What website? No, but I feel terrible about the comment I posted on your blog. It’s been so horrible at home, I wasn’t thinking straight. PS: I’VE RUN AWAY, AS IN RUN AWAY FROM HOME!!
Elliot didn’t do it. He didn’t leak the story. I feel overcome with relief that he didn’t, and guilt that I ever thought he could.
What do you mean you’ve run away? Where are you?
On the pier
You’ve run away to the pier?!!
No!!! I’ve run away and I happen to currently be at the pier. I need to see you xxx
I start walking down the road away from school, texting as I go.
I need to see you too! xxx
Can you come and meet me? Please? I’ll even play that stupid 2p game . . .
On my way
Chapter Forty-Two
As soon as I see Elliot leaning against the 2p game in the arcades, I know there’s something seriously wrong. He’s wearing an enormous burgundy Puffa jacket, a huge pair of green wellies, and a Russian-style fake fur hat, and for once he has not managed to make a weird combo look cool.
“What’s happened?” we both say at exactly the same time.
“Jinx!” we both say at exactly the same time. We look at each other for a second before we burst out laughing. Then Elliot hugs me as the laughter quickly turns to tears.
“I can’t breathe,” I splutter, trying to remove my face from the humongous Puffa jacket.
“Sorry. Sorry.” Elliot takes a step back. “Oh, Pen, I’m so sorry.”
“What for?” I say, a last trace of suspicion flickering in my mind.
“For that stupid comment I made on your new year’s resolution post. I’ve been such an idiot, but so much has been going on at home I need to explain.”
I look at him. “Have you really run away?”
Elliot nods gravely. “?’Fraid so. As of tonight, I am a man on the street, a man of no fixed abode, one of our nation’s lost souls.”
“But it’s the middle of winter. You’re going to freeze.”
“Why do you think I’m wearing this getup?” Elliot gestures at his bizarre outfit. “I’m not dressing like a chavvy Russian fisherman for fun, you know. I’m trying to avoid hypothermia!”
“But why are you running away?”
“My dad’s said he’ll disown me if I ever get a boyfriend.” Elliot turns and stares into the 2p machine. The flashing lights cast patterns on his face.
“What?” I stare at him, horrified.
Elliot looks back at me. His eyes are glistening with tears. “He said that there’s no way I can keep on living under his roof if I ever became”—Elliot mimes a pair of speech-marks—“?‘a practicing homosexual.’ And then yesterday morning the whole thing escalated and he took away my laptop and phone.”
“What? But why?”
“Because he’d gotten it into his head that I’d met someone while I was in America and he didn’t want me contacting them.”
“But why did he think that?”
“Remember my campaign to ruin my parents’ Christmas?”
I nod. “Hank the Hell’s Angel?”
“Yep. You could say it backfired slightly.”
“Oh no.”
“I said to my dad, ‘You can’t take away a teenager’s online access; it’s like taking away their right to breathe.’?”
“What did he say to that?”
“He’s a lawyer. He just quoted a load of laws at me until I lost the will to live. I think that’s when you turned up at the door.” He frowns at me. “Why didn’t you knock on the wall? And why did you send me such a stroppy text? Was it the comment on the blog? It was, wasn’t it? I’m so sorry. I’ve been so jealous and it’s been horrible.”
I stare at him. “What do you mean? Jealous of what?”
“Of Noah. And of you.” Elliot looks away, embarrassed.
“Why are you jealous of me?”
“Because it’s so easy for you. You meet someone you like and your parents are fine with it. They’re like, ‘Hey, let’s go and spend Christmas with him!’ You can fall in love and live happily ever after just like Cinderella. But if I ever meet my Prince Charming I’m going to be disowned.”
“Oh, Elliot.” I hug him to me, my eyes filling with tears. The whole time we were away it never occurred to me that Elliot might be feeling like this, and how difficult it must be for him.
“And I hate myself for taking it out on you,” Elliot sobs into my shoulder. “You’re my best friend. My only true friend, and I wasn’t able to just be happy for you. But I was so scared, Pen. I’m so scared of losing you to him.”
I can’t help a sarcastic laugh when he says this.
Elliot frowns at me. “What?”
“There’s no danger of that happening.”
“Why not?” Elliot wipes the tears from his eyes and studies my face.
I sigh. “I take it you haven’t seen what’s happened?”
“Seen what?”
“Online?”
“No. I told you, I only just got my stuff back. I broke into Dad’s study while he was at work and stole them back.”
“It turns out that Noah is a musician.”
Elliot looks at me blankly.
“A famous musician. Well, famous in America anyway and—” I break off, barely able to bring myself to say it. “And he’s in a relationship with Leah Brown.”
Elliot’s mouth drops open. “What? Leah Brown, as in the chart-topper Leah Brown?”
I nod.
“Leah Brown, as in singer of the bestselling ‘Do You Wanna Taste My Candy?’ Leah Brown?”
I nod again, my eyes filling with tears.
“But that’s insane!” Elliot stares at me and I notice that there isn’t a trace of pleasure on his face, only shock and horror, and once again I feel terrible for doubting him. “Oh, Pen. Oh my God. But how—how did he manage to keep that from you?”
So I tell him all about the little clues that were there all along but I just didn’t notice. The girl by the vintage store, the overheard snippet of conversation with Sadie Lee, the fact that Noah barely went anywhere with me in public.