hands, and Elliot leans his head on Alexâs shoulder. Theyâre just way too adorable and I donât want to intrude. But Elliot must hear me because he looks over his shoulder at me. His jaw drops. âYouâre killing it, Ocean Strong!â
âWhy, thanks,â I say, doing a little curtsey.
âAll right, kidsâletâs blow this popsicle stand,â says Elliot in a low drawl.
Both Alex and I look at him, frowning.
âWhat, donât you like my new Americanisms? I thought Iâd practise before seeing Noah again. Now, accessories.â He pushes a handful of bangles onto my wrist and puts a long, dangling necklace round my neck. He smiles at me. âYou just need your Converse, and then youâre ready.â
I look in the full-length mirror.
âYou look great, Pen. That outfit is perfect,â says Elliot. âLeah Brown, you may be the hottest pop star on the planet but youâve got nothing on my girl.â
I allow myself to smile, and tell myself I look good. And I do. I feel confident. But I still pick up a jacket to go over top. Elliot grimaces.
âWhat?â I say. âIt might be cold in the restaurant.â
âSpeaking of, we better get a move on!â Elliot looks down at his watch.
âTom!â I yell down the stairs to my brother. âWill you drive us?â
I hear a grunt in response that Iâm going to take as a âyes.â
But, when we get outside, Alex doesnât join us in the car. He shoves his hands in his pockets. âSorry, guys, I have to head home to do something first. Iâll meet you at the concert, OK?â
Elliotâs happy mood deflates, his shoulders slumping.
âAre you sure?â I say. âI know it must be really boring to have to hang out with a bunch of Year Elevens but most of them are all right.â
âItâs not that,â he says. âI just have stuff to do.â
âOh, OK.â
He leans over and gives Elliot a quick kiss, but Elliotâs heart isnât in it. Then, once Alex is gone, he shrugs his shoulders and is instantly back to his normal self. âLetâs go!â
â¢Â  â¢Â  â¢
A few minutes later, we pull up in front of GBK, courtesy of chauffeur Tom. Elliot jumps out of the car, but just as Iâm about to follow him Tom reaches over and grabs my arm. âIf you get into trouble, or need any help, call me straightaway, got it, Pen-pen?â
I pull him into a hug, which he accepts with stiff shoulders. But I know he loves me really.
On a Friday night, Brighton is packed with commuters returning from work in London and revellers heading for a night out. Thereâs a boy who looks younger than me playing guitar on the pavement. He sings softly, but he has an amazing voice. No one else stops to lookânot even Elliot, who is so wrapped up in his own world he could walk past theLondon Symphony Orchestra and not noticeâbut I find myself lingering. Iâm rooted to the spot by the boyâs beautiful music.
âMay I take a picture?â I ask him when he strums a final chord.
âSure,â he says. I snap a few shots, and then take a pound out of my purse and put it in his guitar case. He grins gratefully at me and I make a dash for the restaurant as the heavens open and it starts to pour with rain. Typical British summer.
Inside, everyone is waiting. Elliot rushes up to me and pulls me to a stop. âDonât freak out,â he says.
âWhat do you mean?â I frown. But then he steps to one side.
Megan is standing behind him.
And sheâs wearing the exact same dress as me.
Chapter Three
I wrap my jacket even tighter round my body, covering my dress. Megan smiles serenely, looking surprisingly cool about it, but thatâs probably because Iâve already turned tomato red with embarrassment. I almost turn round and walk out of the restaurant right there and then, but Elliot