Free Chocolate Box Girls: Bittersweet by Cathy Cassidy

Shay?’
    ‘It’s what I want,’ I blurt. ‘Definitely, totally. I mean … whoa!’
    ‘This won’t be the same as signing to a big record label,’ Nikki points out. ‘It’s a much gentler way to make your mark. You’ll get a lot of exposure, but it’ll be all about the music itself … not about turning you into some kind of teen pop idol. Your parents are much more comfortable with that idea.’
    Dad raises an eyebrow, as if he’s not too sure at all, but is doing his best to live with it. ‘Might all come to nothing,’ he says gruffly. ‘But if you end up being famous, remember your old dad, won’t you?’
    He smiles cautiously, and fifteen years of misunderstandings begin to fall away. It doesn’t matter, not now. With families, it is never too late to start over.
    Much later, I am walking over to the storeroom den at sunset, the blue guitar slung over one shoulder, when I see a lone figure down on the shore. Honey is looking out at the horizon, her blonde choppybob ruffling in the breeze, arms wrapped around herself in the chill evening.
    ‘Hey,’ I call, and Honey turns, snapping out of her dream. ‘I just wanted to thank you.’
    ‘Thank me? For what?’
    ‘Well … I think you made that music page on SpiderWeb,’ I say quietly. ‘And the page went a bit crazy …’
    ‘Viral,’ Honey supplies. ‘Not me, though. I don’t have time for good deeds, or the internet – I spend all my spare time studying these days.’
    ‘Yeah, right!’ I grin. ‘Anyway, lots of people saw it, including Finch and his mum … they got the TV people to listen, and now it turns out that “Bittersweet” is going to be the opening soundtrack on that movie they were making. It fits in with the theme, apparently. You probably know all this … half your family came over to the sailing centre earlier, with Finch and Nikki, to tell me the news. The best bit is, Dad finally stopped being pig-headed and he’s going to let me do it …’
    ‘I knew something was going on,’ Honey says. ‘Your luck turned then?’
    ‘I guess. And I have you to thank because you took the video, and I’m pretty sure you posted it online. Everyone’s been talking about it but nobody seems to know who’s behind it … Cherry and the others thought it was Ben, but he’d havesaid. Besides, he doesn’t even have SpiderWeb.’
    ‘What does it matter who made the page?’ she shrugs. ‘Just leave it. One of life’s great mysteries.’
    ‘I’ve solved it,’ I smile. ‘I loved what you did with the video – very arty.’
    ‘Thanks,’ she says. ‘Best if they think Ben made it, though. We don’t want you getting into trouble again, do we?’
    ‘That won’t happen. Cherry and me, we’re fine now – unbreakable.’
    ‘Right,’ Honey says. ‘Well. That’s … good.’
    I catch the bright glint of tears in her eyes and look away, embarrassed. When I glance up again there’s no trace of sadness, just perfectly painted eyeliner, a glossy smile, the cool, hard look I know so well.
    ‘Run along, Shay,’ she tells me. ‘You know what happens when you’re seen hanging out with me. I’m bad news. Trouble. Selfish to the bone.’
    ‘I don’t believe that.’
    ‘I know you don’t,’ Honey says, and the ghost of a smile flickers across her face. ‘You never did, and I sometimes think you were the only one. But trust me, Shay … some things are better left unsaid.’
    She turns and walks away along the sand, back towards Tanglewood, and she doesn’t look back.



I set up a table in the foyer of Exmoor Park Middle School, cover it with a red-and-white checked cloth and drape my hand-painted banner, S AVE THE G IANT P ANDA , across the front of it. Then I set out the plates and arrange my home-baked cupcakes, which I have iced with little black-and-white panda faces. Who could resist?
    ‘They look better than the whale ones you made last time,’ my friend Sarah comments. ‘These ones are actually quite cute. What are