You Don't Know Me

Secrets

Reasons why you don't want to lose your brand new iPhone:

- Your mother goes crazy because she can't contact you if you get kidnapped by a deranged serial killer. Or if she suddenly needs you to buy milk on the way home from school. Whatever.

- You can't play your games, or check your apps, or watch T.V in bed, or see what everybody is saying about everybody in school. Which is tragic.

- Your mother goes even more crazy because your father gave you that phone in America and even though she thought it was a 'mad, excessive present for teenage girl', she is still angry that it's gone.

- You don't know who's got it, or who's looking at all your secrets.

That's the real problem. Secrets. 

Secrets like the fact that my dad doesn't work for Apple in California, like I told everyone. He doen't even own a mac

Or that George Drury kissed me behind the speaker stacks at the Bigelow Music Festival last summer and his girlfriend doesn't know. 

Or the mean things I've said about people at school that I assumed would remain private, but could be anywhere by now.

Or the videos. Oh my god. All those video we took on my birthday, of us prancing around to Abba and Girls Aloud. We were so cheesy you could make a fondue out of us. Anyone who saw them would think we were six, not sixteen. If it was someone at St Christopher's who took my phone, just one of them will be enough to keep the whole place laughing for a year.

"I'm sure we'll find it," says Nell on Friday for the fifty billionth time, taking the cushions off my bed and feeling down the gap between it and the wall with her hand. Despite the fact my room looks like a clothes shop exploded in a library, Nell still seems hopeful.

"Where did you have it last?" Rose asks, looking up from her place in front of my wardrobe mirror, where she's fiddling with her hair.

I stifle a groan.

"I can't remember. I know I had it in my locker when I got changed for dance class on Wednesday.And I thought it was in my bag when we were coming home. But I can't be sure now."

Jodie, wearing an ancient top hat from my vintage collection over her long dark hair, is slouched on a beanbag, checking her own phone. It's a BlackBerry that her dad got a deal on. She was so jealous of my iPhone, and sure it would be stolen. Which is what she's convinced has happened. By someone who's using it, right this minute, to do something terrible.

"Are you sure your wi-fi's switched on?"

"Totally sure."

"Well, I can't get the signal. I'm trying to check Interface."

I sigh. If anyone does decide to share my secrets, the first place they will appear is Interface. It's the world fastest-growing website. Ever since it came along, Interface has replaced Facebook, Twitter and    YouTube on all our phones and computers, because it lets you share everything, all the time. It's where we live our lives now: all conversations, invitations, photos and videos happen there. If you're not in Interface, you don't exist. And right now, if someone's looking at all the stuff on my phone, I'm not sure I want to. 

"Have you suspended your contract?" Nell asks, glancing up momentarily from her search.

I bit my lip. "Not exactly. I just keep hoping it'll turn up..." 

"And have you tried Find My iPhone?"

"Yes. But that says it's still at school, and we've searched everywhere and it just isn't." 

"Looking on the bright side, it might be on eBay."

"Oh, great. So the good news is, my £400 present from my dad is now being sold to a stranger."

"Well, at least if it is ," Jodie sighs, "nobody in school is going to see your interpretation of Beyoncé. In the leotard."

Nell frowns and throws a cushion at her.

"Sasha told you not to remind her about the leotard.

Rose is busy attempting to see what her hair would look like in Princess Leia-style plaits either side of her head. She has a perfect oval face, with big blue eyes, enhanced by masses of red-gold hair, but the plaits look like Danish pastries over her ears. She catches my eye in the mirror and gives up on them. "Ah. the Single Ladies leotard," She sighs. "It was a seminal moment." 

What is 'seminal'? Apart from being the another thing I need to be deeply embarrassed about, obviously. OK, so before the whole Britney thing on my birthday, I did my 'Single Ladies' impression- in a black leotard from ballet and borrowed heels form Mum. I do the dance as a workout occasionally. All I can say is, it seemed like a good idea the time.

"What does seminal m-?" Jodie starts. But then she looks down at her BlackBerry and stares at the screen. She's got a signal now and she's obviously found something. From the expression on her face,it's so not good.

"Tell me. What?" I beg, rushing over.

She turns her phone out so I can see the screen. There's a puzzled, worried look in her eyes.

"It's this." 

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The second chapter!! yay!! 

And guess what is it... ;) is it the Abba interpretation or the leotard video? or is it the "sunglasses" video they have made?