Holly Smale - Love Me Not

Contents

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Childrens Books in 2021

Published in this ebook edition in 2021

HarperCollins Childrens Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,

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Text copyright Holly Smale 2021

Cover design copyright HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2021

Holly Smale asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of the work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

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Source ISBN: 9780008393526

Ebook Edition May 2021 ISBN: 9780008254223

Version: 2021-04-30

For my sister, Tara,

always and unconditionally

Y oure not going to like me.

Im not nice , Im not relatable , youll find it difficult to empathise with the snarky daughter of Hollywood royalty yada yada, and frankly you can bore right off.

It is not a girls job to be liked.

Im not your mentor or your confidante. I didnt ask to be an inspiration or an aspiration; to make you feel seen and cosy inside. If you want saccharine sweetness and a tenuous grasp on the English language, go see my little sister Hope. Looking for a beautiful pushover? Check out my other sister Faith. Maverick charm from the brains of a moron? My brother Max has it in spades.

But me: Mercy Valentine? I dont need your validation and I dont want it, so keep moving.

I am not your hero.

Theyre called iceberg houses, Dior breathes as she leads me down winding marble stairs. Daddy says theyre all the rage in South Ken, so we just had to have one.

She flicks her blonde hair and beams at me.

Already irritated and Ive been at this party six minutes I pick the painful scab on my knuckle.

I think , my friend adds thoughtfully, popping the end of a highlighted strand in her mouth, its because you mostly find icebergs in rich places, like the Arctic, and they cost lots of money to visit? So, its, like, the most expensive type of house?

Dior, in case you havent worked it out yet, is an idiot.

Youre an idiot, I tell her as she leads me round the corner into a heaving, screaming corridor and past a full-size gym, complete with real palm trees and a floor-to-ceiling climbing wall. Its because theyre bigger in the basement than they are on top. Like icebergs .

Maybe its all the bleach she gets put in her hair every six weeks.

Maybe she should stop chewing on it.

Oh duh! Dior laughs loudly at her stupidity, as only the daughter of a billionaire tech start-up who will never need a job can. Am I not just the silliest ? But look!

She gestures proudly at a half-million-pound packed wine cellar to our right locked, obviously and then swishes past a darkened mini cinema (Make-out Room), a spa (Nap Area), a large exotic indoor garden, and oh for the love of

Dior, is that a flaming bowling alley ?

Sure is. She nods proudly as we go down another level and it stretches out in full neon to our left. Mummy really likes to bowl now and then, so we thought why not make our own? Then we dont have to rent icky shoes.

Yup: I am in the house of a family who built an entire subterranean Megabowl instead of just purchasing bowling footwear. Thats the problem with new-money families: you cant buy class, common sense isnt genetic and wealth is totally wasted on the wealthy.

Bowling is for losers, I tell her calmly. Congratulations.

Mercy.

Diors face falls momentarily punctured then she spots someone behind me and perks up again.

OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGODDDDD! The shriek is piercing and uncomfortable, like chewing on a ball of cotton wool. Cee! Ceeeeee, you came! What do you think? Isnt it just the best birthday party? Arent I the luckiest ?

I cringe as Amethyst sorry, Mee wraps her skinny tanned arms round my neck.

Dont touch me, I say, extricating myself.

Sorry, Cee. Amethyst is the glossy daughter of a supermodel and an international surgeon: her nose has already been edited, her lips are scheduled next. Im just so, so excited. Eighteen today! Eighteen! A legit adult! And such a good idea to have the party here, Vee! Dees house is just so much cooler than mine.

Vee Nova progeny of a celeb musician and an oh my God I cant be bothered to even finish this sentence grabs her arm and shakes it fondly. Youre worth it, gorgeous bestie.

No, youre the gorgeous one , Amethyst trills.

You are.

No, you are .

Youre both minging trolls, I conclude flatly, taking a drink from a random passing boy. And Ill have that.

Yup. Cee, Mee, Vee, Dee: together were like a freaking vocal warm-up for The Sound of Music.

With distaste, I smooth down my waist-length dark red wig and stare around the basement. Its carnage. Palm trees are being scaled, shoes thrown, songs bellowed, some dimwit has pulled a T-shirt up over his head and drawn a face on his belly.

Girls are fluttering, boys are peacocking.

Why, hello there, a shiny orange guy with black hair twinkles, sliding a bronzed hand around my waist. My name is Dylan Harris, TV Star from Netflix. How do you

I will rip your arm off at the shoulder, I say without looking at him. I will rip it off, I will sharpen it with my teeth, then I will shove it into your mouth so hard your ears fall off.

O-kay, he says slowly, backing away.

What does a girl have to do around here to be left alone?

Then why come to a party in the first place?

Cee, are you coming? Dior squeaks into my face, wiggling her bottom like shes constipated. Theres a special dancefloor; its glass and it lights up when you stand on it!

Ohmygoshohmygosh, Amethyst exhales. Dancing i s, like, compulsory on your birthday!

Totally, Vee nods, pulling us all towards a crowded room filled with shimmering turquoise light, as shockingly bad music bursts into the air. Oh my gosh, Daddy wrote this song for my sweet sixteenth!

And I just nearly dry-gagged up my dinner.

The girls grab hands in a circle and attempt to grab mine too. I shake them off and stick my hands in my pockets.

I just wish, Dee says, with an elaborately sad face, that Tee was here to celebrate with us.

Me too, Vee pouts. To Tee!

To Tee! Mee cheers as they clap hands together.

The three Birdbrains twirl off across the room like dropped pennies and I scowl at the crowd. Beautiful faces are lit with the kind of happiness that comes from being unable to conceive of a time when they wont be perfect, when their lives wont be perfect, when everything around them wont be the epitome of flawless, priceless perfection.