Page 25 of Role Model
“So who’s the most exciting person you’ve met?” Naomi asks me.
Talking about fame and well-known people lights her up. She is fascinated by it. I mumble something about the royal family and some of the interviewers on television. I realise that she is more interested in taking footage of food than eating any. She only seems hungry for information.
We take more pictures and video content before Naomi calls for a woman named Charlotte to come and tidy the kitchen. Charlotte, a middle-aged woman with a kind face, appears from the pantry to clean.
“Did you like the pasta?” she asks me.
94“It was brilliant,” I say, honestly.
Charlotte beams at me. I don’t know how but, as I watch her clear and tidy, I realise that she’s the one who made it, not Naomi. I want to say something to her but I can’t think of the right words. Naomi and Jed have gone to Naomi’s office to film some unboxing videos.
Ana and I go into the living room, which is bigger than the first flat we lived in back in Scotland.
We were told to take our shoes off at the front door, so I’m allowed to put my feet on the white leather sofa.
“Mum’s gearing up to do Vlogmas,” Ana says. “I told her no one under forty does that but she won’t be told.”
I smile. “Right.”
Ana regards me for a moment before she says, “We’re all going to Westfield on Saturday. To shop for dresses for the Christmas dance. And maybe something for Sable’s party.”
Her voice lilts as though it’s a question, but she hasn’t actually asked a question and I don’t know what I’m supposed to understand from her silence. So I wait.
“I don’t think I’m invited to that,” I finally whisper.
She looks surprised. “Oh, Aeriel, you totally are.95I know Sable’s not always, you know, the nicest. But you’re totally invited.”
I feel a sudden flicker of hope. “Oh. Great.”
“So will you come shopping with us on Saturday?”
“Yeah. Sounds–sounds good.”
She rolls her eyes and laughs. “It’s so hard talking to you sometimes, you’re so weird.”
She isn’t saying it to be mean but the word stings nonetheless. “Sorry.”
We watch videos on Ana’s phone. She says that she’ll do my hair for both the party and the dance.
“You’re so lucky it grows,” she tells me. “Mine never does.”
I grimace, grateful for the compliment. Then I notice something on the mantelpiece.
“Oh,” I say. “I didn’t know pictures were out.”
Our class photo is in pride of place, next to a vase of orchids.
“Oh,” Ana says quickly, sounding nervous all of a sudden. “That’s–that’s an old one.”
But as I approach the framed picture, I notice Miss Leslie. Miss Leslie wasn’t their form tutor until I joined. Our whole class has been stitched together and photoshopped into one whole class picture, as planned.
Except, when I see Sable, Ana and Jaya…
96I’m not there.
I’ve been erased from the picture somehow.
“What is this?” I ask Ana, completely dumfounded.
