The It Girl: Team Awkward. Katy Birchall

a walk,’ Helena explained as she led us all into the sitting room.

      ‘YOU WHAT?’ Letting Dog be taken for a walk by a STRANGER? That was completely unacceptable. What if someone stole him? It would be understandable – Dog is one of the most beautiful and intelligent creatures on this earth, after all. Also, Dog always gets sulky with me when other people take him on walks. It makes him think that Dad and I are neglecting him. Once, when Helena took him for a stroll because I was staying the night at Jess’s house and Dad was on a tight deadline, Dog punished me by sneaking into my room and eating chapters one to ten of The Hobbit.

      Dad looked at me apologetically. ‘We had to get him out of the house while the owls were here. Helena insisted on seeing the birds herself. I made sure the dog walker was very trustworthy – Fenella assured me that he was very good with dogs.’

      ‘Who is Fenella? What is going on? Why owls? Why has my house turned into Hogwarts?’

      ‘Um, Anna?’ Connor spoke up, patting my arm lightly. ‘I really am going to have to head home now. Nice to see you again, Mr Huntley, er, Helena.’

      He waved goodbye awkwardly. As the door shut behind him, I slapped my palm on my forehead. ‘Well, that was mortifying. Dad, what is going on?’

      Dad gestured dejectedly towards the sitting room and I marched past him to see for myself. I was greeted with what looked like a scene out of those totally random arty films that Dad loves: several empty owl cages, the wedding team standing around the room holding owls and clipboards, what appeared to be an extremely disgruntled bird handler sitting on the windowsill with his head in his hands, and Helena in a frenzied conversation with a woman who looked like she had walked out of the Vogue head office. Marianne was slumped back on a sofa fanning herself with a newspaper.

      ‘Anna, come and meet Fenella,’ Helena instructed jovially, leading the tall Vogue woman towards me. ‘She’s our wedding planner.’

      ‘Yeah, hi.’ I offered my hand, which Fenella took rather reluctantly. ‘Why are there owls everywhere?’

      ‘I thought we could have one carrying the ring. What do you think?’ Helena clapped her hands excitedly.

      ‘It’s the stupidest idea of all time,’ Marianne grumbled, rubbing her forehead. ‘Did you not just witness the chaos?’

      ‘I told you not to let them all out at once,’ the bird handler growled.

      ‘What’s the point in having birds if they can’t fly about? I didn’t realise they would go mental.’ Marianne rolled her eyes. ‘Anna, did you see them flying about everywhere? We can’t have them at the wedding, they’re completely wild.’

      ‘Yeah, I did happen to notice them when they flew at CONNOR’S HEAD.’ I sat down in a strop, pausing to accept the sparkling water that one of the wedding team offered me.

      ‘Connor was here?’ Marianne perked up at that.

      ‘Connor is Anna’s beau,’ Helena explained to Fenella, who looked like she didn’t care in the least.

      ‘He is not my “beau”!’ I groaned.

      ‘I’ve told you this so many times, Mum. Stop using the word “beau”,’ Marianne instructed. ‘You sound weird.’

      ‘I am not weird!’ Helena protested. An owl behind her made a loud hooting noise, prompting all the other owls to start hooting too. She glanced around. ‘OK, fine, this is a slightly weird situation.’

      ‘I think it is time we take our leave,’ Fenella announced, and she clapped her hands three times.

      The wedding team acted at once. They moved around the room at lighting speed, impressive considering their very tight black uniforms. They gathered together boxes of material and folders and rushed them outside to the line of black cars that I only noticed now were parked along our road.

      ‘It looks like we’re being investigated by the FBI,’ Marianne observed as she pulled herself forwards to watch from the window. She was wearing a t-shirt with I’m dating the band on it.

      ‘The FBI is American,’ I corrected, spilling my sparkling water down my top and trying to act like nothing had happened.

      ‘I’m glad that’s over,’ Dad said when the last owl had been carefully carried from the house and Dog had been returned, clearly very annoyed at not only missing out on whatever had left the strong bird-like scent in his house but also at being walked by a strange man. I knew it was Dad he was mad at – I saw him sniff agitatedly around before sitting his furry bottom down on Dad’s reading glasses. Still, I ran upstairs when he wasn’t looking and quickly moved all my books, just in case.

      ‘No owls at the wedding,’ Marianne stated firmly, looking at her mother.

      ‘You’re all very boring indeed,’ Helena pouted.

      Marianne ignored her. ‘So, Anna, how was it with Connor?’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘Oh come on,’ Marianne grinned. ‘Are you guys properly together at last, or are you still playing it cool?’

      ‘I think her coolness factor went out the window when she fell through the door,’ Dad observed.

      I narrowed my eyes at him. ‘Coming from the man who writes books about tanks and sings Disney songs in the shower?’

      That shut him up.

      ‘You fell through the door? Anna!’ Marianne said, throwing up her arms and causing all of the bangles around her wrists to jangle loudly. ‘Why do you keep falling over all the time? What’s wrong with you?’

      ‘Nothing! I was leaning against the stupid door and someone opened it for no reason.’ I looked accusingly at Helena. ‘Someone from the wedding team. What even is a wedding team?’

      ‘They’re putting the wedding together for us,’ Helena explained, flicking through a bridal magazine. ‘I make all the decisions, they do all the work.’

      ‘We make all the decisions,’ Dad corrected. Helena ignored him, engrossed by a feature on cake.

      ‘Why were you leaning against the door?’ Marianne asked. ‘Why weren’t you just opening it?’

      ‘Because . . . we were chatting.’ I shrugged and kicked off my shoes. ‘I’m going to go upstairs and change.’

      ‘Oh my goodness,’ Marianne gasped. ‘Was he about to kiss you?’

      ‘What? No!’ I blushed furiously.

      ‘He totally was! You’ve gone bright red!’ She squealed. ‘You guys!’

      ‘No, he wasn’t. We were chatting,’ I explained to the room. ‘There was no kissing, or attempted kissing.’

      ‘I should hope not,’ Dad went all huffily. ‘You’re only fourteen.’

      ‘Oh Nick.’ Marianne looked at him sympathetically. ‘You’re so naive.’

      ‘Look, there was no kissing and there probably never will be,’ I announced, standing up. ‘Everyone at school has seen the plant pot video. Including Connor.’

      ‘Connor doesn’t care about plant pots,’ Marianne said smugly. ‘He’s just potty about you.’

      ‘Very nice, how long have you been waiting to say that?’

      ‘Basically since the video went viral. But I needed the right moment. Don’t worry about it, he’ll kiss you soon enough.’ Marianne winked.

      ‘Not under my roof. And I think Anna’s mother would agree with me too,’ Dad added.

      Marianne snorted. I knew what she meant. My mum and dad had never actually been married, or even really together, and they were both very happy with this arrangement. Mum was what