Super Star

by Cathy Hopkins

  In the next hour, Pia did everything she could to try and cheer me up. She made me tea, offered to do my nails, made me toast and jam, which I couldn’t eat, and for her sake, I tried to be more cheerful than I felt. ‘I’ll be OK,’ I promised her. ‘I just need to get my head around it.’

  As the day drew on, she had to go and do some errands for her mum. ‘Come with me,’ she said, ‘I don’t want to leave you alone.’

  ‘I’m OK. Honest. And I kind of need to be alone. Think things over.’

  ‘OK but call me if you need anything.’

  ‘I will.’

  After Pia had gone, I went up to my bedroom and lay on the bed. I still felt numb and was trying to take in the enormity of Connor’s call. I stared at the ceiling for a few minutes and groaned. I hated how I was feeling, like part of me had turned to stone. I felt so heavy but at the same time, like I wasn’t there. I didn’t want to be me; there was such an ache deep inside. I wanted – needed – to get away from it. Anything to distract me. I got up and went over to my laptop at my desk.

  No such luck of escaping because there was an email from Connor.

  Dear Jess,

  I know it’s a cliché, but it’s not you, it’s me. You’re lovely and special and I feel bad if I have hurt you. But I can’t deny what I have with Naomi. When we met up last night, the connection was still there and I can’t lie to you about that. I feel I owe it to her – and to me – to try and make things work. I’m so sorry, Jess. I really like you, you know that. I think it was just bad timing, I wasn’t over her. Not really. I tried to kid myself but . . . Call me. Please. Although I am sure I deserve it if you say you never want to see me or talk to me again, I want to know that you’re OK. I do care about you and I hope that maybe, some time, we can be friends.

  Connor x

  Arghhhhhhhh, I thought. There it was. The ‘I hope that we can be friends’ line. Bad timing, he said. That seemed to be the explanation for everything. I groaned again and Dave looked up from the bed.

  ‘Boys do your head in, Dave,’ I told him.

  ‘Meow,’ he said, put his head down and went back to sleep.

  I read and reread Connor’s email. I called Pia and told her about it.

  ‘Should I email back and ask him to give me some time?’ I said. ‘I feel like I’m reeling.’

  ‘No. I still think you should wait,’ said Pia. ‘Don’t let him know how upset you are. A dignified silence is what’s needed until you’re completely ready. Boys are never very good with us girls when we’re feeling emotional. Wait until you’re your usual self, by which time he may have even come to his senses and realised that he’s just blown it with an amazing girl.’

  ‘OK. I’ll wait,’ I said.

  After we’d finished our call, I still felt at a loss as to what to do with myself. Pia was right. It would be best to wait until I felt clearer and I felt relieved that was what she’d advised. At the moment, I didn’t know what I thought or felt, it was all a jumble in my head. Angry, sad, hurt, resilient – I will survive . . . and in the middle of it, a longing to see JJ, have his arms around me and feel the certainty I had with him that I was always his number one. He’d chosen me and there was never any girl from his past waiting in the wings. I was his girl from the past.

  I glanced over at a photo by my bed. It was of Mum and me wearing silly Christmas hats, taken long before she got ill. I groaned again. I longed to see her too, talk to her, have her put her arms around me and tell me that everything would be all right. Why do the people I love most go away? I thought as a sudden wave of loss hit me. I so wanted to be with someone who cared about me. I thought about Dad, then remembered he was at a conference today. Gran, I thought. I’ll go to her. Charlie and I lived at her house just after Mum died. I still loved visiting there because with all the familiar clutter collected over the years, it actually feels more like home than the mews house at Porchester Park. I feel connected to Mum there. Gran had photos of her all over the place and we’d spent so much time there when we were little, having Sunday lunches, sleepovers, Gran teaching Chaz and I how to cook, to draw, to read, then later, how to survive without Mum. Yes, Gran’s would be the perfect place to go to.

  I grabbed a jacket and headed for the side gate then did an about-turn in case Bully Girl and her mean mates were still outside. I really didn’t want another encounter with them. I made my way through from the staff area to the main part of Porchester Park and crossed reception. Yoram was in his usual position by the door. I felt torn. I knew that I wasn’t supposed to use the front entrance, apart from when I was with a resident, but I didn’t want to go out the back way either. The wrath of Yoram or an encounter with Keira? Which was worse? I went over to Yoram. He gave me his usual unfriendly stare and I almost backed away. This is ridiculous, I thought. I can’t even set foot outside my own home.

  I took a deep breath and went over to him. ‘Er . . . hi, Yoram. I wondered if I could possibly go out the front today?’

  Yoram’s eyes narrowed. ‘I think you know the rules, Jess.’

  I sighed. ‘I do. Staff and family of staff have to use the side entrance. Can’t there be exceptions sometimes?’

  ‘Then the rules would be pointless,’ he replied.

  I sighed heavily and turned to go back inside. ‘Never mind. I’ll go out the side then.’

  ‘Why do you want to go out the front?’ Yoram called after me. ‘That girl been hanging about again?’

  I turned back to him. ‘Yes she has and that’s why I don’t want to go out the side. I’ve tried asking her to go away. She just laughed at me.’

  Yoram stared at me hard. ‘You got to toughen up, Jess. Got to learn to stand up for yourself. Fight your battles.’

  ‘Or not when there’s three of them,’ I said. Got to learn to fight your battles? I felt like thumping him. I felt a sudden fist of anger in the pit of my stomach. I’ve been dumped by Connor and am a love loser. I’m trapped in my own home because of Keira. And Yoram’s telling me to toughen up. He doesn’t understand. No-one understands. Well, I’ve had enough. I am tough! And I won’t be a prisoner scared to leave my own bedroom because of Keira. I can’t – won’t – let her run my life.

  ‘Does your father know about this girl?’ Yoram asked.

  ‘He’s away on a conference today. And anyway, I don’t go running to him all the time like a baby,’ I said. ‘I can handle Keira.’

  ‘Keira, huh? That’s her name? Good for you,’ said Yoram. ‘Show her who you are.’

  Love loser, prisoner, reject, second best, victim, that’s who I am, said a negative part of my mind. I looked at Yoram. ‘Show her who I am? OK. So who am I?’

  ‘You’re a good kid,’ said Yoram.

  I laughed. ‘Kid? I’ll be sixteen in December.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Yoram. ‘Kid. A good kid.’

  ‘I always thought you disapproved of me.’

  ‘Why would you think that?’ He tapped his nose. ‘I keep what I think private. But it’s my business to watch people. I get to see who is who and who’s made of what. I’ve seen you around. Watched how you’ve adapted to living here. I know you’re not a pushover, that’s for sure. You’re a star. A superstar. If you were my daughter, I’d be proud of you.’

  I almost fell over. Yoram had paid me a compliment. ‘Are you on drugs, Yoram?

  For the first time since I’d moved to Porchester Park, Yoram smiled – well almost, more like a glimmer of one. ‘No, Jess. I am most certainly not on drugs.’

  ‘So can I go out the front?’

  ‘If I make an exception for you, I’ll have to make an exception for everyone.’

  I felt like kicking something. Life is so frustrating sometimes, I thought as I went back in through the reception area, back out to the staff houses, then to the side gate. To go out and face Kiera or to slope back home and hide in my bedroom until the coast is clear? Yoram’s words played in my head. You’re not a pushover. You’re a good kid. Stand up for yourself. I had to
tell Pia what he’d said. She’d die with shock. I quickly texted. Guess what? Yoram just told me I am a SUPERSTAR!

  She texted back. I always nu. Just bn w8ng 4 u 2 c it. Call u l8r. Got 2 go. XXX

  I stared at the gate and wondered what lay on the other side. I turned my face up to the sky. ‘Arghhhhhhhh,’ I groaned. No way out the front, no way out the side. What was I suppose to do? Chicken out?

  Once again, I felt the fist of anger in my stomach. Angry with Connor for making me feel this way. Angry with Naomi for ruining everything. Angry with Keira for being a total bitch to me. How dare Keira come into my life and make it miserable? I had done nothing to her. Maybe she would have moved on from outside, maybe not. I didn’t care anymore and the feeling was liberating. In the meantime, I felt fired up.

  I am a star. A SUPERstar, I told myself as I punched in the gate exit code and it swung open. I took a deep breath, threw my shoulders back and stepped onto the pavement. I was ready to face Keira. Wherever she was, I wasn’t going to let her intimidate me anymore.

  Who am I?

  A survivor. A superstar.

  Happiness is:

  Someone unexpected paying you a fab compliment.

  19

  Confrontation

  ‘Let’s make a list,’ said Gran after I’d brought her up to date on all my news about JJ, Connor and Keira. We were lying on opposite sofas with our feet up on the arm rests, having just had tea, and Marmite on toast. Yum. One of my favourites. Gran was wearing jeans and a lovely peacock-blue velvet top. She’s such a groovy gran. With silver-white hair cut into a neat bob, she looks bohemian but elegant too. I was feeling so much better for spilling out to her the whole Connor and Keira story, and also feeling good that I hadn’t chickened out and stayed at home.

  ‘What kind of list?’ I asked.

  ‘A wish list for your perfect boy.’

  I laughed. This was the sort of thing I did with my mates but then Gran was one of my best friends as well as my grandmother. ‘OK.’

  She got up and got a piece of paper and a pen, then looked at me. ‘Shoot.’

  I thought for a few moments and Connor’s face came into my mind. ‘A boy for whom I am number one.’

  Gran wrote that down. ‘Good. And what would he look like?’

  ‘Tall because I’m tall and I like a boy who can look me in the eye. I don’t mind hair or colour of eyes or skin, but I do like a boy to be reasonably good-looking, but not so much that he’s full of himself. There’s a boy like that at our school, Tom, and I was into him for a while but soon realised I could never be number one for him because his number one was always going to be himself.’

  Gran laughed. ‘I know the type.’

  ‘I’d like a boy with a good sense of humour. That’s very important. Someone generous and kind. Has goals. Stuff he wants to achieve. I liked that about Connor. He was so passionate about his photography. I don’t like boys who are too needy or possessive.’

  Gran nodded and continued writing. ‘Not needy.’

  ‘A boy who’s open about his feelings. Not someone who’s moody. Or angry. Fun to be with but cares about the environment. Oh and must like animals.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Gran agreed. ‘Very important. Anything else?’

  I thought for a bit longer and then sighed.

  ‘What’s the sigh for?’

  ‘I realised I’ve just described JJ.’

  ‘OK, I have one for you,’ said Gran. ‘Doesn’t live in another continent.’

  ‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘Skype and having a cyber-boyfriend just doesn’t do it. I do miss JJ, though, and he always made me feel like I was so important in his life.’

  ‘You never know who’s around the next corner,’ said Gran.

  ‘Keira lately,’ I said. I meant it as a joke but Gran didn’t laugh.

  ‘Have you told your father about her?’

  I shook my head. ‘It’s my problem and he has enough to deal with at Porchester Park without hearing Keira’s outside.’

  ‘Oh, Jess. He’d want to know. He’s your father. He cares about you as I do and wouldn’t want to think you’re being bullied.’

  ‘I’ll sort it, Gran. I will.’

  ‘I hope so because this actually bothers me more than your love life. I remember Keira well,’ she said. ‘She was often round when you lived down the road. I remember her because I never really liked her, and it’s unusual that I don’t like a child, but there was something mean about her. I caught her watching the other children play on a number of occasions and she had a hard look in her eye, like she was working out some plan instead of just enjoying being there like the rest of you.’

  ‘Well, she’s not going to ruin my life anymore,’ I said, then sighed. ‘It’s been ruined enough.’ The thought that I wouldn’t be seeing Connor anymore hit me again. ‘Oh, Gran, Connor and I had so many plans for the autumn, exhibitions we were going to see—’

  ‘You can still do those things,’ said Gran. ‘I’ll come with you. Don’t let not having a boyfriend prevent you from doing anything. Yes, it’s nice to have someone special to share things with but it’s important to not be dependent on just one person for your happiness. Strangely, if you can do that, you’ll find that makes you all the more attractive.’

  ‘Connor’s left a few messages but I don’t feel like talking yet,’ I said.

  ‘Then don’t,’ said Gran. ‘He’s made his choice and you don’t have to give him your blessing. So, do you want to have dinner and stay over?’

  ‘Could I?’ I looked around at the comfy clutter that was Gran’s house. I felt utterly safe there. ‘I’d love it and do you think we could invite Charlie and Aunt Maddie too? I’ll help you cook. It’s been ages since we had a family meal.’

  ‘Good idea,’ said Gran. ‘I’ll do your favourite roast chicken even though it’s not Sunday.’ She looked at me with such fondness. ‘Boys may come and go, but your family will always be here.’ She went quiet for a few moments. I knew we were both thinking the same thing – except for Mum. She glanced up and gave me a sad smile. Gran and I often had a telepathic bond.

  The next morning I set off back to Porchester Park feeling a lot more positive. Charlie had been straight round when he’d realised that Gran was cooking. He loved a good meal and although Dad hired a lady to come in and cook for us in the term time, he hadn’t felt it was necessary in the holidays because none of us were ever sure what we were doing and whether we’d be home. Hence, we lived on simple, quick meals that we threw together, takeaways or toasties. Aunt Maddie had come round to Gran’s too and we’d all had a good laugh and catch-up around the table. Afterwards, because it was lovely balmy night, we sat out in Gran’s garden drinking milky coffees and talking about nothing in particular. When Charlie had gone back to Porchester Park and Aunt Maddie back to her flat, I’d curled up on the sofa with Gran and we’d watched a couple of episodes of Miranda (Gran’s favourite sit-com). I felt cosy, content and thankful for my family.

  My head was totally somewhere else when I got off the bus at my stop. I was thinking that I must add time with family to my happiness list as I strode round the corner, heading for the side gate, and smack into Keira and her mates.

  ‘Hey, watch where you’re going,’ said Keira and she shoved me in the chest with the fingers on both hands. She had long nails and it hurt.

  ‘Whoops,’ I said and stepped aside and away from her. Remember, remember, I told myself. She doesn’t intimidate me. ‘I didn’t mean to walk into you.’

  Keira sneered. ‘Apologetic as well as stupid,’ she said to her friends who came forward and closed around me. They started simpering and saying, ‘Sorry, sorry,’ in pathetic voices.

  I tried to get out of the circle they were forming around me. ‘Hey, let me go. There are three of you.’

  ‘Dere are dree of you,’ Keira droned in a mocking girlie tone. She grabbed my hair and yanked it back.

  ‘Ow,’ I said and I put my hand up to try and release myself.
I could feel my heart beating hard in my chest and it was difficult to catch my breath. All I could see was the girls’ faces closing in on me and smell nicotine on their breath. I tried to push them aside, but there was no way I could deal with all of them. I ducked down to try and get out from under their arms, but they just laughed and began to push and shove me.

  Two large hands came out of nowhere and grabbed two of the girls. It was Yoram and he pulled them away from me as if they weighed nothing. A second pair of hands grabbed Keira. It was Didier. Both he and Yoram were wearing their shades and their smart suits.

  ‘Get the Men in Black,’ Keira jeered at them, though her two friends had both gone pale.

  Yoram let the girls go and put his face close to Keira’s. ‘So you’re Keira, the ringleader of this little party, are you?’

  ‘Might be.’

  He got out a camera and snapped her photo. ‘For your information, Keira, I’ve taken a few snaps already of you and your friends and I’ve taken note of all the times and days you’ve been here.’

  ‘Stalker,’ said Keira. ‘I could report you to the police for photographing young girls.’

  ‘They already know. I work very closely with the police.’

  Keira’s friends paled even more and looked around as if searching for an escape.

  ‘I think they’ll be very interested in your activities lately,’ Yoram continued, ‘and the fact that your presence here is not only intimidating to one of our residents, but you’re close to private property. The police may like to know what your intentions here are.’

  ‘Oh shut up,’ said Keira but she looked slightly less confident. ‘And what are they going to do?’

  ‘You OK, Jess?’ asked Didier.

  ‘You OK, Jess?’ mocked Keira in the tone she had used earlier.

  ‘Yes, fine, thank you.’

  ‘So Jess is OK,’ said Keira. ‘Can we go now?’

  ‘No, you can’t,’ said Yoram. ‘I think we need to have a little chat.’ He pointed at one of Keira’s friends. ‘Grace O’Neill. Seven Northern Road.’