How to Get Famous Read Online Free Page A

that they'd ever
taken me seriously.
    Then Miss Lytton bustled in to take the
register, giving me a big beaming smile
until Lank hurled my exercise book down
in front of her, saying there was proof I'd
faked the autograph.
    Miss Lytton didn't say a word, just gave
me a look which said: 'You have
disappointed me greatly.'
    4.00 p.m.
    Rest of the day was a train-wreck. And I
wanted the ground to swallow me up. Not
that anyone would have guessed that. I
still kept grinning away at everyone and
that's all I want to say about it really.
    TUESDAY 9TH MARCH
    I finally rang up Georgia and told her the
daft thing I'd done. She groaned quite a lot
and told me I had the brains of a rocking
horse. But then she tried to be dead kind
and said over and over, 'But it will be all
right.' This actually made me feel even
worse.
    WEDNESDAY 10TH MARCH
    I haven't actually been sent to Coventry;
it's just that no one in my class, or year, or
school, is speaking to me right now. They
frown and mutter and tut a lot though.
But that doesn't bother me at all, as my
parents tut and sigh and frown at me
every night too. So I'm immune to all that
carry-on now.
    THURSDAY 11TH MARCH
    I'm writing this while shaking with rage.
You know I have to do a really humiliating
thing if I want to watch television, namely,
ask my parents' permission. Well, tonight
my dad just growled, 'No, we're not having
that babble on.'
    'Dad,' I said, 'television is our window
onto life today.'
    'Not my life, it isn't,' he snapped.
    I explained. 'Dad, television can be
highly educational – it's bursting with
general knowledge quizzes and competitions.'
    'Of course it is,' he replied with heavy
sarcasm. 'Phone us up to guess how many
sides there are on a triangle . . . and pay
us five pounds for the privilege.'
    And right now all he and Mum watch on
the telly is – the weather. Mum will
actually call Dad when the weather forecast
is on. He'll come lumbering in and the
two of them will gaze at the screen
frothing with excitement (the average age
for watching this is: dead). But the second
it's over, the TV is switched off again.
    Now that's not right, is it? Television
should be freely available at all times, like
air and water. And my parents have no
business rationing it. In fact, they're
violating my human rights. And I could
have them carted off to prison. They're
just lucky I'm too kind-hearted to do
that.
    FRIDAY 12TH MARCH
    I went round Georgia's house for my tea
tonight. She thought it best I didn't tell
her mum how I'd defaced Johnny Depp's
autograph. 'That's something I just don't
think she would ever understand.'
    Then Georgia asked how life was at
school.
    'Let's just say my brief burst of
popularity on Monday has melted away
like a pocketful of toffee.'
    'But people are talking to you again?'
    'Oh yeah, they call out the odd cheery
phrase to me like: "you retard". It doesn't
bother me at all. I just wish . . .'
    'Yes?' she prompted.
    'I wish it was Christmas tomorrow.'
    She smiled. 'Why's that?'
    'No particular reason. I just feel like it
being Christmas, because it's my favourite
time of the whole year and everyone's in a
good mood – even my dad. And you get
presents and there's no school and better
telly.'
    'Robbie Williams loves Christmas,' said
Georgia. 'And one night he bought twenty
pounds of fake snow to cover his garden.
Then he put up all these decorations and
had Christmas all over again.'
    'Now there's class,' I said, 'but you can
do that if you're a star. And I'm more
determined than ever to be one.'
    Georgia gave my hand a little squeeze:
    'Get famous, Tobey.'
    'Get famous, Georgia,' I said, 'and then
everything else will come right for us too.'

Chapter Four

    SATURDAY 13TH MARCH
    2.30 p.m.
    My parents had gone out shopping so I
was just innocently watching TV when
Dad came back early.
    He burst in on me like some crazed
policeman yelling, 'Now, what's going on in
here?' If he'd gone on to tell me to walk to
the door with my hands in the air, I
wouldn't