I look at them suspiciously. They’re all acting really weird.
Tarquin just grunts at me, stuffing a sandwich into his mouth. At least he’s being the same idiot as always.
“So, are you going to come to Donatella this weekend, Charlotte?” asks Flossie.
India looks at her weirdly.
“Oh, I’m invited this time? Thanks.”
They seem to shift in their seats. Finally, Georgie speaks. “Sorry about that.”
“Can’t we all be big boys and girls?” says Flossie. “I’m sick of everybody tiptoeing around the elephant in the room. Libby and Edward are throwing a joint birthday party next month, Charlotte. We just got a text that we’re invited.”
“You mean, you’re all invited.”
“Well, yeah. Exactly.”
“So that’s why you’re all being weird?”
Georgie looks miserable. “We didn’t want you to feel left out. We feel awful about the Donatella thing. You told India you were doing homework that night, and it just kind of . . . happened.”
I shrug. “Whatever. I’m getting used to it.” I take a bite of my pasta. “So, where is this big shindig? Don’t tell me you’re throwing it for them and not inviting me, Floss.”
She shakes her head. “Of course not.”
Tarquin pipes up. “They’re throwing a big bash at Windsor Castle. It’s going to be epic.”
Now this is a low blow.
I’ve been fascinated by Windsor Castle since I was a kid. It was the one place I always fantasized about having a behind-the-scenes tour. And not only am I not invited, but all my friends are going without me—to celebrate Libby and Edward.
I’d almost start crying if the entire thing wasn’t so ludicrous. Fun joke, universe. You win.
“Why am I not surprised? Enjoy.”
India looks nervous. “You’re okay with it?”
“What else can I do but laugh?” I say, my mood dark.
After finishing lunch, we girls walk back to Colvin.
“Ugh,” says Flossie.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Her eyes dart behind me.
I turn around to see what she’s talking about. In the car park across from the student center, a driver is loading Libby’s and Edward’s bags into the boot of a Mercedes sedan. They’re standing hand in hand, and then Edward helps Libby into the car, the driver closing the door behind the two of them.
I’ve taken to studying in the library. Colvin’s unofficial open-door policy means that I feel exposed at all times. When my friends pop in, I’ve started to feel on edge. I know it’s probably not fair, but I’ve started associating them with all the drama—even India.
On the rare occasions when Libby walks by my door, glancing in and then looking away, it only makes me feel sad.
I have a massive midterm assignment due Monday for my graphic design class, and I’m only halfway done. Instead of buckling down and focusing, however, I can’t stop watching YouTube beauty tutorials. My favorite, Kyla Buzz, is an American girl from Texas who talks as slow as molasses and has a dreamy-techno soundtrack playing while she applies her makeup. I heard she gets millions in advertising, so she’s started doing travel videos, putting on makeup in cool foreign destinations like the Great Wall of China, on safari in South Africa, and the top of the Eiffel Tower. To be honest, she slightly irritates me, and yet I can’t stop watching her videos. They’re mesmerizing.
Part of me feels grumpy at times that I didn’t hop on the YouTube tutorials train a few years ago like Libby kept suggesting—I can do makeup way better than half these girls—but whatever. That ship has sailed, and now it’s too late to make my mark in the space.
“Hey, you.”
I look up to see Robert. “Hi!” I say, taking off my headphones.
He leans against my cubicle, gesturing to my computer screen and grinning. “Hard at work?” On screen, Kyla is now applying her mascara on a dragon boat in Hong Kong, with the harbor lights and skyscrapers behind her.
I flush. “I’m super busy, actually. Just taking a homework break.”
He smiles. “I’m only teasing. You should see how much time I waste when I have an English paper due. Suddenly, I find myself on Wikipedia needing to know what’s the national dish of Jamaica, or why Bonnie Prince Charlie’s rebellion failed.”
“I can answer that one!” I say, clicking out of YouTube. My graphic design project is now the only thing left on the screen.
“That’s right—I forgot you were a history buff.” He looks back at my computer. “Wireframes?”
“Yeah, I’m taking a graphic design course. Last term was learning how to code, and this term is all about apps and mobile design.”
“A whiz at history, a pro at coding—is there anything you can’t do?” he says, looking impressed. “I wish I knew how to code, but I hate maths.”
I sit up a little straighter, feeling proud. “I mean, it is difficult, but you’d be surprised—there isn’t a lot of maths in coding.”
“No?”
“It’s more like being diligent. It’s a lot of checking your work. I shouldn’t like it, but I do. It’s cool when you’re done and you’ve actually created something.”
He pulls a chair out, sitting down next to me. “So what’s this? You made it?”
“Yeah,” I say, clicking around the screen to show him details. “It’s kind of like Instagram, but for beauty.”
“That sounds like a million-pound idea.”
“Ha! I wish.”
“Tell me more.”
I pull out my phone, showing him Viewty. “Well, I’m obsessed with this app, which kind of does the same thing. Girls upload their makeup photos, hair photos, stuff like that. But the search functionality is terrible.”
“It’s hard to search?”
“Yeah. And they need more categories—they just have like hair and makeup and skincare, but it should go by brand and by style inspiration, too. Sometimes I want to do a mod sixties look. Sometimes I want to see cool steampunk nail art. There are so many good beauty looks people have uploaded on here, but it’s impossible to find them. You have to spend like minutes scrolling and scrolling and scrolling.”
“Interesting.”
“And this one,” I say, opening a home-decorating app. “I love it for DIY bedroom inspiration, but I have to scroll through all the boring stuff for old people’s sitting rooms and back gardens—stuff I don’t care about. I want to see bedrooms girls my age have done.”
His eyes light up. “Okay. Tell me more.”
“I want an app that’s like a cross between these two—like a DIY Instagram. So not just people uploading their crafts, but also their beauty tutorials, their style hacks, stuff they’ve made for their bedrooms. And I think just for teenage girls. I don’t care about a lot of the home improvement stuff I see on there, or the furniture renovation stuff, and I seriously don’t care about nursery decorations and baby showers and wedding decor, which is like all over Pinterest. I just want stuff for beauty and fashion and maybe my bedroom. I think a lot of other girls would, too.”
“So that’s what this is?”