"You look upset."

"I'm not upset," I responded, hoping the darkness wouldn't give away my red, blotchy face.

"Will you come out here and talk about it?"

"I like it in here."

Dad paused for a moment and then crouched down and crawled into the closet and shut the door so we were in complete darkness.

"Dad, what are you doing?"

"I thought you might find it easier to talk to me in here."

"You must be busy. You've got that gas chapter."

"It can wait. You want to talk about it? You don't have to. We can sit in here in silence for a bit, and then I could order you Chinese food for when you're ready to come out?" I heard him shuffle as he got comfortable. I felt big in the closet, so it can't have been very comfortable for him.

"I haven't been very nice."

"Well, that can't be right."

"I haven't. Marianne offered me tickets to a show, so I invited Jess to come with me. But then there's this guy . . ."

Dad waited a moment and then spoke when it was clear I was faltering. "Go on."

"Dad. You can't be weird."

"I'm not being weird."

"You're always being weird."

"You're always being weird."

"And whose fault is that?" I argued. "Fine. You can't be weird when I talk about boys."

He sighed. "Okay, I promise I won't be weird when we talk about boys."

I eyed him up suspiciously in spite of not really being able to see him, but I did it for effect anyway and then took a deep breath. "There's this boy who I think likes me. He happens to be the most perfect, amazing, popular boy in school. And he likes me. I think he does anyway." I paused, trying to work out how to put it in a way that old people might understand.

"Go on," Dad encouraged.

"Well I want him to invite me to the dance next week. Because then I would be popular and normal too. And everyone would be happy. So I invited him to the show."

"The same show you invited Jess to?"

"Yes. So then I had to tell her I didn't have tickets anymore. Because I didn't want to hurt her by telling her I'd invited Brendan instead. She looked so sad when I said we couldn't go anymore."

I paused again. My dad cleared his throat. "All right, go on."

"I've told Brendan not to brag about it. I don't want Jess finding out. But she was so nice about it and I was lying to her. It was horrible."

"I see." Dad waited patiently for more. I didn't say anything. "Anna. Considering we're sitting in a closet, I'm going to guess that taking Brendan to the show isn't actually what you want to do."

I sighed. "I don't know. I think somehow I might actually have a chance with Brendan. If I don't invite him to the show, he might not invite me to the dance."

"If Brendan really likes you," Dad said gently, reaching out for my foot, which he grabbed and shook, "he will ask you to the dance whether you take him or Jess to the show. Don't you think?"

"Um . . ."

"Anna. Boys don't just like girls because they invite them to things. You promised these tickets to Jess. Brendan will understand."

"You're right. What do I do?"

"Simple. Tell Brendan you promised the ticket to Jess first. That you'll take him to the next one. He might be disappointed, but Jess has been a very good friend to you. Especially during the chaos of my engagement." He chuckled. "I haven't heard of Brendan until recently. Or that other boy you keep mentioning, Conway or something."

"I'm not sure he's my biggest fan either."

"You'll sort it out just by talking to them. And if you can't, then you can always invite them along to something fun like an air show. Oh, there's a great talk coming up actually, given by an expert in land mines. I can always try to rustle up some tickets . . . they'll love that!"

"I'll talk to them I think, thanks, Dad," I said hurriedly. "We can leave the closet now."

"Excellent news. Glad I could help. I'm getting a leg cramp."

After we had crawled out of the closet and Dad had awkwardly pulled me in for a big hug, which Dog had then tried to gate-crash, I decided to take Dog for a walk in the hope of finding Brendan playing soccer in the park so I could explain to him that I would be taking Jess to On the Rox.

Instead of Brendan and the boys, I spotted Josie with a couple of the girls from our class, Debbie and Scarlet, with their backs toward me, sitting cross-legged on one of the benches, reading magazines. It was strange to see Josie without Sophie, but I figured that Sophie was probably at a sports practice and Josie had to make do with others until her return.

I made my way toward them to say hi, dragging Dog with me, who was growling at a squirrel nearby. As I got closer, I overheard them talking and slowed when I heard my name.

"Oh my goodness, look at Anna here." Josie was sniggering, pointing at a page. "This should be in the worst-dressed column surely. They must have made a mistake. She needs a stylist."

"Well, it's not like she has the best guidance." Debbie raised her eyebrows. "Marianne Montaine is usually a fashion disaster. I would die of embarrassment if I had to be associated with someone like her."

"Hello? She has to be associated with Anna. Hardly a dream come true for a celebrity. At least she's figured out her hair. It's something." Josie sighed. "It's embarrassing though that she thinks that she's . . . I don't know . . ."

"Important?" Scarlet suggested.

"No, not that. Until this whole It Girl thing happened, she was a loser. You can't just change overnight. The only thing that's different is her dad's marital status," she snorted.

"Brendan likes her," Debbie pointed out, flicking the page of the magazine.

"Not really," Josie scoffed. "He puts up with her probably. He wouldn't actually think of hanging out with her for real. Like one on one."

"I heard that he might ask her out. Maybe to the Beatus dance," Debbie said authoritatively.

"Who told you that?" Josie laughed. "Don't be silly. I'm sure that Brendan thinks the same as I do. Anna is a loser. And once a loser, always a loser." Josie smugly took the magazine from Debbie and flicked to the fashion page.

I felt tears of hurt and anger running down my cheeks as they giggled together. Dog started a low growl and I ran with him on the leash, praying that they didn't see me.

As I came around the corner to our house, Danny appeared. "Hey, Anna, I was just at your house. Your dad said you were out for a walk. I wanted to return all those DVDs you lent me. They were great-I was just discussing them with your dad." He noticed my face as I looked up at him. "Hey, what's wrong? Have you been crying?"

"No," I said, determinedly wiping my cheeks.

"Look, if this is about Jess," he said, looking confused, "she's not mad at you, Anna. It's not your fault that you don't have the tickets anymore."

"Danny." I was exhausted. "Everyone thinks I'm the biggest loser in the world. I have to prove to them I'm not."

"What? I don't think you're the biggest loser in the world." He frowned. "I think you're very cool."

"You think I'm cool?"

"Yeah! I mean, not in the same way Sophie Parker is." He rolled his eyes. "I know you really like her but she's fake. You're cool in a different way. You're interesting and funny. You're really odd." I smiled and he continued. "Odd in a good way though. I think it's cool that you know loads about movies that I haven't heard of. And you read cool books and stuff. Plus you're really nice." He shrugged. "Yeah, I think you're cool."

"Thanks, Danny."

That night, I lay in my dog pajamas and wondered whether everyone else at school except Jess and Danny felt the same way Josie did. Had they all been laughing at me, all along? Poor Anna, they must have been saying all this time, thinking she's popular when she's not. How mortifying that they had all been making fun of me when I wasn't there, maybe even making fun of me to my face without me realizing.

I grew hot with anger and threw my covers off. I had to prove everyone wrong. If Brendan went to the show with me, then he would definitely ask me to the dance after that. Then they wouldn't think I was a loser anymore.

Jess would understand. She would probably encourage me to take Brendan. I was embarrassed that I had drawn attention to her and Danny yet again. Josie and her friends must have been laughing at them behind their backs too. I wasn't going to let that continue.

From: dantheman@zingmail.co.uk To: anna_huntley@zingmail.co.uk Subject: Today Hi, Anna, Just wanted to check that you were definitely okay today? I hope you know that you can talk to me and Jess anytime you need. You seemed very quiet when we walked back to your house.

I thought of another reason why you're not a loser: you don't pretend to be someone you're not.

That's really cool.

Don't tell anyone I said something like that-it's pretty embarrassing and won't do anything for my street cred. Not that I have street cred. But just in case I do.

All right. Bye.

Danny

EIGHT THINGS THAT I HAVE been very wrong about: 1. You could only be a princess if you had long hair.

2. Pepto-Bismol would taste just like a strawberry milkshake.

3. Buying black corduroy bell-bottoms was a good idea.

4. If Dog loved dog biscuits so much, they couldn't taste so bad.

5. I could read a map. In France. When Dad was driving.

6. That becoming a Jedi was a viable option.

7. Andy Murray's level of emotion. The 2012 Wimbledon final loss to Federer was a game changer.

8. Wanting Brendan Dakers to take me to the Beatus dance.

I should have known the moment we showed up at the show. Marianne had given us strict instructions to meet her by the stage door around the back of the building as there was no way she was going in the normal entrance. "The press will know I'm going," she had said, sighing on the phone to me the night before. "They won't leave me alone."

So I had agreed to meet Brendan at eight o'clock at the venue and, when he arrived, I directed him to the back of the building. As we stood there waiting for someone to tell us what to do, Brendan started going on about how excited he was to be there. "I bet there's going to be some cool people inside."

"Maybe," I said, pulling nervously at the leather jacket he had said looked nice on me at Sophie's party.

"I haven't met many famous people."

"Your mom must be around famous people all the time. Supermodels on fashion shoots, actors she's photographing?"

"Yeah but I never get to meet them." He kicked a pebble that went skittering across the road. "She never lets me come to photo shoots."

"Oh right."

He kicked another pebble.

"I feel like I probably should have listened to On the Rox a lot more before tonight," I joked.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I won't know many words. I'm more of a movie person than a music person I think."

"Oh right." He smiled at me. "That's cool."

"You like movies?"

"Yeah, movies are cool."

"I like superhero movies."

How was it that I was getting WORSE at talking to boys?

"Yeah. The Wolverine thermal underwear, right?"

KILL ME NOW.

"Ha, yeah. Right."

Thankfully, we were both rescued from the most awkward conversation of all time because the stage door opened, and a large man with a bald head and an earpiece ushered us in.