Girl Online(78)

Then I have an idea. I remove the memory card from my camera and slot it into my laptop, removing the pictures of the hotel room and sending them to the printer. Then I stick them around the edge of my dressing-table mirror like a frame.

I look at each of the photos in turn. The way I felt back in that hotel room was only partly down to Noah. But most of it was down to me. I chose to face my fear and fly to New York. I chose to believe in myself. I chose to trust Noah and fall in love. I am a good person. It doesn’t matter what anyone says about me online. I know the truth because this is my life story, not theirs. And OK, so it hasn’t turned out to be the perfect love story, but that doesn’t mean that I won’t have one, one day. My life can be anything I want it to be—as long as I keep on remembering that it’s mine. Not theirs.

I catch my reflection in the mirror. I look really, really tired and my eyes are bloodshot from crying. But I take my hair down and shake it out. I still love that it’s red. That love is still there, even if Noah’s kind words about it were all lies. I turn off my laptop and phone and I get into bed.





Chapter Forty-One

The first thing I do when I get up the next morning is go and sit at my dressing table and stare at the photos again, absorbing the positive memories like a battery recharging. After about ten minutes, I feel ready to go downstairs. Tom is already up and sitting at the table.

“I’m going to give you a lift to school,” he says as soon as he sees me. “And I’m going to wait outside in the car all day, in case you need me.”

“What? You can’t do that!”

“Oh, yes I can.”

“But won’t you die of boredom?”

Tom grins. “Probably. I’m going to bring my laptop and finish off my uni assignment.”

I smile back at him. “Thank you.”

Tom puts his arm around me. “You can do this, you know.”

? ? ?

As I walk into school, I keep reciting his words like a mantra. I can do this. I can do this. I feel like I have a neon sign above my head saying SILENCE because everyone I walk past stops chatting within seconds. But I don’t mind silence. Anything’s better than the abuse I was getting yesterday. Even when people nudge each other and stare at me, I don’t mind too much. It’s really weird because I’ve spent most of my school years feeling invisible, living in the shadow of Megan’s spotlight. But not anymore. Now, everywhere I go, people seem to notice me. Even kids in other years seem to know who I am. As I walk down the corridor to my form room I think of Tom, parked outside school in Dad’s car. I’m so glad I didn’t persuade him to go home.

As soon as I walk into my form room, everyone stops talking and stares at me. But that’s OK. It’s like the walk through the school was a warm-up for this moment. And at least I won’t have to face Megan and Ollie until drama, as they’re in different form groups. I go to the table next to Kira and Amara. They’re both looking at me like I’ve grown another head.

“Hi,” I say as calmly and confidently as I can.

“Oh, hi,” Amara says. “How are you?” She looks genuinely concerned.

“OK.” I pull my chair back and sit down.

“Are you sure?” Kira says, leaning across to me.

I nod and bite down on my lip. Their obvious concern is giving me the urge to cry.

I become aware of everyone else looking at us and my face starts to burn.

Kira pulls her chair even closer to me. “Is it true? Did you . . . ?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“It’s not?” Amara whispers. She and Kira exchange glances.

“No. Someone told a load of lies to that website.”

“So you’re not Girl Online?” Amara says.

“Yes, I am. I was. But the rest of it isn’t true. Not the way they’re saying.”

“I can’t believe you’re Girl Online. I love Girl Online,” Kira says, smiling. “I found it when I was doing a Google search for Snooper’s Paradise. That post you did about potholes was hilarious!”

“I love it too,” Amara says, nodding enthusiastically.

“Really?” I feel a prickle of hope. They’re being so nice. They don’t seem to be judging me at all.

The twins move their chairs so they’re right up to my table.

“So, was Brooklyn Boy someone else then?” Kira asks.

I take a deep breath. “No. He was—is—Noah Flynn but”—I fight down a wave of embarrassment—“I didn’t know who he was. He didn’t tell me he was a musician and I’d never heard of him before anyway.”

“I hadn’t either,” Amara says.

Kira shakes her head and sighs. “So he lied to you?”

I nod. I wonder how long it will take before I can acknowledge this fact without feeling sick to my stomach.

Amara places her hand over mine on the table. “That’s so horrible.”

I swallow hard. I mustn’t cry now. Not with everyone looking.

“We couldn’t believe it when we found out,” Kira says. “I told Megan there was no way you would have done something like that. I didn’t even believe that you were Girl Online. But then it went all over the Internet and—”