The Secrets Club Read online

  I sort of assume his room is going to be immaculate like the rest of the house but it’s not, it’s normal-boy messy. The curtains are still drawn but in the gloom I can make out an unmade bed, a computer with a dirty cereal bowl and mug next to it, and lots of discarded T-shirts and jeans and (avert my eyes!) boxer shorts on the floor. There’s also a lingering warm sour boy smell.

  Rupert may be posh but he’s no different from any other boy. No yellow trousers or scarves or red jumpers. (Tee-hee!)

  I skip quickly into the en suite which has towels on the floor and tubes of toothpaste and zit cream and other stuff left open. It feels weird being in some random boy’s private space. It’s not as if he was expecting anyone so it’s all left out on display. There’s probably really personal stuff here like … Don’t go there, Dani. Take a deep breath.

  I lock the door, slip off my clothes, play about with the shower control until it’s the right temperature and step into the enclosure. Wow! It’s a power shower and it’s so strong! I stand underneath with steam rising round me, loving the sensation of hot water blasting my skin and no one rapping on the door telling me to get a move on. I’m never going to meet him (not tonight anyway), so I help myself to Rupert’s shower gel, Rupert’s body scrub and Rupert’s shampoo and conditioner, and then, when I’m scalded and scrubbed to within an inch of my life, I turn off the shower, step out and wrap myself in the biggest, softest towel I have ever seen in my life.

  I wind a smaller one round my hair in a turban, cover myself from face to toe in Rupert’s moisturizer, pick up my uniform off the floor and stuff it into my bag. Then I pick my way daintily through the bedroom, taking particular care to avoid the discarded boxers. I open the bedroom door and peek out. No one about.

  Carrying my bag full of clothes and wearing nothing but a towel and bright pink skin, I go in search of the others.

  Chapter 14

  They’re in Lissa’s room in various stages of undress.

  ‘Look at you!’ giggles Ali when she sees me wrapped in a towel. She’s the most fully clothed of us all in her cotton leggings and print top. Tash is wandering around in her bra and pants (I didn’t know she wore a bra!), still torn between the fur combo and the white lacy dress. Lissa is standing in jeans and bra (I knew she wore one), daubing some stuff on her face.

  ‘What you wearing, Dani?’ she asks.

  In reply I unzip my bag and pull out my jeans and favourite T-shirt. Uh-oh! I shouldn’t have stuffed my muddy school uniform on top of them.

  ‘You can’t wear those!’ says Tash. I stare at them glumly. They’re crumpled, damp and mucky. I give them a good shake and try to rub the mud off but it only makes them worse.

  ‘You’ll look like a grub,’ says Liss. ‘Borrow something of mine.’ She flings open her wardrobe door to display the entire contents of Topshop. ‘Help yourself!’ she says. So I do.

  But here’s the problem. Lissa’s about a foot taller than me, so all the jeans and trousers I try on are way too long for me. And it doesn’t help if I roll them up because even though Lissa is quite skinny, the waist is too big for me and they fall down over my hips and I look like Charlie Chaplin.

  ‘You’ll have to wear a dress,’ she says and I say, ‘No way!’ and luckily for me they’re all too big as well.

  ‘What are we going to do?’ says Tash and then Ali says, ‘Come on! We’ve improvised before. Remember the fashion show?’ She opens Lissa’s drawers and rifles through the contents. ‘Here we are,’ she says triumphantly, waving a top in the air. ‘Perfect!’

  And you know something? It really is. It’s a sleeveless sky-blue button-up shirt made of soft silky material, but not too girly, so I don’t object to trying it on. It feels lovely against my skin. Ali stares at me critically then whisks a thin brown belt off a pair of Lissa’s jeans and buckles it round my waist. She’s got an eye for clothes, even though she hates the fashion industry; she gets it from her sister.

  ‘What d’you think?’ she asks me. I study myself in the mirror. The shirt looks like a dress now but I like it, even though I can’t remember when I last wore one. It makes my legs look longer.

  ‘She needs shoes,’ says Lissa, ‘but mine are all too big.’

  ‘If I wear my fur combo and boots instead of my little white dress she can have these,’ says Tash, flashing her open-toed high heels at me.

  Ali opens her mouth to object to the fur, sees the others glaring at her, and gives up. ‘OK then, I’ll paint her toenails.’

  ‘I’m not having my toenails painted!’ I object, but she’s not listening. She paints my toenails bright red and then she paints red, white and blue stripes on my fingernails which I have to admit makes them look very eye-catching and patriotic. Then Lissa wants to try her foundation and blusher on me and after that Tash does my eyes with her kohl pencil and triple-effect super-lash mascara.

  ‘Try my new organic lip gloss,’ says Ali, offering it to me. ‘It’s Nikki’s.’

  ‘Me! Me! Me! Me!’ squeals Tash, who is besotted with Ali’s sister, and grabs it first. I watch how she puts it on, then copy her. I never thought I’d be doing this. We grin at each other.

  ‘You look pretty,’ I say.

  ‘So do you,’ says Tash to my surprise. No one’s ever said I looked pretty before. ‘Now then, let’s see what I can do with your hair.’

  She picks up her hair bag and advances on me. I sit there for ages while she blasts my roots with a warm dryer, then teases and flicks my hair into shape with a multitude of brushes and combs. I always thought it would be a real pain to have your hair fussed with, but actually it feels nice and relaxing and I almost fall asleep. Finally, she spikes it with the gel she’s just given Lissa for her birthday and stands back and looks at me with a critical eye. ‘Right then,’ she says, ‘you’re done. What d’you think?’

  I stand up to examine myself in Lissa’s full-length mirror and am so surprised I take a step backwards.

  I can’t believe it’s me.

  ‘You look lovely!’ squeals Ali.

  ‘You look fabulous!’ says Lissa.

  I don’t say a word. I just study the stranger in the mirror.

  I look way older than me and much, much cooler with my new funky hairstyle. My trademark freckles have disappeared beneath a smooth layer of foundation and pinky-peach blusher. Instead, it’s my eyes that stand out; they look enormous, rimmed with kohl and fringed with long black lashes. (How does mascara do that, make your eyelashes grow?) My glossed lips look fuller than usual and the blue shirt/dress, clinched in at the waist by Lissa’s belt, accentuates my figure. (I didn’t even know I had one!) And, best of all, I look soooooo tall in my heels – as tall as Lissa.

  And the nails! Don’t forget the nails: they’re the finishing touch. It’s like they’re saying, OK, everyone, so I know I’m stunning but, hey, I don’t take myself too seriously!

  ‘Wow! I like it!’ I say to my surprise and then I put my hand on my hip and do a twirl. My friends cheer.

  ‘You look so different, no one will know who you are!’ says Tash, so I do my cross-eyed tongue-hanging-out look to remind them who I really am and they all fall apart laughing.

  But you know something? She’s right. When people start turning up for the party they either take a second look at me and shriek, or walk straight past without even recognizing me. It is so funny!

  You know what? I’m loving this party, I really am. It’s very flattering when people keep coming up to you and telling you how gorgeous you look. (Thoug
h it does occur to me that means I must look pretty rubbish normally.)

  Plus there’s the food. Mrs Hamilton has gone to town and I have NEVER seen so much food in my life, all of it labelled so we know exactly what we’re eating.

  Where do I begin? There are:

  little one-pot entrées of curried prawns (Entrées is French for starters. I’m getting soooo good at French!)

  salsa and avocado, hummus, and cream-cheese dips with carrot sticks, broccoli and tortilla chips

  spicy chicken wings

  mini pizzas

  taco shells with guacamole, sour cream, cheese, tomatoes and lettuce

  bagels with salmon and cream cheese

  miniature burgers with onions, pickles, mustard, ketchup or barbecue sauce

  potato skins

  ham, chicken or veggie wraps with mayonnaise

  bowls of crispy things

  stacks of cupcakes

  jugs of iced watermelon and pineapple juice

  sparkling fruit cocktails

  I think I’m in heaven. I make a bit of a pig of myself actually, trying things I’ve never eaten before, but then so does everyone else.

  I thought Tash’s mum’s party was good when we had a pizza night and played football but this is something else. I feel really grown-up.

  If this is what being a teenager is going to be like, bring it on!

  Chapter 15

  The party fills up rapidly. Lissa’s dad comes home, puts his head round the door of the kitchen where we’re all standing around eating, grabs a plate of food and disappears. At least, I’m assuming he was Lissa’s dad. He could’ve been any random guy in a suit who had heard there was posh nosh going free!

  Then Austen arrives. Austen Penberthy is Ali’s best mate from primary school and we all know him from the fashion show which he helped Ali to organize. Austen (shaved head, glasses, nice face) is an eco-warrior and he’s wearing a T-shirt which says ‘Save the Earth’ that he’s tie-dyed himself. Immediately he corners Tash to engage her in a heated debate about the implications of wearing fur, but having made his point he moves on to chat to others. Unlike Lissa’s dad he’s completely unfazed at being the only boy in a room full of glammed-up eleven- and twelve-year-old girls.

  He’s not the only boy for long though. After a while I notice a couple more helping themselves to drinks.

  ‘Who are they?’ asks Tash, then her jaw drops open as one of them drapes his arm round Lissa’s shoulders. ‘OMG!’

  Lissa is looking completely relaxed, like she’s used to having tall, good-looking, mature guys giving her a cuddle. I’m not kidding, this particular guy must be fifteen or sixteen at least!

  ‘Lissa’s got a boyfriend!’ Tash splutters. ‘I don’t believe it! She never said!’

  I believe it. I’ve always thought Lissa was a dark horse. I don’t get it though. I thought she was mad about Ajay, Tash’s friend. Lissa’s life is even more complicated than mine.

  And there was me worrying myself silly about my little secret! It pales into insignificance compared to hers. I wouldn’t want Ajay if I could have him!

  I give myself a little shake. What am I on about? I don’t even like boys! Not in that way.

  But if I did like boys, I’d like him.

  I can’t stop staring at him. He’s got thick dark hair and broad shoulders and a gorgeous smile. He’s smiling at Lissa like he thinks she’s the best thing since sliced bread. Then he glances up and sees me staring at him and he smiles at me too, before bending his head to whisper in Lissa’s ear.

  Oh no! I can feel myself blushing!

  I never blush.

  ‘They’re coming over!’ yelps Tash and the two of us immediately look the other way.

  ‘Hi!’ says Lissa as cool as a cucumber, with the two boys in tow.

  ‘Oh, hi!’ I trill, turning round and acting really surprised to see her here at her own party. She gives me a funny look and says, ‘Let me introduce you. This is Duncan.’ She indicates the other boy: fair hair, T-shirt, baggy trousers.

  Nice. But nothing special.

  What is wrong with me? I never judge boys on their appearance normally. It’s like I’ve not just had a makeover, I’ve had a personality transplant as well.

  To my surprise Duncan extends his hand, first to Tash, then to me. ‘Pleased to meet you,’ he says.

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ we mumble, and then Lissa continues, ‘And this is Rupert.’

  ‘Rupert,’ I repeat as Gorgeous-Smile-Boy takes my hand. ‘Your …’

  ‘Brother.’ She completes my sentence. He’s looking at me like he finds me really amusing.

  Horrified, I drop his hand and say, ‘I thought you weren’t coming!’ which is just about the daftest thing I could say, seeing as I’ve never met him before in my life. His smile widens.

  ‘I didn’t know you were expecting me.’

  ‘I wasn’t! I mean … Lissa said you weren’t coming … I mean … oh flip, I used your shower to get ready, you see …’

  He leans towards me and sniffs hard. I jump back but not quickly enough. ‘Thought so,’ he says. ‘You used my shower gel too.’

  My face grows so hot I think I’m about to implode. I’m really tempted to make a joke of it, which is the way I normally get myself out awkward situations. The words are there, ready, in my head. OK, I come clean. Get it? I used your shampoo, your conditioner and your body scrub as well. And your moisturizer. But instead I stand there speechless, glowing like a beacon.

  ‘You’ve gone bright red,’ observes Lissa annoyingly which makes me go redder still. She should know better being as she’s the biggest blusher of the four of us. ‘What’s wrong with you, Dani?’

  Can’t she understand how embarrassing this is? Obviously not. To be fair to her, she’s probably never seen me react like this before. Dani Jarvis, tomboy of Year Seven, doesn’t do embarrassment. As if to confirm my thoughts she adds, ‘Dani’s mad about football. You two should have a lot in common.’

  ‘Really? Who d’you follow?’

  ‘West Park Wanderers.’

  ‘Me too.’ I’m treated to the full Gorgeous Smile and, encouraged by his approval, I say, ‘I play a bit too.’

  ‘Who for?’

  ‘Um …’ I am so tempted to tell him I play for Blackett because I want him to smile at me more, but I hesitate. Careful, Dani. If you say too much you’ll let the cat out of the bag and you’ll never get to play for them again. ‘Oh, you know, I just kick a ball around with some of my mates.’

  ‘Boy mates,’ says Lissa reprovingly, but then she adds, ‘She’s really good.’

  ‘You should join a ladies’ team,’ he says and then we launch into a debate on the merits of ladies’ and mixed football over men’s and after a while the others drift away, bored out of their skulls.

  It turns out that Rupert is very knowledgeable about sport. He plays football for a Saturday league team as well as being captain of his school rugby team, plus he surfs and plays tennis in the summer and skis when he gets the chance. Action man! But he’s really easy to talk to now I’ve got over my initial embarrassment.

  I can’t help noticing he’s got nice eyes as well as a gorgeous smile.

  ‘Can I get you a drink?’ he asks and I say yes, feeling incredibly grown-up. I am really enjoying this party. I almost wish the Barbies were here to see me chatting away to this guy; that would be one in the eye for them with their patronizing remarks.

  I sigh happily and g
lance around the room. Everyone looks as if they’re enjoying themselves. I’ve been so engrossed in conversation with Rupert that I didn’t notice Ajay arriving. He’s chatting to Lissa and he’s brought a friend with him.

  Even from the back, there is something familiar about that friend.

  I freeze. Oh no! I don’t believe it!

  It’s Marvyn.

  Chapter 16

  Marvyn turns round and looks straight at me. I expect him to be shocked when he sees I’m a girl but he just grins at me so I grin back weakly. When he turns back to Lissa I can hardly breathe, waiting for her reaction. I am so dead.

  But they carry on chatting as normal. He hasn’t split on me. Thank you, Marvyn. I owe you.

  When he looks back I smile again in gratitude, but this time his eyes pass right over me and continue sweeping the room, like he’s looking around to see if he knows anyone else. And then the penny drops. He hasn’t recognized me dressed as a girl. Why would he? He’s only ever seen me before as a mud-splattered male footballer.

  He glances at most girls without a blink but then he spots Tash, who is still talking to Duncan, and nudges Ajay in the ribs. Ajay sees her too and his eyes light up and immediately he makes a beeline for her. Poor Lissa, she doesn’t stand a chance.

  She still trails after him though, so Marvyn, who is left on his own, follows her. I try to avoid eye contact as they pass but at the last minute I can’t resist looking up. Marvyn catches my eye and grins again. Then he stops, a small frown appearing between his eyebrows. Oh no! Look down, Dani, look down!

  ‘Do I know you?’ he asks.

  Um, yes. We’ve played football together.

  ‘Don’t think so,’ I say breathily, my voice unnaturally high, trying desperately to model myself on the Barbies, the most girly-girls I know.