Geek Drama

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

About the Author

Also by Holly Smale

About the Publisher

Drama [drah-muh] noun

1 A composition in prose or verse presenting in dialogue or pantomime a story involving conflict or contrast of character, especially one intended to be acted on the stage; a play.

2 The branch of literature having such compositions as its subject; dramatic art or representation.

3 Any situation or series of events having vivid, emotional, conflicting or striking interest or results.

4 The quality of being dramatic.

ORIGIN 1510s, from Greek dran, meaning ‘to do, act or perform’.

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y name is Harriet Manners, and I am an idiot.

I know I’m an idiot because:

1. One half of me is inside a cupboard, and the other is not.

2. I can’t move more than two centimetres either backwards or forwards.

3. My feet aren’t touching the ground.

4. The shelf I used to climb up to this windowsill collapsed at least forty minutes ago.

5. I keep saying, “Help, help, I’m stuck,” even though nobody can hear me.

Clearly my spatial awareness is every bit as terrible as my dance teacher said it was after the Year 10 performance where I accidentally kicked another student in the face during an enthusiastic but badly executed can-can.

I don’t fit through this window.

At all.

Frankly, the fact that I even thought I might is a cause for serious concern. Recent studies have revealed that domesticated chickens have finely honed sensory capacities and an ability to think, draw inferences, apply logic and plan ahead in more advanced ways than those of a young child.

So, as I’ve been wedged firmly into the semi-open window of a cleaning cupboard in Infinity Models for forty minutes now, I can’t help thinking something, somewhere has gone very badly wrong.

It doesn’t say much for your IQ levels when you’re a fifteen-year-old girl with less common sense than poultry.

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nyway, as it looks like I might be here for some time, I might as well tell you how I got here, right?

That’s what you want to know.

How a person with over 6,000 days of life experience and an IQ of 135 ended up stuck in a hole like Pooh Bear after a particularly enthusiastic honey session.

And, frankly, I don’t blame you.

I’m still kind of trying to work that out myself.

Two hours ago, I was exactly where I was supposed to be: waiting quietly in the reception of Infinity Models.

“Hello,” I said as I approached the front desk and tugged at the too-long arms of my stripy jumper. “I’m Harriet Manners. It’s nice to meet you. I’m here for a casting.”

There was a silence.

“For Brink magazine.”