Read Fanmail for Free Online Page B

fact, I got back to my seat just as Jason announced, ‘And this is our last song,’ and picked out a very nice acoustic melody on his Ovation (that’s a guitar, not a new words for abs or something).
    Aggie and Dolores were both in a trance. I pulled Dolores’ hair to get her attention. ‘Come on, we’ve got to go now.’
    ‘But it’s the last song!’ bleated Dolores.
    ‘The best one,’ added Aggie. ‘I bought a glowstick specially for waving. It’s Show Me Tomorrow.’
    ‘Well, I’m going to show you now. Jazzy D, downstairs, coming off the stage – but only if we leave THIS SECOND!’
    They took one look at me, grabbed their programmes and legged it, followed by a swelling stream of girls who’d overheard me and cottoned on to what we were doing, or had just seen a queue and decided to join it. Consequently by the time we got back around to the cordoned off area, running at full pelt, we were no longer at the head of the crowd which had taken on a life of its own, and the man who’d had hold of my letter (and was no longer holding it, I just about managed to notice) glanced up to find a tsunami of teenagers bearing down on him, just as Double Vision finished their final encore and spilled down the steps at the side of the stage.
    Our side.
    ‘There they are!’ screamed someone, Aggie I think, and suddenly the tide swerved and stampeded towards the crash barriers.
    ‘It’s him, it’s him!’ Dolores could be heard above everyone else to begin with, but was soon drowned out by the cries of ‘Jazzy! I lerv you! Jazzy, Jazzy! You’re Divine!’
    Time to use my height to my advantage. ‘Quick, Dolores, get on my shoulders!’
    Queen Divvie wasted no time in climbing up my back as best she could, and if it was more of a piggy back than a shoulder-ride, it didn’t seem to matter. It still gave us some extra thrust as we barged our way through the madness, Dolores tossing her pink hair around and yelling ‘I love you, Jazzy’ and me going, ‘Jason! Jason, it’s me , Cat Andrews. Dolores, shout Jason Devaney instead of Jazzy.’
    We’d just reached the barrier and the “guys” were sprinting along the other side of the metal bars , waving a little nervously.
    It all happened so quickly.
    Dolores shouted, ‘JASON DEVANEY!’ at the top of her voice.
    Jason was just running by at that very second, and turned to look at us in surprise.
    I stuck my hand out, saying, ‘Jason, it’s me, Cat Andrews, from Jersey,’ …
    … as Dolores stretched out a taloned hand too, and ripped his too-tight collar right off his shirt.
    He clutched his throat as if he’d been strangled, but didn’t stop running. Though he did have time to gaze up at Dolores.
    Yes! I thought. Now there’ll be instant chemical reactions and marriage proposals.
    Then I saw the expression on his face, and it wasn’t adoration. In fact, it wasn’t anything like the expression on Nerdy Ferdy/Freddie’s face when he ’d stared up at Dolores.
    It was fear. Pure, animal fear, mixed with a teensy bit of loathing.
    And then he was gone.
     
     

Jason Devaney
    c/o Stephen Scowl
    Talentfactory
    PO Box 47863
    London SW19 8DR
    Or c/o The Zed Security
     
    Hi Jason,
    Just to confirm that me, Cat Andrews from your former school in Jersey and my gorgeous brawl-causing friend, Dolores (and someone else but you don’t need to know about her) … anyway, we’re going to be back stage waiting for you after the show at The Zed, and it will be great to catch up on old times.
    Hey, I just remembered something else about our school. Do you recall the pea pod tree out the back of the playing field? The one that was actually a massively poisonous laburnum tree with evil seeds? Well, do you know it was me who stopped half of the reception class eating them, because I knew something they didn’t know:
    Peas don’t grow on trees!
    It was after that they cordoned it off and put that ‘keep away’ sign on it.
    Right, chuntering on about nothing, and we