Destiny Date Read Online Free PDF

off the points on her
fingers. ‘First: you can never go wrong looking like a gazillion dollars. You must wear your best outfit.’ Her gaze flicks towards my wardrobe. ‘Actually, borrow one of
mine.’
    ‘I’ll be wearing school uniform,’ I remind her.
    Savannah looks appalled. ‘But you’re going to change when you get there, right?’
    ‘Without the uniform, we don’t get the press passes,’ I explain. ‘We’re representing the school webzine.’
    ‘You have to attend a London fashion show in
school uniform.
’ Savannah opens her mouth dumbly.
    ‘At least I won’t be noticed.’ I’m actually relieved I don’t have to dress up. How could Topshop and River Island compete with designer collections?
    Savannah looks at me sternly. ‘When are you going to stop wishing you were invisible?’
    ‘I don’t wish I was invisible,’ I argue. ‘I just don’t like standing out.’
    Savannah looks me up and down. ‘Then why do you want to be a prize-winning journo?’
    ‘That’s different,’ I tell her. ‘I can change how I write. I can get better at it. I can’t get better looking.’
    Treacle looks up from my iPod. ‘Why would you want to? You’re gorgeous.’
    Then why did Sam give Cindy a bracelet and not me?
    Savannah ditches the uniform discussion and goes back to counting points on her fingers. ‘Number
two:
flat shoes. There’s going to be a lot of standing and waiting.
There’s no way you’ll get seats. They’ll be for the A-listers. But some won’t show up, so if you spot a spare seat when the lights dim, grab it. There’s no harm
looking like an A-lister. Especially if it’s front row – that’s where the fashion gods sit. Third—’ Savannah’s not pausing for breath. ‘Do NOT be late.
They won’t let you in. Fourth: no talking. If you have a comment, make it with your eyes not your mouth. Nodding is fine, head-shaking’s OK, but do not chatter. You can text though.
Actually, you must text. Designers love to think the audience is sharing their genius with the outside world, so be sure to snap photos and text them straight to me.’
    ‘I may not have time,’ I warn Savannah. ‘I’m there to take notes for the webzine, remember?’
    Savannah pauses to acknowledge her grief then moves on. ‘I understand. But I want first peek at your notes and do try and take a few snaps with your phone to show me after.’
    ‘I promise,’ I tell her solemnly.
    Music suddenly explodes from my music dock and Treacle leaps back like a surprised burglar. ‘Sorry!’ she shouts above the thumping and reaches for the controls.
    ‘No, no! It’s perfect!’ Savannah yells over the noise. She leans down and scoops my dressing gown off the floor. ‘Model this for us!’ She flings it at Treacle,
waving at the runway she’s swept through my floor clutter.
    Obediently, Treacle flaps my dressing gown over her shoulder and starts stomping along the carpet catwalk like a footballer heading onto the pitch. She twirls at the end and wobbles. With a
squawk, she topples into the beanbag.
    Savannah rolls her eyes. ‘You’re not exactly Kate Moss.’
    Treacle’s already on her feet. ‘Kate Moss couldn’t tackle a midfielder.’
    But Savannah isn’t interested in Treacle’s football talent. ‘We’re getting Gemma ready for her first fashion show,’ she says sternly. ‘Not Wembley.’ She
turns Treacle to face the carpet catwalk once more. ‘Wait.’
    Reaching for my wardrobe, she flicks open the door and slides a pair of heels from the bottom. They’re black, ultra-strappy and high and I’ve never had the nerve to wear them. They
seemed a good idea in the shop, but when faced with the reality of running for the bus, I always go for my old, flat ballet shoes.
    ‘Put these on.’ Savannah drops them into Treacle’s hands.
    She stares at them as they dangle. ‘These aren’t shoes,’ Treacle splutters. ‘They’re instruments of torture.’ She peers at the tangle of suede straps.