Shopaholic to the Stars by Sophie Kinsella Read Free Book Online

guy from
Desperate Housewives
.’ It could have been him, or it could have been a different guy, but Mum won’t know.
    A klaxon is sounding. Oh God. Is that the race starting?
    ‘Mum, I have to go,’ I say hastily. ‘I’ll call later. Bye!’
    That
was
the start of the race. We’re off. We’re running. I’m running too! Feet and arms are blurring around me as the runners jostle for position and I breathlessly try to stay with them.
    God, they’re fast.
    I mean, it’s fine. I’m fast too. I’m totally keeping up with the others. My chest is already burning, but that’s OK, because the endorphins will kick in, any minute.
    The most important thing is: where’s Sage?
    As the crowd thins out, I’m able to get a better view of my fellow runners. I’m scanning the heads desperately for a turquoise baseball cap … She must be somewhere … I can’t have missed her, surely …
    There! I feel a burst of joyous adrenalin. She’s right up at the front, of course. OK, time to make my move. I’ll sprint up to her casually, gesture at my hat and say, ‘I think we’re on the same team.’ And our close friendship will begin.
    I’ve never really considered myself an athlete before, but as I charge forward, it’s like some invisible force is powering me. I’m overtaking the wiry black girl! I’m on fire! I’m exhilarated! But still the turquoise cap is bobbing along ahead of me, tantalizingly out of reach, so I put on an extra spurt of energy. Somehow I succeed in drawing level with her. My face is boiling and my heart is hammering in my chest, but I manage to point at my hat and gasp, ‘I think we’re on the same team.’
    The turquoise baseball cap turns … and it’s not Sage Seymour. It’s some girl with a pointy nose and brown hair who just gives me a blank look and ups her pace. She’s not even wearing a TEAM SAGE cap, either, just a plain turquoise one. I’m so disconcerted I stop dead, and nearly get knocked over by a horde of runners.
    ‘Jesus!’
    ‘Out of the way!’
    ‘One-eight-four, what are you
doing
?’
    Hastily I move to one side and try to catch my breath. OK, so that wasn’t Sage. But never mind. She’ll be here somewhere. I just have to keep my eyes open for turquoise … turquoise … Yes! Over there!
    With a fresh surge of adrenalin I plunge into the race again and chase after another turquoise baseball cap. But as I draw near, I can see already that it’s not Sage. It’s not even a girl. It’s a skinny, Italian-looking guy.
    Bloody hell. Panting hard, I head to a water station and take a sip of water, still desperately scanning the crowd of runners, refusing to give up. So I’ve had two near-misses. Never mind. I’ll find her. I will. Wait, there’s a flash of turquoise up ahead. That
must
be her …
    An hour later, I feel like I’ve moved into a parallel universe. Is this ‘The Zone’? It feels more like hell. My lungs are pumping like pistons; my face is sweaty; I have blisters on both feet; I want to die … and yet still I’m moving. It’s as if some magic force is keeping me going. I keep seeing turquoise baseball caps in the crowd. I keep chasing them. I’ve approached one blonde girl four times now. But none of them is Sage. Where is she? Where
is
she?
    And where are these bloody endorphins? I’ve been running for ages and haven’t had a single one. It’s all lies. Nor have I seen a single Hollywood landmark. Have we even passed any?
    Oh God, I
have
to drink some water. I head to the next water stand, decorated with helium balloons. I grab one paper cup and pour the water over my head, then gulp at a second. There’s a crowd of cheerleaders in red costumes doing a routine nearby, and I look at them enviously. Where do they get all that energy from? Maybe they have special springy cheerleaders’ boots. Maybe if I had glittery pom-poms to shake, I’d run faster.
    ‘Becky! Over here! Are you all right?’ I straighten up, panting, and look around in a daze.