“But Penny isn’t doing French.” Dad stares at me like he’s trying to see inside my mind to work out what’s really going on.
“No, but I am,” Elliot says, quick as a flash. “That’s why I need Penny’s help.”
“Oh.” Dad frowns and scratches his head. He doesn’t look convinced at all. “Well, when you’ve sorted your French crisis, come down and have some breakfast. I’m making eggs over easy,” he says in an American accent, “and we need to talk about New York.”
“Will do,” I call over my shoulder as Elliot and I race up the second flight of stairs.
As soon as we’re in my room, I shut the door tight.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Elliot says.
“I was too embarrassed.” I sink down onto my bed. “And, anyway, it’ll be OK. I’ve sent Megan a couple of messages asking her to delete the video so hopefully it’ll be off Facebook as soon as she wakes up.”
Elliot stares at me. “When did you last go on Facebook?”
“About five o’clock this morning.” I get a sick sensation in the pit of my stomach. Why do I get the feeling Elliot knows something I don’t? And how has he even seen the video? I untagged myself from the post, so it shouldn’t have come up on his Facebook feed; he isn’t friends with any of my schoolmates. I open up my laptop and refresh my Facebook page. “Oh no!”
Some kid from Year Nine has tagged me in a link to the video—the video that is now on YouTube. I’ve also been tagged in a link to the school “unofficial” Facebook group. The video is on there too.
“I’m so sorry, honey,” Elliot says to me gravely. “But it looks like you’re about to go viral.”
Chapter Eleven
“Penny!” Mum exclaims as soon as I walk into the kitchen. “What’s the matter?”
I sit down at the table and put my head in my hands. If I wasn’t feeling so numb I would wail.
“She’s about to go viral,” Elliot says solemnly, sitting down next to me.
“She’s got a virus?” Dad turns to face me. “I thought you looked a bit peaky earlier, love. Do you want a Lemsip?”
“No, she’s about to go viral . . . you know, as in on the Internet,” Elliot explains. “Like Rihanna did that time that naked video of her was posted on Twitter.”
“There’s a naked video of you on the Internet?” Dad sits down at the table opposite me. I’ve never seen him look so serious.
“No!” I say, shaking my head.
“Well, semi-naked,” Elliot says thoughtfully.
“There’s a semi-naked video of you on the Internet?” Dad stands up, and sits back down again. He looks at Mum.
Mum comes and sits beside me and takes hold of my hand. “What’s going on, darling?” And that’s all it takes for me to go into a full-on meltdown.
“There’s—a—video—of—me—in—my—unicorn—knickers!” I gasp between sobs.
“So, in some ways, it’s actually worse than being naked,” Elliot says.
“Unicorn knickers?” Dad looks completely bewildered. “What unicorn knickers? What video? Will someone please explain what’s going on?”
“Penny fell over onstage last night when she was taking a photo and she flashed her knickers to the entire audience,” Elliot explains.
“My worst knickers,” I sob. “Well, actually, they were my favorite—that’s why I wore them.” I look up at Mum through tear-filled eyes. “They were so comfy. But not anymore. Now I just want to burn them.”
“Want to burn what?” Tom says, trudging into the kitchen, his hair all messy from sleeping.
“Her unicorn knickers,” Elliot says.
“OK, clearly I’m still asleep and dreaming,” Tom says, slumping down in a chair.
“So you’re not actually naked in this video?” Dad says.
“Yep, definitely still dreaming,” Tom mutters, putting his head on the table and closing his eyes.
I shake my head.
“Well, that’s OK then, isn’t it?” Dad says, looking at me hopefully. “So what if they saw your knickers for a second? They’ll have forgotten all about it by today.”
“Please tell me I’m dreaming,” Tom mutters, his eyes still closed.
“But they didn’t just see them for a second,” I wail. “It’s on a video on the Internet, in close-up and slow motion. People will be able to watch it over and over again. And they’re so faded and frayed!”
“What’s so faded and frayed?” Dad says.
Elliot and I answer in unison: “Her unicorn knickers!” “My unicorn knickers!”
“Oh dear.” Mum hugs me to her. “Haven’t you had those knickers since you were twelve?”
“Mum!”
She gives me a bashful smile. “Sorry.”
Tom looks up at us through sleepy eyes. “I’m not dreaming, am I?”
Elliot shakes his head. “Fraid not.”
“OK.” Dad places both his hands on the table. “Who posted the video online?”
“Megan,” I say.
“Mega-nasty,” Elliot mutters.
“Megan?” Mum looks really shocked.
“Yes, she put it on her Facebook page and now someone’s put it on YouTube and someone else has posted it on the school Facebook page.” I start to cry again as I think of the entire school watching action replays of my knickers.