Signs of Love: Stupid Cupid Read Online Free Page A

door.
    The webzine HQ is basically a storeroom on the first floor of the school. The caretaker kindly cleared out most of the clutter and now, apart from the shelves of aging textbooks and glue pots
that line the walls, there are six battered desks, each with a computer and a chair.
    No one’s here. I’ve got the room to myself. I wonder where they are. It’s deadline day. I can’t be the only one who’s not finished their piece. Maybe the rest of
the webzine team have already been and gone. Maybe amazement at LJ’s chopstick skills slayed them and they’re lying dead in a corridor somewhere, their faces frozen in awe.
    The ticker tape starts running in my head.
    Newsroom Massacre
    The entire staff of the Green Park High webzine were struck down today, stunned to death by the unprecedented coolness of their new schoolmate.
    LJ Kennedy, recently arrived from the USA, ate sushi in the lunch room with chopsticks. In a community where forks and fingers rule the lunch box, this startling feat of manual dexterity
     plunged the entire school into hysteria.
    Webzine editor, Cindy Jensen, was the first to succumb, frothing at the mouth as shock overwhelmed her. Will Bold collapsed a few minutes later, his face contorted as he landed on his
     editor’s still-writhing body, though it’s not yet clear whether it was astonishment or contempt that killed him.
    The old school clock above the door is ticking away the seconds noisily. I cut the internal monologue.
    I breathe in the lovely old paper-and-wood smell of the storeroom as I settle behind a desk. It’s how I imagine a newsroom might have smelled in the days before plastic and high-speed
communication. I’ve bagged the fastest PC, pleased that Will’s not here to elbow his way to it like he usually does. By the time I’ve got the PC humming, found this week’s
horoscope document and opened it, Savannah’s stars are already written in my head. It takes me two seconds to slip into Jessica Jupiter’s voice and type them into the PC.
    Pisces . You are the most idealistic and dreamy of all the star signs, but don’t be fish-brained, Star-ling. Before you dive into a new
romance, check the depth. You may think you’ve found your heart’s desire but, my dear Fin-derella, your Prince Charming may turn out to be all charm and no prince.
    I pause, leaning back in my chair. It may not be enough to convince Savannah. I know from experience that when she’s smitten, the smit runs deep. Frowning, I tap my fingernails on the desk
– I gave up biting my nails when I became Jessica. Somehow, chewed stubs for fingers didn’t suit the glamorous image I’d given her. Though I still have to fight the urge to
nibble. Then an idea strikes. I could encourage Marcus to ask Savannah out again. It might distract her. After all, a real date beats a fantasy date. I’ve actually only ever had fantasy
dates, so I don’t know for sure, but it seems logical. I can do a quick search on Facebook to find out Marcus’s birthday – then I can work out his star sign and lace his horoscope
with gentle encouragement to try again.
    As I log in to the website, the storeroom door swings open.
    ‘Hi.’ It’s Sam.
    I half look up from my keyboard as I type Marcus’s name into the search box. ‘Hi.’
    ‘Have you heard the news?’ He sounds excited.
    ‘What news?’ I ask, looking up properly now.
    Sam’s perched on the desk opposite, staring at me with eager puppy eyes. ‘About my band.’
    ‘Your band?’ I hit the return key to enter my search.
    ‘We’ve been given a regular slot playing at the underage night at Sounds on Fridays.’
    ‘Wow!’ No wonder he looks so happy. Sounds is a nightclub in town. It’s normally eighteen-and-over but a couple of weeks ago they announced that there was going to be an
underage night the first Friday of every month – so anyone from fourteen to eighteen can go. And this month every Friday night before midnight is teens only, as a kind of