Girl Online by Zoe Sugg

down and try to follow its path, but every time I think I see it again it is moved further away.
    I wince as someone steps on my fingers, and that split second is enough to make me lose sight of my phone. I swear my heart stops beating for a moment. Then I see it again—in a small clearing of feet. I drop down to the ground, grabbing for it. But, once again, it’s kicked out of my reach. Through the sea of legs, I see a hand reach down and pick up my phone.
    â€œHey, that’s mine!” I shout. Desperation sets in, and I crawl on my hands and knees, pushing through the crowd and nearly getting trampled.
    â€œWhat are you doing?!”
    â€œWhat the hell?!”
    I ignore the complaints as I push past a forest of bare legs and ripped denim, but it’s no use. My phone is gone.
    I stand up before I get crushed, frantically searching the crowd for the phone thief. Every face looks the same: wide-eyed and staring at my boyfriend up onstage. I’m theonly one whose eyes are not on Noah. Another person shoves my shoulder, launching me into the person behind me, who yells at me. Luckily the crowd drowns her words out, but I know they aren’t friendly. “I’m sorry,” I try to say, but I suddenly feel so enclosed. There’s no space for me to move, let alone breathe.
    I see the bright red EXIT sign above everyone’s heads and I try to make a beeline for it. I feel like I’m swimming against a strong tide, caught in a current that is threatening to drag me under. I can hear Noah talking to the crowd between songs but it feels like a million miles away.
    Then I feel a tap on my shoulder. “Hey, aren’t you that girl with the blog? Noah’s girlfriend?” asks a girl with her bright blonde hair tied to one side in an awesome fishtail braid.
    â€œUhh . . .”
    â€œOh my god, guys, it’s Noah’s girlfriend!” Fishtail Braid gathers all her friends round.
    â€œWho, the blog girl?”
    â€œWhere?”
    â€œCan you give this to Noah for me?”
    Before I know it, the girl and all her friends are surrounding me. Other people in the crowd are noticing me, or maybe they’re just using the commotion to try to get even closer to Noah onstage.
    â€œI need to get out of here,” I say, but it comes out as barely a whisper. All of a sudden this has turned into my worst nightmare. It feels like there are a million hands pressing down on me, all wanting to pull me in a different direction. My breath turns shallow inside my chest. I can’t see where to go—every path through the crowd looks the same, leadingdeeper into all the faces staring at me. I can’t even hear Noah’s voice anymore over the screaming inside my head.
    â€œPenny? Is that you?” asks a female voice.
    I don’t know who it is, but I can only answer in a whimper. The girl grabs my hand and starts to pull me through the crowd. “Come with me. This way.” I feel stupid entrusting myself to her—all I can see is a cascade of long, dark brown hair—but, as she barges a path through the crowd, that feeling is quickly replaced by gratitude.

Chapter Eight
    At last we break through the hordes of screaming girls and out into the wide hallway outside the stalls. I take a huge gulp of air, placing my hands on my knees. When I’ve finally managed to clear the fuzz from my mind, I look up. To my surprise, it’s Megan.
    She looks genuinely worried about me. “Hey, are you OK? You looked pretty overwhelmed in there.” She puts her hand on my back.
    I smile weakly. “I just couldn’t deal with the crowd. It was too much. I lost my phone, and then all the people were pressing down on me . . .”
    â€œWere you crying? Your makeup is streaked.”
    I’d forgotten that I’d cried at hearing Noah’s singing, and I wipe my hands across my cheeks. That moment backstage seems like a lifetime ago now