by Liz Rettig
To: Jason
From: Kelly Ann
Subject: Hiya
Hi Jason
Saw your London concert. Thought you were fantastic. And all for charity too. I really respect that.
My name is Kelly Ann. I’m eighteen and study the environment at college. Like you, I think it’s just so important.
I know you probably think this email is from another shallow fan who’s got a crush on you just because you’re famous but nothing could be further from the truth. I’m interested in the real you. I think we’ve got so much in common and would love to hear from you to discuss stuff like the Environment and World Poverty.
Of course, I’ve got a fun side too and love telling jokes and so on, but not horrible jokes about poor people or farting, which is gross.
Hope to hear from you soon.
Bye for now.
Kelly Ann
PS I haven’t met that ‘special person’ yet either so I’m single too.
Have checked my email about fifty times but still no reply. Even checked my junk mail just in case, but there was only the usual stuff offering to sell me fake Rolex watches or Viagra or penis enlargement.
Maybe he’s out. Or maybe his computer isn’t working.
Got a reply. But not from Jason, just some stupid admin person who is probably blocking people’s messages.
To: Fan
From: Club Manager
Subject: Great Buys
Dear Fan
Thanks for emailing Jason. Your messages are important to him. Did you know that for just £4.99 you can get a signed photograph of Jason? Or, for only £9.99, why not order our super value photo and I LOVE JASON T-shirt. But real fans will probably only be satisfied with a lifesize poster of Jason, plus the I LOVE JASON T-shirt with matching hat and socks set. Yes, be in touch with Jason from head to toe. And the good news is you can purchase the lot for just £39.99. Go on, order now while stocks last.
Remember your support means so much to Jason. He loves you all.
Decided to send another email to Jason, this time making it clear that it was a personal communication and not to be intercepted by nosy web administrators.
To: Jason
From: Kelly Ann
Subject: PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL
Hi Jason
FOR JASON’S EYES ONLY!!!
It’s Kelly Ann here. Don’t know if you got my last message as I think some incompetent office person mistook it for fan mail. Maybe you need to have words with some of the people who work on your site.
Anyway, I’ve copied it again below. Looking forward to hearing from you soon.
Kelly Ann xx
Wasn’t sure about the xx bit, but probably all creative, arty people put this in emails. It’s not as though I’m sending him my knickers like some disgusting crazed fans do.
Have checked my email over seventy times and still nothing. Was in the middle of composing another note when the phone rang. Stupidly I picked I up. Still thinking about my note to Jason, I said, ‘Hiya.’
Mum said, ‘I’ve just had a call from the school, Kelly Ann. Apparently you’ve been ill.’
Oh God.
FRIDAY OCTOBER 15TH
Yesterday was the worst birthday of my entire life. Of course, Liz and Stephanie weren’t allowed to come over and I didn’t get my birthday money. I was allowed to keep my cards. Big deal. And have my cake, but as Mum screeched at me the whole time I was trying to eat it, the thing might as well have been made from papier-mâché for all the enjoyment I got out of it.
Mum and I have to go to the school office to meet Mr Smith today. Don’t care what happens, I’m not going to classes looking like this.
Yeah! I’ve been suspended for a week for truanting. Mum thinks it’s mental but I don’t care. Another week for my hair to grow.
And another week to watch Jason. All day, every day. Liz, Stephanie and Chris have clubbed together for my birthday and bought me the complete set of Smashed DVDs since Jason joined the group, like I’d asked. They are allowed to bring them round tomorrow although they can’t stay for long since I’m grounded. Can’t wait.
FRIDAY OCTOBER 22ND
My grounding was lifted today but when Liz called and asked if I wanted to go the pictures tonight, I pretended it wasn’t. The thing is, Smashed are on TV live at eight and Jason is being interviewed afterwards. There’s no way I could miss that but I don’t think Liz would understand.
Don’t think anyone could really understand how I feel about Jason now. He’s just perfect. Every little bit of him. Even his ears are gorgeous, and I don’t usually like boys’ ears. He’s got beautiful golden skin, but in close up I can just make out that he has a couple of very faint acne scars on his right cheek. But guess what. They just make him look even sexier. No other boy could possibly compare with him.
Now I understand all that stuff about love and passion that Conner used to go on about before her husband dumped her. No wonder Romeo and Juliet topped themselves. How could I ever have thought that a PlayStation game or a Creme Egg would have helped take their mind off things? But back then I was a naive, stupid kid. Now I’ve grown up and I know what it’s like to want someone so much you could burst.
And I want Jason that much. No one else will do. Only problem is, I’m not sure when, if ever, I’ll get to see him for real.
MONDAY OCTOBER 25TH
At last I look nearly normal. OK, a few spots, but who cares when you’ve been practically bald! I’ve had my pocket money docked, probably for ever, but I’ve got hair. It’s short, but not so bad that I’d definitely be taken for a boy, especially if I wear lots of make-up, which Stephanie has told me I have to do every day now until it gets longer.
She reminded me about Harry but I told her I’m not interested any more. She’s suggested other boys but I’ve turned those down too. No one matches up to Jason.
Liz and Stephanie have both tried to ‘talk sense’ to me.
‘He’s about as realistic as Leo,’ Liz said.
‘Look, you idiot,’ Stephanie said, ‘if it’s that fortuneteller you’re thinking about, forget it. You’re never going to meet Jason, far less find True Love with him.’
‘But she was so just accurate,’ I said. ‘She knew everything about me.’
Stephanie rolled her eyes and sighed. ‘Most people go across the water in summer. We’re on an island, for God’s sake. And a bloody cold, wet one.’
Liz agreed. ‘Everyone has friends, enemies and bad experiences. Accurate my arse.’
Liz and Stephanie just don’t get it. Fortuneteller or not, what I feel for Jason isn’t just fancying. I know so much about him: his likes and dislikes, his hopes, ambitions and dreams. And we’re so much alike. We could have been made for each other. No, what I feel for Jason is much deeper than fancying. It’s the real thing. I won’t ever want anyone else.
FRIDAY OCTOBER 29TH
Our head teacher called an assembly to tell us that in two weeks’ time the school is going to be honoured by a visit from a very famous person. The reason we’ve been singled out is our wonderful work on the organic garden and contribution to environmental issues. The name of the VIP is being withheld for now, even from non-senior staff, for security reasons. We’ll learn more in due course.
Ha ha, Liz and Stephanie. Now do you believe me?
MONDAY NOVEMBER 1ST
Liz and Stephanie don’t believe me. Liz says it will probably be some boring business person or local councillor, like all the other so-called VIP visitors we get.
Stephanie says there’s no way people like our head teacher would even know the name of a boy band, never mind get them to come on a visit.
Liz agrees. She says the only boy band the head of this school would know is The Beatles, and they’d be too cutting-edge modern for him.
Mrs Conner told us the mystery VIP has said he wants to meet and talk to as many pupils as possible and not just staff. Most of these pupils will be selected by senior staff, but there�
�ll also be a writing competition. The pupil who writes the best essay on the importance of the environment will be among the first to meet and talk with the VIP.
Mrs Conner said ‘he’. So it definitely might be Jason. Liz and Stephanie are probably right but I’m taking no chances. Am going to start working on the essay right away.
Decided to email Jason first. He hasn’t answered my other emails, but maybe pop stars like him get too busy at times to check their mail and so have to catch up with it all at once. Also, if he knows he might be meeting me soon, he’s bound to reply.
To: Jason
From: Kelly Ann
Subject: Meet up?
Hi Jason
I think when I last emailed I may have said something about my being eighteen and at college. What I meant, of course, is that when I’m eighteen I’ll be going to college. Actually I’m sixteen but very mature for my age – I look much older than I really am.
I hear you might be visiting my school. I know it’s meant to be secret for a while longer to cut the security risk. It must get very annoying for you being mobbed by stupid immature fans. Hope to chat to you soon.
Kelly Ann xxx
TUESDAY NOVEMBER 2ND
They are showing a live recording of a Smashed concert in Liverpool starting at eight p.m. Rushed home from school to get ready in time. Showered, blow-dried hair perfectly straight, exfoliated and moisturized skin. Put on the red Ted Baker dress and high heels, then applied make-up like Stephanie showed me. Applied foundation and concealer first. Then blue and purple eyeshadow, carefully blended, followed by three coats of mascara – very important to let these dry in between. Lastly lipliner, lipstick (two coats – blot with tissue paper in between) and gloss. God, almost forgot frosted blusher highlights.
Put on earrings and silver chain ‘borrowed’ from Angela, who was out, and rushed into the living room at 7.59.
Dad was watching football. I grabbed the remote and changed channels. ‘Sorry, Dad. I’ve got to see this.’
He looked at me. ‘Are you going to a party or something? Your mother didn’t mention it.’
‘No, I’m going to watch TV.’
‘Why are you all dressed up then?’
‘Jason’s coming on. He’s a singer in Smashed to Pieces. He’s, um, very nice.’
Dad stared at me strangely for a moment, then he said in the kind of slow, careful tone of voice people use when they’re trying to explain things to toddlers or calm a dangerous maniac. ‘It’s a TV, Kelly Ann. And the thing is, you see, although you can see the people on it, they can’t see you.’
Very funny. Dad just doesn’t understand. How could I watch Jason perform live (sort of) if I’m not looking my best?
Fortunately Mum and Dad went off to the pub so I was able to watch Jason in peace.
After the show, couldn’t resist emailing him even if the stupid web manager blocks it again.
To: Jason
From: Kelly Ann
Subject: Ur Amazin’
Hi Jason
Fabulous concert. You were amazing. See you soon?
Love
Kelly Ann xxxxx
Was enjoying just lying on the sofa dreaming about Jason when Chris called. Gary, Ian and he were just about to buy curry. Did I want some? And could they come round to my house to eat it? It was nearer than anyone else’s so it meant the curry wouldn’t get cold.
Just realized I hadn’t had any dinner because I’d been too busy getting ready for Jason. I was starving now so agreed right away.
When I opened the door to them, they all just stood on the step and gawped at me. Then Gary said, ‘Bloody hell, Kelly Ann. You look, well, different. Um, quite nice in fact. Yeah, really not bad.’
‘Yeah, Gary, I’m a girl in case you haven’t noticed before. You coming in or not?’
They came in and we divided the curry takeaway up in the kitchen but took it into the living room to eat so we could watch TV.
Gary settled on the sofa beside me, then said, ‘So, you went to all this trouble dressing up for us, Kelly Ann? That’s nice. Shows you care.’
‘In your dreams, Gary.’ God, some guys were so up themselves. Not like Jason, who’s gorgeous, talented and famous but modest too.
‘Well, I like it anyway,’ Gary said. He shovelled half a dozen onion bhajis into his mouth, then picked up a garlic prawn samosa and waved it at me before continuing, ‘Never seen you wear a dress before. Suits you.’ He looked over at Chris. ‘Doesn’t it?’
Chris was sitting opposite and, I now noticed, staring at me like he’d never seen me before. When he didn’t reply, Gary repeated, ‘She looks great in the dress, doesn’t she? Pretty hot.’
‘Yeah,’ Chris said eventually. ‘You look, well, amazing, Kelly Ann. Just amazing.’
Then he flushed and looked away. Guess he was embarrassed at being made to comment on how I looked when he’s used to thinking of me as just a good friend like Gary and Ian.
The rest of the evening he hardly glanced in my direction and was really quiet. I was beginning to worry he’d fallen out with me for some reason, so when I went into the kitchen to get some Irn Bru as the curry was making us thirsty, I asked Chris to help me.
‘You OK?’ I asked.
‘Yeah, course.’
‘Only you’ve hardly talked to me at all tonight.’
‘Suppose. It’s just that … I don’t know … you look so, well, different, I guess.’
‘The dress, you mean?’ I put on a silly high-pitched Pinocchio voice. ‘I want to be a real girl.’
‘Not just the dress.’
‘Oh yeah, the make-up. Stephanie taught me that. It’s great, isn’t it? Makes me look older.’
‘No, not the make-up. You don’t need it. You’ve got a really nice face. You’re, well … beautiful.’ He flushed. ‘I think so anyway.’
Jeez, that was something coming from Chris – he almost never lies or exaggerates about things. And exciting too. Liz and Stephanie have warned me that famous singers like Jason always have hundreds of girls chasing them, so even if I ever did manage to meet him, the competition would be fierce. Maybe if what Chris says is true, he might notice me after all.
WEDNESDAY NOVEMBER 3RD
Seventeen spots, all on my forehead. Maybe it’s all the make-up I used yesterday, but then sometimes I just get spots for no reason anyway. So much for having a beautiful face and making Jason notice me. Looking like this, I wouldn’t even come up to Terry Docherty’s standard. Something Must Be Done. I’ve moaned about it to everyone who would listen but no one seems to care. Dad just said, ‘What spots?’ Thought he was being sarcastic at first, but, no, he really never noticed. Just shows how much attention he pays me.
Mum said, ‘Away and give me peace – can’t you see I’m watching EastEnders?’
Hmm, a plot about a mother who ignores her daughter, forcing her to run off with a dodgy older man.
Liz offered me counselling to come to terms with my spots. She says I should embrace my spots as part of my personality; accept them and be proud of them as part of who I am. Yeah, right. All right for Liz to talk – she doesn’t have any. Anyway, I don’t want who I am to be Pizza-face.
Only Aunt Kate, who came over to help Mum measure curtains for her bedroom, bothered enough to actually answer. She said she used to be plagued by spots when she was my age but then she discovered toothpaste.
Couldn’t see what brushing my teeth had to do with spots and said so. No one gets spots on their teeth after all.
‘No, Kelly Ann. You rub the toothpaste onto your spots. Last thing at night is best so it can stay on while you’re sleeping. Oh, and wear a turban too. That’ll keep your hair away from your face so you don’t get toothpaste on it. And keeping your hair away helps stop your skin from getting greasy too. Spots love grease. You’ll have to do this for a couple of weeks, mind, but it’ll work a treat. Did for me.’
Hmm. Have dotted the toothpaste on every spot. Now for the turban, which obviously
is a bit of a problem as I haven’t been turban-shopping recently. Who wears turbans now anyway except for Sikhs? Still, Aunt Kate used to have one at one time a long time ago, so maybe Mum had a turban somewhere that she doesn’t wear any more. Decided to ask.
Wish I hadn’t bothered. At first I thought I was in luck when Mum said, ‘Turban? Yeah, just a minute and I’ll go and check my turban drawer. What colour would you like?’
Had answered, ‘Pink please,’ before I realized she was being sarcastic. Hilarious. Mum nearly wet herself laughing anyway. ‘Turban my arse. And don’t go asking your father either. He’s no’ the bloody maharaja.’
Supposed I would have to do without the turban but then I thought of Liz’s knickers. Well, I didn’t actually think of Liz’s knickers, of course, so much as what she used them for, apart from the usual. If they could keep her hair out of her face pack, they could keep mine out of my toothpaste. Perfect.
Rummaged in my drawers to see if I could find an old greying pair of knickers I don’t wear any more. Hmm, all my knickers are old and greying but I do wear them. Have to until Christmas anyway, which is the only time Mum buys me underwear. If I ever get knocked down, I hope it’s not too long after Christmas, or I will be totally embarrassed at the hospital.
Fortunately, spotted a pair of pink knickers with yellow and red Winnie-the-Pooh bears on them which my Greataunt Winnie bought me for my thirteenth birthday and which I’ve never worn for obvious reasons. Well, not quite true: I wore them once when I’d run out of clean knickers, but unfortunately under white shorts so people could see the pattern, which earned me the nickname ‘Bear Bum’ or sometimes ‘Pooh Pants’. Hilarious.
I hadn’t thrown them out though, as Greataunt Winnie always checks whether you’ve binned her useless presents by asking to see you using or wearing them, and even though she was unlikely to inspect my knickers I’d decided I’d better not count on it. However, now I was glad I’d kept them as they would be perfect as a turban.
Put the knickers on my head, and yes, they were nice and tight, keeping my hair back perfectly. Must say I looked a bit stupid with blobs of toothpaste on my face and naff knickers on my head, but so what? No one would ever see me and everyone knows you have to be ugly to be beautiful or something like that.