“Um, OK . . .” I start to take my phone out of my pocket, but Elliot stops me with a glare. I take several deep breaths and then I look back up at Megan. “I’ll ask Noah later, but I can’t make any promises,” I tell her. My phone remains firmly out of sight.
Megan hesitates. When she sees that I’m not going to change my mind, she shrugs, trying to act as if it’s not a big deal. “Well, thanks—hopefully see you later, Penny.” She flounces off, still smiling at me. But the way she snapped at Elliot makes me realize that she hasn’t changed at all.
Now I do get my phone out of my pocket, and I read my latest text conversation with Noah.
Can’t wait to see you tonight! N
Me neither! It’s been way too long xxxx
Almost as if Noah knows I’m reading his texts, a new message from him pops up on my phone.
How are you getting to the concert?
I quickly type in a reply.
I’m walking to the Brighton Centre with Elliot and some friends from school xxxx
No you’re not. N
I frown at his message.
“What’s up?” asks Elliot, spotting my confused expression.
I show him the screen. “What does he mean, ‘No you’re not’? How else does he expect me to get to the concert?”
Elliot shrugs, but then his mouth forms an O of surprise. His eyes widen as he stares past me towards the front of the restaurant.
“What is it?” I ask.
Even before I’ve finished asking the question, shrieks and squeals of delight surround us. I hear Kira scream, “NOAH FLYNN!” and I sit up straight in my seat and spin round.
There he is: my boyfriend, Noah Flynn. Rock god extraordinaire. He’s wearing his trademark black T-shirt, ripped jeans, and a big smile. Seeing him makes the rest of the world—the restaurant, my schoolmates, even Elliot—just melt away. Like a camera pulling focus, suddenly the rest of the world looks blurry while he stands out, clear and sharp.
He spots me and grins even wider. He saunters over to the booth, ignoring the squeals and slack-jawed stares of the girls at the other tables, grabs both of my hands, and pulls me up from the bench. “Penny Porter, do you mind if I steal you away?”
“Not at all!” I say, wanting nothing more than to disappear with him. But then I quickly remember and turn back to Elliot. “Wait, do you mind?”
Elliot laughs. “Go ahead, Pennylicious! I don’t really want a burger anyway—I’m thinking about going vegan.” He lowers his voice. “I’ll go find Alex. I’ve been apart from him for about half an hour and already I think I might die.” He steps out of the booth too, and Noah gives him a big hug.
“Elliot, my man! Good to see you.”
“Good to see you too, Noah! You’re going to kill it tonight.” Elliot turns to me. “Don’t forget me when you’re off with the rich and famous, OK, Penny?”
“Never! I’ll see you at the concert.” I grin, then grab Noah’s outstretched hand. Followed by the gawping looks of all my friends, we walk out of the restaurant and over to a waiting car. It’s concert time.
Chapter Four
Standing by the passenger door of the nondescript black car, holding a big black umbrella, is a big, burly man with a bald head so shiny I’m almost certain I can touch up my makeup in it.
“This is Larry,” Noah says. “He might look intimidating, but actually he sings along to Whitney Houston songs in his spare time and would choose a bubble bath over a shower most days.” Noah gives his bodyguard a friendly punch in the arm as we pass him to get in. “Isn’t that right, Larry?”
“You got me, sir,” he says. “And you must be Penny?” He gives me a friendly wink and I instantly feel at ease. I know why Noah wanted to reassure me about him—he looks like the sort of man you might see standing at the doors of a nightclub on a Friday night, keeping everyone in order. From what Noah just said, though, perhaps he’d most likely be found inside the club—at the karaoke machine, dancing around with a pink cocktail in hand—than outside it, pulling fights apart.
I’m imagining him belting out “I Will Always Love You” as I reply: “Hello! Yes, nice to meet you, Whitney.” I hold out my hand, but my face flushes red as I realize what I’ve just called him. This was not the introduction to Noah’s entourage that I had pictured! What ever happened to sophistication, intelligence, or even normal words? Straightaway I stammer out an apology, trying to rescue the situation, but Noah steps in.
“You’re definitely not the first to call him that, Pen,” Noah says, laughing.
Larry gives me a wink and a smirk. “Well, from now on, Penny, you can call me Whitney. Just don’t go expecting any sing-along sessions, unless you’re willing to join in.” Larry hops into the driver’s seat while I nervously laugh along with him.
Although the drive to the Brighton Centre isn’t very long, it feels good to finally be with Noah. He slides over into the middle seat to sit beside me, his arm wrapped round my shoulders.
“It feels so good to have you next to me!” he says, squeezing me close. “How did your exams go?”
I shudder. “Don’t ask,” I say. “But they’re over now. I can’t believe it’s time already!”
I lean into his chest and feel his heart beating; I can’t help but think this is way better than Skype. I stare up at his chiselled jaw, messy dark hair, and deep brown eyes. How did I get so lucky? I’m normally the unlucky girl who’s always caught in the rain without an umbrella, who never has her number drawn in the school raffle, and who always loses at Monopoly. Maybe life has been storing up all my wins just for this: so I can be with Noah.