Angie Bates - Hey Baby!

Of course, next day old Spud breezes round, as if nothing’s happened. When he let slip where he’d been, Tiff totally flipped. Being a Cartwright, she didn’t explain why she was upset, of course. Just did what we call her Ice Queen routine and sent Spud packing.

“Now he thinks she hates him,” Rosie said, her lip trembling.

“Cheer up,” I said. “Those two are going to live happily ever after if it kills us!”

For a minute Rosie looked exactly like my little dog Pepsi, when she thinks you’re taking her for a walk; all hopeful, with her head on one side. “Do you really think so, Frankie?” she quavered.

“I know so,” I beamed. “I’ve got a plan.”

And if I say so myself, when the others heard it, they were pretty impressed.

“Hey,” said Kenny, as we went back into class. “Anyone notice the M&Ms snooping round that time?”

“Not unless they were disguised as dustbins,” giggled Fliss.

We finally spotted them in a huddle with Alana and Regina Hill. The M&Ms, I mean, not the dustbins! Alana made this big thing of shutting her sad little teen magazine and putting it away, to stop us seeing who they were drooling over. But I’d already clocked it. Probably because Juice is the only pop singer I actually know personally.

I’m not swanking. It’s the truth!

He wasn’t a singer when I knew him, though. Just this weird kid called Julian Whately who lived next door to a friend of Mum’s. Then he dyed his hair, changed his name, and became this, like, big superstar. And if you want my honest opinion, he’s still a dork. It’s a total mystery to me why so many girls go wild about him. For some reason, the M&Ms had got it bad for Juice. I heard them whispering about him all afternoon. But I couldn’t care less what they were cooking up. I didn’t have time. I was working out what we were going to say to Spud after school.

I don’t know about you, but if I was going out with a boy, I’d personally prefer one with a sensible name. I mean, what kind of name is SPUD? Sounds like a labrador with gruesome breath! Also, you’d think someone called Spud would look tough, wouldn’t you? You know, with a serious tattoo or a stubbly haircut. But Tiff’s Spud’s got this fluffy yellow hair. Kenny says he looks like an ugly little duckling!

Anyway, we hit the Happy Shopper at 3.30pm on the dot. Both Tiff and Spud work there after school, which at this moment they were probably REALLY regretting.

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