Free Stuck on Me by Hilary Freeman Page B

probably have the men in white coats waiting for me.’
    Vix doesn’t seem to think it’s funny. ‘You’re not mad, Sky, obviously, but she’s right: you don’t need a nose job.’
    ‘Yeah, yeah. So you keep saying. Anyway, I’m going to find another doctor, one who can help. I’ve got a list of clinics from the back of a magazine.’
    ‘Are you sure they’re OK?’
    ‘Course they are. Vogue wouldn’t let just anyone advertise in the back, would they?’
    ‘I guess not.’ Vix seems unsure.
    ‘So, I was wondering . . . I know it’s a lot to ask on top of helping me find Dad, but will you both come with me? I’m a bit nervous about going on my own.’
    ‘Course we will,’ says Vix, without hesitating, and Rosie agrees. But they give each other another conspiratorial look. I pretend not to notice.
    ‘After school, next week, would be good. I was thinking, if we all skip phys ed on Wednesday afternoon, it should give us plenty of time to see a few.’
    We have another coffee, then walk back onto the High Street and say our goodbyes. Rosie’s off to meet Laurie and Vix has to go to Sainsbury’s to buy a few things for her mum.
I’ll probably go round to her house later tonight, to watch a DVD. On my way home, I take a detour past Dot’s Music Shop. Dad smiles at me from the ‘missing’ poster in the
window. I can’t help wondering – or hoping, really – if soon he’ll be smiling at me for real.

 

    ’m lucky that Harley Street, where all the plastic surgery doctors seem to work, is very close to Camden
Town, just on the other side of Regent’s Park. If we had the time and the inclination, we could walk there. But today, we’re getting the 27 bus from just behind Camden High Street
instead. And hoping we don’t bump into anyone from school or, even worse, our parents. I’ve got out of double netball by saying I had to go to the doctor (just not which sort). It was
harder for Vix and Rosie because they’re both in the same class at their school, which looks doubly suspicious. Rosie developed a ‘migraine’ and Vix said she had something
important she had to do at home. Vix has never bunked off before, but everyone knows her mum is sick, so nobody doubted her. She feels guilty, which is making me feel guilty too, because
she’s only done it for me.
    I was hoping my enthusiasm would be infectious, but I can tell that Rosie and Vix have been discussing my nose ‘fixation’ again and plotting about how they can talk me out of having
surgery. I can tell by the sympathetic glances they keep giving me. Honestly, I think they only agreed to come with me because they’re worried that someone might give me a nose job this
afternoon, on the spot, and they want to make sure that doesn’t happen. If only.
    The afternoon isn’t going well. So far, we’ve been to three of the clinics I found through the magazine listings, and I haven’t got past the reception desks. It’s always
the same story.
    ‘I’m here to see a doctor about my nose,’ I tell the receptionist.
    ‘Do you have an appointment?’
    ‘No, I didn’t know I needed one.’
    ‘A referral letter?’
    A what? ‘Um, no, sorry.’
    The receptionist eyes me suspiciously. ‘How old are you, dear?’
    ‘I’m nearly fifteen,’ I say.
    ‘I very much doubt any of our surgeons will operate on you at your age. And the doctor certainly won’t agree to see you without a parent present, I’m afraid. I suggest you ask
your mother to give us a call and make an appointment.’
    ‘Look, we might as well go home,’ says Vix, when we’re outside on the street again. ‘Like they all keep saying, you’re too young for surgery. It’s a waste of
time.’
    ‘They might not all say that. Someone might think I’m a special case.’
    Vix sighs. ‘OK. Where to next then?’
    ‘Just up the road. Number 14B. The Metamorphosis Clinic.’
    I like the name. It makes me think of caterpillars turning into beautiful butterflies, or ugly