be,” Elliot says. “Penny’s an awesome photographer.”
I feel all smiley inside. “Wow. When do I start?”
“Tomorrow, while I’m setting everything up,” Mum says.
“Don’t worry, Elliot,” Dad says. “While the girls are busy we can do a bit of sightseeing. How do you fancy a tour of the museums?”
Elliot looks up at Dad and to my surprise I see that his eyes are gleaming with tears. “That would be epic,” he says quietly. “Seriously, you guys are the best. Thank you so much for bringing me here.”
“Oh, honey,” Mum says, laughing. “You’re very welcome.”
And we all smother Elliot in a hug.
Chapter Fifteen
The next morning, I’m woken by a knocking sound.
“Pen, are you awake?”
My first thought is, how am I able to hear Elliot’s voice so clearly through my bedroom wall? Then I open my eyes and catch a glimpse of crisp white bed linen and plush burgundy carpet and it all comes flooding back. I’m in the Waldorf Astoria. I’m in New York. I survived the flight!
“Yes,” I say, shuffling up to a seated position.
Elliot comes bounding through our adjoining door. “I’ve been awake for ages,” he says. “I’m too excited to sleep.”
I look at the clock and see that I’ve slept for ten whole hours. This is an incredible achievement after the nights of fitful sleep back home.
Elliot plonks himself down on the end of my bed and opens his laptop. “OK, I know you didn’t want to go online while we’re over here but there’s something you need to see.”
I instantly feel sick. “No, please, Elliot, I don’t want to see anything to do with the stupid video. I just want to forget about it.”
Elliot shakes his head and smiles. “It’s not the video; it’s your blog.”
I stare at him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that you, my dear, have gone viral again—but this time in a very good way.”
“What?” I crawl up the bed toward him and turn the laptop around so that it’s facing me. I see my post about facing my fears.
“Scroll down,” Elliot says.
I scroll down. There are 327 comments.
“What the . . . ?” I stare at the screen blankly. I’ve never had this many comments. Ever.
“They’ve all been posting about their fears,” Elliot says, “and how they’re going to face them. They’ve been sharing it too. Look how many followers you’ve got.”
I look at the followers bar on the right-hand side of the screen. “Ten thousand?”
Elliot nods. “Ten thousand, seven hundred, and fifteen, to be precise.”
I sit back, stunned. “Oh wow.”
“You should read them, Pen, some of them are so moving. There’s one girl who says she’s going to stand up to the bully in her class and there’s another who’s going to confront her fear of dentists. And, oh my God, you have to read this one.” Elliot starts scrolling through the comments. “Look.” He turns the screen back to face me.
Hi Girl Online, my fear is a bit different to the others on here and, to be honest, I’ve never told anyone about it before. But if you’ve got the courage to face your fear after your car accident, then I feel like I ought to face up to my own fear too. My fear is my mum. Well, not exactly my mum herself . . . I’m afraid of her drinking. Ever since she lost her job she’s been drinking more and more and I hate what it does to her. It makes her really angry and moody and she always shouts at me. But that’s not what I’m most afraid of. I’m most afraid that she doesn’t love me anymore. That probably sounds really dumb but she seems so different—like she doesn’t care anymore, about anything or anyone, even me. But your blog post has inspired me to do something. Today, I’m going to tell my auntie how I’m feeling. I know she won’t be able to fix anything but she might be able to give me some advice, and just telling someone might help me to feel a bit better. Thank you so much for being so brave and for inspiring us to be brave too.
I feel all smiley inside. “Wow. When do I start?”
“Tomorrow, while I’m setting everything up,” Mum says.
“Don’t worry, Elliot,” Dad says. “While the girls are busy we can do a bit of sightseeing. How do you fancy a tour of the museums?”
Elliot looks up at Dad and to my surprise I see that his eyes are gleaming with tears. “That would be epic,” he says quietly. “Seriously, you guys are the best. Thank you so much for bringing me here.”
“Oh, honey,” Mum says, laughing. “You’re very welcome.”
And we all smother Elliot in a hug.
Chapter Fifteen
The next morning, I’m woken by a knocking sound.
“Pen, are you awake?”
My first thought is, how am I able to hear Elliot’s voice so clearly through my bedroom wall? Then I open my eyes and catch a glimpse of crisp white bed linen and plush burgundy carpet and it all comes flooding back. I’m in the Waldorf Astoria. I’m in New York. I survived the flight!
“Yes,” I say, shuffling up to a seated position.
Elliot comes bounding through our adjoining door. “I’ve been awake for ages,” he says. “I’m too excited to sleep.”
I look at the clock and see that I’ve slept for ten whole hours. This is an incredible achievement after the nights of fitful sleep back home.
Elliot plonks himself down on the end of my bed and opens his laptop. “OK, I know you didn’t want to go online while we’re over here but there’s something you need to see.”
I instantly feel sick. “No, please, Elliot, I don’t want to see anything to do with the stupid video. I just want to forget about it.”
Elliot shakes his head and smiles. “It’s not the video; it’s your blog.”
I stare at him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that you, my dear, have gone viral again—but this time in a very good way.”
“What?” I crawl up the bed toward him and turn the laptop around so that it’s facing me. I see my post about facing my fears.
“Scroll down,” Elliot says.
I scroll down. There are 327 comments.
“What the . . . ?” I stare at the screen blankly. I’ve never had this many comments. Ever.
“They’ve all been posting about their fears,” Elliot says, “and how they’re going to face them. They’ve been sharing it too. Look how many followers you’ve got.”
I look at the followers bar on the right-hand side of the screen. “Ten thousand?”
Elliot nods. “Ten thousand, seven hundred, and fifteen, to be precise.”
I sit back, stunned. “Oh wow.”
“You should read them, Pen, some of them are so moving. There’s one girl who says she’s going to stand up to the bully in her class and there’s another who’s going to confront her fear of dentists. And, oh my God, you have to read this one.” Elliot starts scrolling through the comments. “Look.” He turns the screen back to face me.
Hi Girl Online, my fear is a bit different to the others on here and, to be honest, I’ve never told anyone about it before. But if you’ve got the courage to face your fear after your car accident, then I feel like I ought to face up to my own fear too. My fear is my mum. Well, not exactly my mum herself . . . I’m afraid of her drinking. Ever since she lost her job she’s been drinking more and more and I hate what it does to her. It makes her really angry and moody and she always shouts at me. But that’s not what I’m most afraid of. I’m most afraid that she doesn’t love me anymore. That probably sounds really dumb but she seems so different—like she doesn’t care anymore, about anything or anyone, even me. But your blog post has inspired me to do something. Today, I’m going to tell my auntie how I’m feeling. I know she won’t be able to fix anything but she might be able to give me some advice, and just telling someone might help me to feel a bit better. Thank you so much for being so brave and for inspiring us to be brave too.
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