Free My Secret Rockstar Boyfriend by Eleanor Wood Page A

Griffith.
    The first is just one word. ‘Please.’ The second says only, ‘I really wanna meet you!!’. The next few follow on from this along much the same theme. There is another
iPhone photo of Jackson Griffith, doing a sad face. He looks like an adorable puppy. A very sexy, adorable puppy.
    After that, the photos and random messages continue and it should be creepy, but somehow it’s not. It’s weird but it’s sweet. Next is a wonky photograph of a chain-link fence
with a pink flowering plant growing up it, the California sunshine bright and a big blue car in the background: ‘
the view from my new place here in Los Feliz . . . wish you were here. I
live opposite the old high school where they filmed the movie
Grease
. I have a weird feeling you might like that movie. I think it’s OK, as is the country Greece. Write, call, email,
text any time. Come round for dinner
.’
    After sifting through them all, I come to the final email. It just says, ‘I will cease being a pest now. Yours etc., JEG X.’
    I am still staring at it when I hear my mum’s key in the door. I quickly snap my laptop shut. With lightning speed, I switch off the light, leap into bed, pull the covers up to my chin and
screw my eyes so tightly shut that it hurts.
    I think I would feel better about my decision to blow off Jackson Griffith if Seymour and Nishi could just be a bit more bloody gracious about the whole thing.
    ‘Hey, Chew,’ Nishi greets me in the canteen, where she is already sitting with Seymour – most annoyingly, he is in my usual seat. ‘How’s it going? Meet any pop
stars in double English this morning? I’ve noticed that new caretaker out on the sports field looks a bit like Harry Styles; maybe he reads your blog!’
    She’s looking at me like I should know why her tone is so nasty, but I have no idea.
    ‘Wow! Why are you being so bitchy this morning?’ I ask, genuinely taken aback.
    ‘Oh, don’t be so touchy,’ Seymour chuckles. ‘Nish is only kidding. You’ve got to admit, the whole thing has been a bit of a joke.’
    I smile along as best I can, just to show that I’m not being ‘touchy’. And I’m not, I don’t think. They’re not being fair – I’m really trying
here. This is fast turning into one of those ‘jokes’ that becomes a running theme and is used to make a person feel bad at every possible opportunity.
    It’s weird that they’re teaming up like this – and I’m not sure I like it. I’ve always wanted them to get on, but this is a step too far. Nishi has never really
taken Seymour seriously, and he’s always been a little bit intimidated by her, so they’ve kept each other at a comfortable arm’s length before now. Both Nishi and Seymour can be
quite judgemental sometimes – I should have predicted that this would happen if they ever had cause to join forces.
    ‘I’ve noticed there hasn’t been any more action on your blog. Has the nutter given up and left you alone?’ Seymour asks.
    ‘I guess so,’ I agree, taking a massive mouthful of my macaroni cheese and burning the skin off the roof of my mouth in the process. ‘That’s the end of it. I’ve
learned my lesson; you guys were right. I won’t reply to anything like that ever again.’
    It feels as if they’re both looking at me a bit too hard. Maybe it’s unlike me to give in like this, and not put up a fight or at least try to make some sort of
‘hilarious’ joke out of the whole thing. I just can’t be bothered. I feel like I’ve cut off contact with Jackson Griffith for their sake, and now they’re being so mean
to me it doesn’t seem even a tiny bit worth it. I can’t help but feel a bit begrudging. I shovel down a bit more cheesy pasta to avoid having to make conversation.
    ‘Watch it, Chew,’ Nishi warns. ‘You don’t want to chuck up your dinner all over Seymour’s jeans again!’
    She gives off another drain-like laugh and looks mildly disappointed when Seymour doesn’t join in. If