Candy Girl Read online

  “Two,” he says as he checks out how he looks in the mirror.

  I can’t stop staring at him and I nearly trip over Miranda as I back out of the dressing room.

  “I thought there was just going to be a girl model!” I whisper to her.

  “Polly the Editor wants a cute, romantic cover for the next issue of Candy,” Miranda says. “So Amy booked a girl and a boy. But if the girl doesn’t turn up soon, maybe they’ll have to get you to stand in for her!”

  I’m glad she didn’t tell me that when I was carrying a tray of coffee and tea. It would’ve spilled all over the floor by now, ’cause I’ve gone so weak thinking about snuggling up to Connor!

  “OK, panic over – here she is now,” Miranda says, as a tall, pretty girl comes hurrying in, carrying a bottle of water and telling us all how she got stuck in traffic.

  Before the model gets a chance to breath, Amy the Fashion Editor walks her to the dressing room, where three things are waiting for her:

  1) some great clothes to wear

  2) a make-up artist to make her even more lovely, and …

  3) Connor, of course!

  Lucky her.

  Still, I’m feeling pretty lucky myself today.

  After two days of feeling that my internship isn’t that great, this is much more exciting, and just how I thought how life at a magazine would be.

  The only thing that would be more of a thrill is if I could meet Sharron Ford at last …

  “So are you looking forward to the Candy Fun Day on Friday?” Miranda says with a grin, as she helps me by getting some cups out of a cupboard.

  I’m so surprised the water goes all over my hand instead of into the coffee maker.

  “You mean, I get to go to that too?” I squeak (as normal).

  Today can’t really get much better for me!

  But it suddenly sounds as if it’s not going very well for someone else …

  I spin around to see Connor and the girl model having a full-on, stand-up yelling match.

  And – ooof! – the girl has just poured her bottle of water over his head!

  Well, it doesn’t look like they’re in the mood to cuddle up for a romantic photoshoot …

  Chapter 7

  Spilling the Gossip

  I tell Mom and Dad and Ella all about what happened at the photo shoot when I get home. “It turns out,” I say, “that Connor and the girl model used to be boyfriend and girlfriend. They only split up last week.”

  I know Tess is listening too, but she’s pretending to read one of her textbooks.

  “Uh-oh!” says Ella, who’s come around to hear all today’s gossip.

  “Wonder what the boy did to annoy her?” laughs Dad.

  “Oh, dear – didn’t they know they’d both been booked for the same magazine photoshoot?” Mom asks.

  “I guess not …” I reply. I remember Connor and the girl’s pretend smiles when the photographer started snapping at last.

  Oh, yes – the models had to do their job in the end.

  But it took ages for the Fashion Editor to cool everyone down.

  Then Connor had to change out of his wet clothes and get his floppy hair blow-dried.

  And the make-up artist had a very tricky job to make the girl model look like she hadn’t been sobbing her eyes out.

  “Check this,” I say and I take one of the photographer’s left over photos from my pocket.

  Mom, Dad and Ella bunch together right away to gawp at the photo.

  (Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Tess twitch – I know she’s dying to peek but she’s too stubborn to show she’s interested.)

  “Ooh!” Mom says. “That poor girl’s eyes are so red that it looks like she’s had a bucket of sand kicked in them!

  “And I think I’d call that snarling more than smiling!” Dad jokes.

  As my parents and Ella study the picture, I remember my good news.

  “Hey, guess what? I got told that I can go to the Candy Fun Day on Friday, AND I can bring a friend!”

  “You mean … me?” says Ella, in a voice as squeaky as mine has been all week.

  “Of course, you!” I giggle. I spot Tess shutting her textbook and stomping away.

  Why does she always have to go and spoil my good news by being a total grump?

  Chapter 8

  A Not-so-nice Surprise

  Oh.

  It’s Thursday morning, and I’ve just walked into the Candy office but there’s a woman sitting at my desk.

  She has grey streaks in her hair and she’s eating a donut.

  I shouldn’t be mean, but she looks like she eats a lot of donuts.

  “Um, hello,” I say shyly. “That’s where, I’ve, um, been sitting the last few days …”

  “Are you Claire? Or Vicky?” says the woman and sugar sprinkles and crumbs drop all over the neat pile of problem page letters I’ve been sorting.

  “My name’s Dixie,” I answer her. What’s she getting at? I ask myself.

  “Well, I always mix up all you interns,” the woman says. “So I see you’ve chosen something for my page …”

  As the woman reads the three letters on the desk that I pulled out of the mail bag early in the week, I gasp, “Are … are you Sharron Ford?”

  “Uh-huh!” answers the woman, not looking at me. “Now can you put them onto the computer, and write answers for them? About fifty words for each will do.”

  “Huh? But I – I don’t know if … I – I mean –” I start to splutter.

  “Do what you can. I’ll read them and fix them up afterwards.”

  With that, Sharron Ford gets up and goes towards Polly the Editor’s office with her donut.

  Help! I don’t know what to do – except do as I’m told, I guess ...

  With shaking hands, I pick up a letter.

  It’s the one about being stressed.

  It says:

  ‘Dear Sharron –

  My parents expect me to do really well in school, but I’m not as smart as they think I am and it’s getting really hard. I work so hard, I never get to have a good time any more. I feel so down – what can I do?

  Candy Girl’

  But I don’t have a clue what to say, because I’m still too stunned, AND because I’m only thirteen and not a problem page expert!

  “What’s up?” I hear Miranda ask.

  She sits on the edge of my desk, and looks at me.

  “I just met Sharron Ford,” I say. It’s like I’ve just seen a ghost.

  “Oh, yeah?” smirks Miranda. “And what do you think?”

  “Well, she doesn’t look much like her photo!” I blurt out. The Sharron Ford in the photo on her problem page is a slim, blonde young woman with a great big smile.

  “I guess she did look like that once, only it must have been years ago,” says Miranda, with a grin.

  I don’t have time to think about how Sharron fools Candy readers with her out-ofdate photo, ’cause I need to tell Miranda something else.

  “And she’s asked me to write answers to the problems she’s been sent!”

  “Oh, yeah – she always does that,” says Miranda with a shrug. “If there isn’t an intern like you around, she expects me to write it.”

  “But it’s her job! Why doesn’t she answer girls’ letters herself?” I ask.

  “Um, because she’s really lazy?” hints Miranda.

  And right then, I know that Miranda doesn’t think that much of Sharron Ford.

  Now I remember how she pulled a face at the start of the week, when she told me that Sharron had phoned in sick.

  “Maybe I should write a letter to the problem page,” Miranda suddenly says with a laugh. “‘Dear Sharron, I work with someone who is lazy and expects everyone else to do her work for her!’ How would that be? Ha ha ha!”

  As Miranda walks away, I think of the things that I didn’t expect at Candy …

  1) the staff who treat me as if they can’t see me, like I’m invisible

  2) the fact
that I’m the coffee slave

  3) getting to see that Polly Cheer the Editor is mostly grumpy

  4) and that Sharron Ford isn’t the warm, you-can-tell-me-anything big sister sort of person I thought she’d be.

  Well, hooray for the Candy Fun Day tomorrow – at least that’ll be amazing, especially since I’ll have Ella to hang out with.

  I can’t wait!

  Chapter 9

  Ella’s No-show

  “Hello, Dixie! Did you get Ella’s message?” asks Mom, as soon as I’m back home.

  “Uh, no,” I reply and plonk my bag on the kitchen table to look for my cell phone.

  As soon as I take it out, I see it has no battery.

  Ella did try to call you,” Dad says. “It turns out, she can’t come with you to the Fun Day thing.”

  “Yeah, right!” I laugh back at him. I can always spot one of his wind-ups a mile off.

  There’s no way Ella would miss the Candy magazine party, OR miss the chance to gawp at a celebrity like Zack McCloud.

  “He’s not joking,” Tess butts in. She looks up from the table where her textbooks are all around her – as ever. “I took her call.”

  “It’s ’cause of The Lion King,” says Dad. He’s trying to tell me why, but I’m getting even more puzzled.

  “Ella forgot that her aunt is coming to take her to see The Lion King at the theater tomorrow,” Mom joins in. I’m beginning to get it now.

  I feel a sudden rush of total let down.

  “But – but couldn’t they swap the tickets for a different day?” I suggest in a panic, looking from Mom to Dad as if they could change things.

  I don’t look at Tess, ’cause I have the feeling she might just be smirking.

  “Well, no, Dixie,” says Mum. “Ella said that her aunt has taken time off work specially.”

  “How about one of your other friends?” Dad asks.

  I’m about to tell him that they’re all away on vacation, but stop – because I suddenly realize I’m going to cry.

  I bet my grumpy, no-fun sister will be pleased to see me as sad as her, but I run out of the room before she can see my tears.

  “Dixie?” Mom’s voice says softly, a few minutes later, at my bedroom door. “I’ve just had a really good idea!”

  I peek out from under my pillow, and listen to what she has to say.

  And you know what?

  It’s the worst idea EVER!

  Chapter 10

  The Party

  The BEST thing about the Candy Fun Day – I don’t have to make coffee for anyone!

  (We’re in a club, and the bar is serving fruit cocktails with curly straws in them.)

  The WORST thing about the Candy Fun Day – Tess is standing right next to me.

  Yes, you heard right!

  I really didn’t want to invite my sister along, but Mom said Tess was working so hard all the time that she needed a treat.

  Huh!

  But in the end, Mom looked at me with such begging puppy-dog eyes that I had to say OK, didn’t I?

  It’s weird, I’ve just spent the last half-hour alone with my sister – who I’d never hang out with even for five minutes at home.

  Not that we’ve done much talking – it’s been mostly looking.

  We’ve walked around in the crowds of competition winners, then checked out the different stands. There’s an Instant Makeover Stand, a Nail Bar and somewhere you can get Henna Tattoos.

  We’ve seen a zillion girls screaming and crowding around Zack McCloud. All they want is his autograph and to get their photos taken with him.

  We’ve peeked in a sound-proofed room, where you get filmed shouting “I want Candy!” as loud as you can.

  (After a week at Candy, I didn’t feel much like shouting that. And the only shouting Tess ever does is at me, yelling at me to shut up …)

  Tess and I have special staff wristbands. So now we’ve gone backstage to see what’s happening there. A frosty-looking Polly Cheer is in some sort of growly argument with Miranda.

  “That’s the Editor and her assistant,” I whisper to Tess. I can’t work out what’s going on.

  I don’t have to wait long to find out.

  “Wow, she’s in a bad mood!” Miranda mutters, as Polly stomps off onto the stage. Right away Polly sticks on a bright grin as she faces about two hundred very excited Candy readers.

  “What was all that about?” I ask Miranda. She’s standing with a sticky roller thing in her hand.

  “She told me I hadn’t de-fluffed her dress,” says Miranda, holding up the roller.

  “Is that part of your job?” Tess asks in surprise.

  “Only until next week. Then I’m going to college to train to be a nurse.”

  “You’re leaving Candy?” I squeak in surprise.

  I bet every girl in this club today would think Miranda had their absolute dream job.

  “Yep,” Miranda answers. “I’m fed up with all the phonies and fakes I meet!”

  Phonies and fakes … I guess I’d seen a lot of that this week.

  A magazine that’s super-friendly to read, with totally unfriendly staff.

  An Editor who scowls close up and then smiles in the spotlight.

  Models who can’t stand each other but pretend to be crazy about each other.

  Problem page editors who don’t care.

  No wonder Miranda wants to ditch all that to do some good!

  “Oi, you! Hold this junk!” a bossy Australian voice suddenly booms at Tess.

  I turn my head to see the one and only Zack McCloud. He shoves a load of single red roses, two teddy bears and a bunch of handmade cards into Tess’s arms.

  Then – just like Polly Cheer – his scowl switches into a smile as he walks on the stage and waves at his fans. What would they say if they knew he’d just dumped all the flowers and cards they gave him?

  Tess turns and stares at me and Miranda, her mouth open in shock because …

  a) she was so close to a celebrity, and

  b) he was so rude!

  And then she does something weird – she bursts out laughing …

  For a second I just stare at her.

  I mean, hearing Tess laugh is like hearing a cat quack.

  But it does shake up a memory in my mind of a time when Tess used to laugh.

  When did she stop? When did Tess turn into a no-fun, human rain cloud?

  “Just dump that stuff over there,” Miranda tells Tess and points at some tables laid out with snacks.

  I follow Tess over, mainly ’cause I’ve just spotted someone I want to tell her about.

  Someone who’s standing by the tables inhaling all the food as if she hasn’t eaten for a week.

  “You’ll never guess who that is!” I whisper in Tess’s ear.

  “Who?” she whispers back, an excited smile on her face.

  “Sharron Ford!” I tell her.

  Tess stops dead, she stops giggling.

  All the teddies, flowers and cards fall out of her arms and onto the floor.

  Wow, that was a weird way to react!

  “She doesn’t look much like her photo, does she?” I say as I bend down to help Tess grab the stuff up again.

  “It’s not that,” Tess says, with a shake of her head.

  Her hands are trembling.

  “Well, what is it?” I ask her back.

  “I sent a letter to her problem page a few weeks ago,” Tess admits.

  “You did?” I squeak.

  Tess is super-smart, has a bunch of good friends and a pretty nice family – so what problems could she have?

  “Yeah … it’s just that … well, I hate school!” Tess says. “The work is way too hard!”

  “Oh! Have you told Mom and Dad that?” I ask.

  “I don’t want to … they’re always going on about how proud they are of me being so smart. I can’t let them down, Dixie!”

  Wait a minute! Could my moaning grouch queen of a sister be ‘Candy Girl’? I think to myself. I r
emember the three letters I chose for the ‘Share it with Sharron’ page.

  “Tess – did you use your own name when you wrote your letter?” I ask slowly.

  “No … I knew you read that page and didn’t want you to know it was me,” Tess answers as she goes on staring over at Sharron Ford. “So I called myself ‘Candy Girl’. Do you think Sharron’s read it yet? And what will she tell me?”

  I know the answer to both those questions.

  But Tess doesn’t need to know that Sharron hasn’t even bothered to look at her letter yet.

  But, I can tell her what the reply is, ’cause I wrote it!

  Chapter 11

  Sweet Enough

  “Here it is!” says Tess and holds open the latest Candy magazine.

  She reads out a reply on the ‘Share it with Sharron’ page.

  Dear Candy Girl,

  You feel stressed out about doing well at school, but you know what? Your parents will be upset to know that you’re so down. Tell them that you’re finding things tough at the moment. You’ll be so glad you did, I promise!

  Sharron xxx

  Tess turns and gives me a smile. “Sharron didn’t change a word of what you wrote, Dixie!” she says proudly.

  It’s been a week since the Candy Fun Day, and here’s what’s happened since:

  I (the dumb little sister) made Tess (the smart big sister) tell Mom and Dad how she was feeling.

  Our parents set up a meeting with Tess and her teacher, to work out how to make things easier for her at school.

  Mom and Dad made a new rule – to have a Family Fun Day once a week (we’re all on our way to the movies right now).

  “Hey, guess what, girls?” says Dad, as me and Tess come out of the paper shop with Candy magazine in our hands. “Mom and I have changed our minds about going to see that movie. We thought you might like to go to the hardware store instead!”

  Dad’s lame joke gets a groan from me.

  It gets a slap on the shoulder from Tess, with the rolled-up copy of Candy.

  “Ow!” yelps Dad as if it really hurt.

  And now that Tess has read what she wanted to read (and used the mag on Dad!), she goes and drops it in the nearest bin.

  “Oh! Don’t you want that, Dixie?” Mom asks me with a frown.

  “Nope,” I reply with a grin, hooking my arm into Tess’s.