Elliot tiptoes through the rubble. “Holy wow. Ocean Strong does not know how to pack.”
“Ocean Strong” was the name Elliot and I had come up with for my alter ego, the one I channelled whenever I was feeling anxious, like how Beyoncé used to use “Sasha Fierce” as a protective presence onstage. Beyoncé doesn’t need Sasha anymore, and one day I hope not to need Ocean Strong. But, for now, I cling to the name like a life jacket that will keep me afloat on the stormy seas of my anxiety.
I gesture to my bed. “Um, take a seat, I guess.” I perch on top of a pile of jumpers on my dressing-table chair.
“I’m kind of worried that you’re hiding Megan’s dead body under here somewhere,” says Elliot, wrinkling his nose.
I stick my tongue out at him. “As if.”
Megan was my best friend when I first started school—but she changed, morphing into this high-maintenance, boy-crazy, selfie-obsessed girl that I no longer recognized. Last year she became jealous about my so-called relationship with Ollie—a guy I had a huge crush on before I met Noah. Nothing had happened between us, but even the hint of it seemed to be enough to drive Megan wild with jealousy. It was Ollie who found out about my then-anonymous blog and recognized Noah Flynn, and he told Megan. In turn, Megan put two and two together and told the media, exposing me to the press and the public.
Still, I got my own back when Elliot and I confronted Megan and Ollie in a café, ending up with our milkshakes being dumped over their heads. I haven’t had much to do with Megan since Milkshakegate. News of the incident—still my single greatest moment of stand-up-for-myself bravery—spread around our school like wildfire.
But girls like Megan never stay uncool for long. It’s as though her inner confidence always shines through and bad or embarrassing stuff slides off her like water off a duck’s back. She even makes jokes about how ice cream is the key to her milky complexion. And now she’s got an acceptance letter from the top drama school in London. She’s back to being untouchable and on top of the world.
Even Ollie is leaving our school. His whole family decided to relocate to help his brother take his tennis to the next level. I feel bad for him. Even after what he did to me I don’t believe he’s a bad guy. And now he’s trapped in his brother’s shadow. My two “nemeses” gone like that. The only challenge I have left to overcome is myself.
Elliot claps his hands together. He’s in full-blown Monica-from-Friends organizer mode now. “OK, where’s your suitcase?”
“Uh, I think Alex is sitting on it.”
Alex jumps up and shifts a pile of clothes from underneath him. The sides of my bright pink suitcase finally become visible underneath the wreckage of my belongings.
“How long are you going away, again?” Alex says, appraising the bulging nature of my suitcase.
“She’s gone for fourteen days, three hours, and twenty-one minutes,” says Elliot. “I’m going to count every second!”
“I think my parents are too,” I say with a sheepish grin.
“Did it take them a lot of time to come around to the idea?” asks Alex.
“Oh, only the two months since Noah suggested it at Easter! To be honest I wasn’t sure if I could do it either.” Going on tour with Noah was a huge deal. It was the first time I was really, properly, going to go away on my own. And, even though every detail had been raked over with a fine-toothed comb, I was still nervous about going.
“Of course you can. This is going to be an incredible experience and I am so jealous. Now, Penny, unzip and show us what you have.”
I follow his instructions and cringe at the first thing in my case. Elliot reaches inside and pulls out the biggest woollen cardigan you’ve ever seen, with wide, comfy sleeves I can wrap round myself almost twice. It belongs to my mum, who wore it—as she says—only when she was pregnant, and not before or since.
Elliot takes it out and holds it in front of him. It hangs down past his knees. “You do know it’s going to be the height of summer while you’re on tour, right? Why do you need to bring an entire flock of sheep with you?”
I snatch it out of his hands. “It’s my comfort sweater.” I hug it to my face and breathe in the scent of my mum’s signature perfume. It smells like home. “It’s to help with my anxiety. Miss Mills said that if I was worried about being anxious and homesick on tour I should bring with me the one thing that will always make me feel safe. That will remind me of home. Packing my entire duvet didn’t seem like the most practical option, so the second choice was this cardie.”
He takes it from me, folding it up neatly and putting it back in my suitcase. “OK, you can have that one. But this you can’t have!” He pulls out a baby-pink button-down with ruched fabric roses on the pockets. “You’re going to be on tour, not heading to afternoon tea with your nan!”
“OK, that one can go.” I laugh. “I’m no good at this!”
Elliot dramatically rubs his temples. “Sometimes I think you’re a lost cause, Penny! We’ll have to deal with this later. But back to business: What are you going to wear tonight ?”
Now it’s my turn to be dramatic. “I’ve literally tried on everything I own! I can’t find a single thing. Do you think I can get away with just throwing a black tank top on with my jeans?”
Elliot pulls a disapproving face. “No way. That’s not nearly dressy enough.”