Free Soap Star by Rowan Coleman

thought a moment longer.
    “We could practise on the back of each other’s hands?” she suggested mischievously. I picked up one of her pillows and threw it at her.
    “Nydia! Don’t be so disgusting!” She laughed and flopped back against her many pink and lilac pillows.
    “I know, what about when you have a rehearsal? It doesn’t matter if you’re crap in the rehearsals, does it? After all, that’s what they’re for,” she said. “You can rehearse your kiss, and by the time you come to shoot it for real you’ll be a pro.”
    I shook my head and sighed with exasperation.
    “First of all, we never actually rehearse things like kisses; we leave them until filming so they look all spontaneous and fresh. Second of all, I have to be brilliant the very first time I kiss him, not after a hundred takes. He’s not going to realise that he’s really been in love with me all this time if I kiss like a cross between a vacuum cleaner and a turbot!” Nydia laughed so much she nearly fell off the bed.
    “You’ve never kissed anyone, apparently,” she said once she got her breath back, “so how would you know what you kiss like ?”
    “It’s a wild guess,” I told her. She was still laughing. “Nydia, pull yourself together and think of something! I really need your help here!” Finally, after several deep breaths, she calmed down and picked up her latest copy of Elle Girl for inspiration.
    “I know! How about we…write in to the problem page here and ask them. I’ll get some paper,” she said, and before I could comment she had leaped off the bed and begun rummaging around under the mess that was her desk. I considered banging my head against her bedroom wall.
    “Nydia! I haven’t got time to write in to a problem page, and anyway, what with all the letters I get, my lifepractically is a problem page. I might as well write to myself.” Nydia stopped, mid-rummage, and looked at me.
    “There you go, that’s a plan. Let’s write to you and see what you say.” She was still giggling: for some reason she wasn’t taking me completely seriously. I buried my head in my hands and closed my eyes.
    “Nydia! I can’t answer my own problems! If I could, I wouldn’t be here in the first place having a panic attack about the most important moment of my life!” Nydia sat back down on the bed and thought for a long moment. At least she’d stopped all the hysteria at my expense.
    “We need help,” she said finally.
    “I know, but I can’t afford counselling,” I said with a squeaky laugh. Nydia didn’t laugh. She leaned her head in her hands.
    “No, I mean we need someone who really knows what they’re talking about to help us. We need an expert consultant to teach you to kiss.” I uncovered my face a little bit and looked at her. She was either a complete loony or a genius – I just wasn’t sure which.
    “An expert?” I asked her tentatively. “What are you talking about?”
    Nydia shrugged.
    “Well, it’s obvious when you think about it. We know totally nothing, so we need someone who knows totallyeverything – or nearly everything. We need someone who, say, scored about fifty per cent on the innocence test?” My hands fell away from my face, my jaw dropped and I shook my head in horror. She was officially a complete loony.
    “Oh, no!” I spluttered. “No way. No way! We are not asking Anne-Marie Chance to tell me how to kiss Justin.” It took me a moment to let the full horror of what she was suggesting sink in. “Nydia! She’ll laugh her head off and then tell the whole school. You might be able to handle the daily ritual humiliation, but I can’t. I would truly die of embarrassment. They’d be able to make a documentary about me and put me on National Geographic. ‘People who die of ridicule: a case study’.”
    Nydia pursed her lips and crossed her arms like she does when she thinks I’m being too dismissive of her ideas.
    “Ah, but we’d make it so she wouldn’t be able to tell