“Come again?”
Bruno’s pixelated face betrayed total bafflement as he stared at the webcam.
“She’s a girl,” Brookie repeated wearily, sneaking a sidelong peek at the large crowd that had gathered around Jessie Cannock, who appeared to have turned a nasty shade of green.
“My God.” An evil smirk spread across Bruno’s face. “Brookie, you mean all those rumours were true? Exactly how long were you planning to hide it from me?”
A shadow fell across Brookie.
“Hide what?” chirped a female voice. “Oh my God, hi, Bruno!” The exclamation was accompanied by a hair flick that caught Brookie in the eye.
“For God’s sake, Leila, when the hair stylists tell you to put your hair up, keep it that way!” Brookie snapped, resting his fingers against his eyelid, but his eye continued to sting like nobody’s business.
“And to think you used to be a tomboy,” Bruno remarked drily. “Now, if you don’t mind, Brookie and I are having a manly talk that will scar your delicate little ears if you hang around, so why don’t you go and get your hair done again?”
Leila shrugged and plopped herself down into a chair beside Brookie. “No point. Jessie’s throwing up all over the place and we need her to continue filming the scene. The director was thinking about trying to shoot something else, but we’re not in the right location with the right equipment, so we can’t.”
Bruno raised an eyebrow at Brookie. “I did wonder why you were skyping me in the middle of a shoot.”
“Well, who else can I talk to about this? I only found out on Sunday and it feels like my life is falling to pieces around me.”
“You mean she didn’t tell you before and you aren’t just finally blurting it out because you can’t hold it in anymore?”
“What are you talking about?” Leila interrupted.
“Nothing—” Brookie began, but at exactly the same time, Bruno came out with: “AIDS, Leila, dear, what else?”
“Bruno!”
Leila looked from the computer screen to Brookie. “You have AIDs?”
Brookie flushed furiously. “No, I do not!”
“How did you get her to admit it?” Bruno persisted with a thoroughly wicked grin. “Were there lots of tears involved? Did she push you away and tell you not to come near her? Oh, oh, oh! Did she beg you not to tell anybody because it would ruin her life? Did she—?”
“Yes, Bruno, now shut up!”
“Brookie, did you hold her close and tell her everything will be alright?”
“Not exactly, but—”
“Aww, twue wuv!” Bruno simpered. If he hadn’t been manifested only on screen, Brookie would have grabbed the nearest brick and thrown it at him.
“Who are you talking about?” Leila asked.
“Nobody,” Brookie snapped.
“Brookie’s one true love,” Bruno said at the same time.
“You have another girlfriend already?” Leila looked disappointed.
“No, I don’t!”
“Brookie, you look like a beetroot. I’d forgotten how fun it was to tease you about your love life. Only now it’s your sex life and she’s ruined—”
YOU ARE READING
Plan B
Teen FictionPlan A might have been just as dangerous as the police insisted it was safe. It involved being locked away, out of sight and communication, and didn't solve the problem that Fran's stalkers seemed to have access to police files and data. Plan B th...
