened her bedroom door and was greeted by the others all sticking their tongues out at me.

  “Hiya Lyndz!” Frankie rushed over and grabbed my stuff from me. “You’re going to be sleeping on the floor next to me and Kenny.”

  “This is my sleepover if you don’t mind.” Fliss pushed her out of the way. “I should show my guests where they’ll be sleeping.”

  “Ooh la-di-da!” Kenny squawked, and stuck her tongue out at Fliss’s back. I don’t think she was rehearsing for the audition either!

  Fliss’s room is very like Fliss – all pink and neat. She has two beds, both with exactly the same covers. Rosie’s stuff was already on the spare one and Frankie had put my sleeping bag beside hers on the floor. I put my bag next to it and Fliss straightened them up. Then she asked anxiously, “Should we practise our lines again?”

  “Give it a rest Fliss,” moaned Kenny. “We’ve already been through them about ten times.”

  “Well, will you help me decide what to wear tomorrow then?” asked Fliss, throwing open the doors of her huge wardrobe.

  We all groaned. Fliss makes us look at all her clothes every time we have a sleepover at her place. This time, she couldn’t decide between a pale pink mini and white skinny-rib top or a short fitted navy dress.

  “Well what do you think?” she asked, for about the hundredth time in Sleepover Club memory.

  “I think you’re really sad,” said Kenny seriously.

  The rest of us started to giggle. Fliss looked upset.

  “Come on Fliss, she’s only joking,” soothed Frankie. “But can’t we go out in the garden or something? It’s such a lovely evening, and we’ve been up here for ages.”

  Boy, did it feel good to be out in the fresh air. We acted like a bunch of three year olds who hadn’t seen daylight before. We whooped and cheered and ran about like maniacs. We made so much noise that Mr Watson-Wade, Fliss’s gruesome next door neighbour (or Mr Grumpy, as we call him), popped his head over the fence.

  “Do you think you girls could keep it down a bit?” he moaned. “We’re trying to get baby Bruno off to sleep and it’s simply impossible with all this noise!”

  We said that we were very sorry. Then, when we knew he’d gone inside again, we screamed with laughter and made more noise than ever. It was ace. We love annoying Mr Grumpy!

  Before he could complain again, Fliss’s mum called out, “Supper time!”

  I like my food, as you know, but at Fliss’s you never really know what to expect. Her mum tends to do lots of fancy stuff – dainty little sandwiches cut into stars, tiny little tartlets and ween
y bits of pizza. She probably thinks that if she cuts all our food up small, there’s less chance of us making a mess.

  After supper we went back upstairs and – guess what? The others started rehearsing for the audition again. Fliss has a television in her room and whenever any adverts came on Fliss would scream and point and we all had to watch them to see if we could pick up any tips! It was dead boring, and I wished that I hadn’t come to the stupid sleepover after all.

  But things started looking up when Fliss said that maybe they ought to practise with some real spot cream. Her mum is a beautician so she always has loads of lotions and potions lying about. Fliss went into the spare room where her mum sees all her clients, and came back with a basket piled high with all sorts of jars and bottles. She put it on her bed and we all dived in.

  “Hey, look at this anti-wrinkle cream!” yelled Kenny, opening a jar and slopping some on her face.

  “What about this?” shrieked Frankie. “It says it’s for ‘firming and refining’. I’ll have some of that!” She whacked a great dollop of it on her arms and some of it spilt on to Fliss’s bed.

  “Watch it!” snapped Fliss anxiously. “I don’t think we should be doing this!”

  “It was your idea,” said Rosie, who was smearing some violet-coloured cream over her cheeks. “Ooh, try this, you guys – it makes your skin go all tingly!”

  “All I meant was that we should practise holding some jars, in case we have to do it at the auditions tomorrow. Mum’s going to kill me if she finds out that we’ve been using her stuff.”

  “Don’t worry, she won’t,” I tried to reassure her. “We’ll put everything back and she’ll never know.”

  “Let’s just keep one bottle to practise with,” suggested Frankie. “What about this one? It looks kind of like a spot cream.” She took a small bottle from the basket.

  “OK,” agreed Fliss. “Help me put the rest back, will you?”

  We piled all the jars back into the basket and Fliss hurried back into the spare room with it. She was just coming back when Callum, her stupid seven-year-old brother, bounded up the stairs. He’d just come home from his mate’s house.