Free Brave New Girl by Catherine Johnson Page B

near the door, and be so completely wound up in talking to each other that they wouldn’t notice me.
    What if they did? I took a deep breath. What was the worst that could happen? People laughing at me, saying horrible things? Couldn’t I take it? I’d taken it all day. I felt my skin prickle with heat just at the thought. What if they said something to Denny? Or Arthur?
    There were only two more stops now.
    I opened Arthur’s robot colouring book. “Look at that one!” I said.
    Arthur gave me his
you are a slug-brain idiot
look.
    I could feel Jamie Kendrick trying to make his way through the shoppers to the back of the bus where I was sitting with the boys. I knew it without looking up, from the
excuse mes
and the
sorrys
and the
watch where you’re putting your size 12s!
    I stuffed Arthur’s book back in my bag. “We are getting off now!” It came out like a snarl and I must have sounded so fierce even Denny didn’t argue.
    I pressed the bell and we slid out of the door and down into the street.
    Arthur looked back at the bus as it sped off. “Seren?” he said.
    â€œHmm?” I was already walking towards home.
    â€œI think that boy, the giant one, is waving at you.”
    I didn’t look round.

    The house was empty. Mum wouldn’t be back for an hour and who knew where Sasha was.
    I made the fishcakes. Well, I took them out of the packet and cooked them. I forced Denny to cut upcarrots without using the knife on Arthur, and I made Arthur wash some lettuce, otherwise the boys (and me) would never get close to their five a day.
    I realised I was starting to think more Mumlike than my actual mum and after tea I went upstairs and turned on the laptop, hoping that the internet would wash over me and make me think like a thirteen-year-old girl with mates again.
    I wasn’t a friend of Christina’s online any more but if I logged in as Sasha I could see her page. I knew it wasn’t healthy, I knew it would just make me more miserable, but I had this big need to roll around in my bad feelings and feel even sorrier for myself than I did already.
    I hadn’t meant to look at Sasha’s page. And Keith was sending me a billion messages that made the computer ping like a hyperactive microwave. But I saw it straight away. A picture of me in a heap on the floor of the costume cupboard.
    I suppose I ought to thank my lucky stars or maybe my lucky Turkish magic eye that it wasn’t a movie, that you couldn’t see me shaking or hear the snuffling noises it looked like I was making. I looked totally fishfaced, open-mouthed, red, baggy eyes, ridiculous in a mixture of school uniform and silver sparkles.Like a broken, spangly puppet.
    I felt my heart speed up so fast I thought it would burst. I clicked the page shut immediately.
    The messages were pinging into my inbox so noisily they could have been music.
    I decided to call Keith.
    The first thing he said was, “So you saw it?”
    â€œDid you?”
    â€œIt’s on Christina’s page.”
    â€œOh no! Hers as well? How come you’re her friend?”
    â€œShe likes to keep her numbers up, I guess.”
    I clicked the page up again.
    â€œYou’re looking at it now, aren’t you?” Keith said. “Don’t be daft!”
    â€œI can’t help it. I look so gross.”
    â€œForget it, Seren.”
    â€œForget it?” I was almost yelling. “It’s everywhere!”
    â€œYou need to think about something else.” I heard Keith sigh. “This call will cost you way too much. Message me, no, better still, is Sasha there?”
    â€œShe’s never here.”
    â€œI’m coming round.”
    I kept Sasha’s page up and clicked through to Christina’s. Underneath was a long trail of commentsfrom her and Shaz and Ruby and loads of people I had never even heard of. The comments grew as I watched. Christina had commented first:
    This is a