BY THE TIME WE reach our lockers it's just five minutes until first bell. I hear Jamie's voice before I see her – she sounds like she's super upset about something.

Jamie's what some people might call a drama queen – literally, because she's the unofficial star of Huntson High's drama club, and figuratively because she's totally OTT and melodramatic.

As we near her I see she's wearing a sequined silver cardi over a dress with a photo of the Fable boys printed on it. She mentioned that she did a bit of online shopping just for the concert, and I guess this is it.

Her long brunette hair is swept up in a messy bun to show off the shower of oversized golden stars dangling from her ears.

It must have taken her hours to get ready this morning.

Jamie never does things half-heartedly. Last year when she was getting into character for her role as Dorothy in the school production of The Wizard of Oz, she wore her hair in braids every day for weeks.

And a while before that one of her YouTube fans won a contest where they got to choose what color she wore for a month. She wore shades of green every day head-to-toe until Beth Donklin told her she looked like a cucumber.

Standing next to Jamie is my other bestie, Grace.

Jamie told me that in elementary school the other girls nicknamed Grace "Mouse", because she’s small and quiet, with mousy blonde hair in ringlets down to her shoulders. As usual, she's dressed conservatively (a high collared pale blue dress today) and has a book tucked under her arm.

When I first met them, I thought they made an odd pair. I still think that. The Drama Queen and the Book Worm. Somehow though, it just works, and they are closer than sisters in spite of their opposite personalities. Go figure.

"Oh my god, finally," Jamie practically shrieks as we reach our lockers. "Girls, we have an EMERGENCY on our hands."

Grace shakes her head and gives me a look. Here she goes again, is what she's saying.

"Are you ok Jamie?" Zee asks innocently. "What's wrong?"

Jamie swings open her locker door. She reaches into the back where she keeps her spare makeup, knocking aside lip-gloss and a bottle of Miss Dior perfume. She pulls out her black pencil eyeliner and brandishes it like a sword.

"This is what's wrong," she says, staring intensely at the eyeliner. The nib is nowhere in sight.

"I tried sharpening it, but it's just making the wood sharper and leaving the nib behind." The way she's moaning and staring at the pencil in horror, you'd think someone had just died.

She takes my hand and stares hard at me, her eyes wide and brimming with tears. "Ashling, tell me you have eyeliner. My life depends on it."

Besides Jamie, I'm the only one in my group who ever wears makeup – Zee's a total tomboy, and Grace isn't allowed. So I get why Jamie's pinning her hopes on me.

Still, I only ever wear eyeliner for a night out, not to school. Jamie collapses against her locker and sinks to the floor as I shake my head.

"This is beyond lame," she says, hugging her arms around her body. "I feel naked."

"I think you're getting a bit carried away," Grace says, pulling Jamie back onto her feet. "It's just for one day."

Jamie's face looks even more panicky and her voice actually manages to rise an octave.

"Just one day? Hellooo! Have you forgotten what's happening today? We're watching Fable tonight. It's literally the biggest day of my life. Of all our lives. I wanted to slay tonight. And it's not like I'll be able to borrow eyeliner at your house when we're getting ready... there's no way your mom would lend me some, even if she had."

Grace lives closest to Rose Quarter, tucked away in the heart of the city along the Willamette River, so the others are going to her house after school to get ready for the concert.

It was a miracle really that Grace's parents agreed to it at all.

They're ultra conservative – anti-makeup, anti-dating, anti-fun. They treat her like she's some sort of delinquent, which is ridiculous, because she's basically a saint. Like if they give her an inch of freedom she'll go off the rails.

Jamie says it's got something to do with her older sister, but I don't know the full story.

"Who cares what you look like at the concert," Grace says. "Everyone will be watching Fable. No one's watching you."

"Tell that to my followers," Jamie mutters.

Jamie has more than seven-hundred-thousand followers on Instagram and even more than that on Tumblr and Vine. All she does really is upload photos and videos of her outfits, hair and makeup every day (plus the occasional rant about hipsters) – but she's doing something right. Some of her vlogs have over a million views.

She says she doesn't care about being popular – it's all practice living in front of a camera, the perfect preparation for her future career in Hollywood. Personally I think she just likes all the attention.

"This is the worst possible timing ever,” she says with a pout. “I need my eyeliner. I wanted to take photos every hour today, like a countdown to the concert. It's just not fair. #fableportland is so trending right now and I'm going to miss out." The last part sounds like a squeal.

Zee squeezes her arm. "Don't worry Jamie. None of that matters. We're all going to have an amazing time at the conc-"

She catches my eye even though I'm trying to look nonchalant.

"Sorry Ashling. I keep forgetting," she says quietly. We're all silent for a moment.

"It's ok. I'll be fine," I say, not feeling like I'll be fine at all. I'm determined not to feel sorry for myself though, and I hate the thought of my friends worrying about me.

"Seriously, I'll be ok," I say.

"Of course you'll be ok," Jamie says. "It was your decision not to come tonight. And besides, you'll get to spend time with Jade. Tell him I say hi".

Jade works for my parents. He's super hot, super nice and also super unavailable.

Grace cocks her eyebrow. "You're dreaming Jamie. He’s twenty-one," she says.

"Whatever. He's sooo into me." Jamie says.

"That's irrelevant. You're underage. It’s wrong, and he'd never risk it," Grace says matter-of-factly.

"Quit being such a prude. Five years is nothing," Jamie says. "Anyway, lets get back to real issues – like my eyeliner."

"I have a sharpie in my bag," I offer.

"I might actually try-" Jamie stops mid-sentence and sighs.

"We have company."

"Hey Ghost." A familiar voice pipes up just behind me.

I steel myself for a moment. I'm so tempted to ignore her, to just close my locker and walk away.

I turn around already knowing who I'll see. Beth, Bailey and Becca – or the Three Bs, as they're known at Huntson High.

Beth is the Queen Bee, and Bailey and Becca are sort of like the worker bees. They do everything for her; they even carry her bag and her phone.

Jamie says the reason people call them the Three Bs isn't because their names all start with B, but actually because they’re all "Blonde Brainless Bitches". She's wrong though – Bailey gets good grades and she’s sort of nice, and Beth and Becca aren't really blonde.

They only started dying their hair blonde last year after they became obsessed with Fable and Alastaire said in a TV interview that he only dates blondes.

Alastaire's elite fans, or “Alastaire’s Angels” as the media calls them, are like an exclusive club, and having the right look is a must. That means blonde, skinny and pretty.

Maybe it's because I fit the description that on my very first day at Huntson High, Beth actually tried to recruit me into her little clique. I was sitting alone in the cafeteria, feeling totally out of place, when she introduced herself to me.

The first thing she said to me is that I'm really beautiful, “like a model” but I'd be “sooo much hotter with a tan.” She also said that I was waaaay skinny and she wanted to try whatever diet I was on.

The truth was that I hadn't been eating properly for months. I was still so wrapped up in everything that had happened. Of course, I didn’t tell her that. I just shrugged, said thanks, and started to walk away.

Then she told me they had space for me at their table.

I guessed it was probably a big deal to be invited, but I'm not even remotely interested in being friends with someone like Beth.

Popularity is seriously overrated.

After I turned Beth down that first day, the taunts started. I guess she figured that if I'm not going to be on her team, I'm a threat.

She played around with stupid names like “Trashling” and “Ashtray” before she settled on “Ghost”.

I guess it's because of how I look. Ashen. Airy. My hair is long and straight and whitish-blonde; my skin is way too pale, and my eyes are the same light green as both my parents.

Besides my appearance, I was so quiet and detached in those first few weeks at Huntson High that I probably did resemble some sort of lonely specter.

I didn't talk to anyone. I drifted along the corridors in my own world. I wanted to be invisible, to fade away. Until Zee and Grace and Jamie rescued me.

I can see what Beth was thinking with the nickname, but she probably doesn't even realize how close to home it is. Some days, especially on days like today when I'm thinking about the bus and Mia and Evan, I really do feel like a ghost.

Most of the time Beth and I avoid each other, but sometimes when we pass each other in the corridors or in the cafeteria, the Three Bs make spooky noises.

Beth's standing in front of me now, arms crossed in front of her.

"I heard a rumor about you," she says, twining a long strand of GHD'd blonde hair around her finger as she stares intently at me. She's ignoring my friends and staring only at me, as if they aren't even there. "I heard you're bailing on the concert tonight."

I just shrug, trying to look like it's no big deal. "So what? Why do you even care Beth?"

Beth's jaw literally drops. "Oh my god. So it's true?"

I'm starting to get irritated. I swing open my locker so that the door is between her and me, hoping she gets the message.

She pokes her head around the side of my locker.

"No way," she says. "I guess you couldn't get a ticket, huh? They sell out so fast. You poor thing. You must be devastated."

Her voice is as sweet as honey. She's loving this.

"She had a ticket," Zee says, stepping in front of me, "she's choosing not to go. For... um... personal reasons."

I cringe a little. I think Zee's trying to help, but she's just making it worse.

"Seriously?" Beth is now smiling so hard she looks like her face is about to split open. Something about her makes me think of a cobra about to strike.

"Wow Ghost. I thought you were such a big fan. You seemed so dedicated." She draws out the words, eyes glittering with glee.

"I am dedicated," I say. "There's a reason I'm not going, it's just... personal."

I'm sure that must sound extremely stupid.

Beth's eyes twinkle. "Well, I guess not all Enfablers are for life. There are always gonna be wannabes".

It's ironic that Beth would say that. She and the other Bs only really got into Fable at the end of last year, but since then they've made up for lost time.

The Three Bs are the kinds of girls who give Enfablers a bad name. Sending threats to the boys' girlfriends on Twitter. Hating on other fandoms. Turning fans against each other.

I just stare at Beth, trying to keep myself composed until Becca starts giggling behind her.

"Let's go Beth," she says. "She's a lost cause."

Beth shakes her head and turns her gaze finally to my friends.

"Have fun tonight girls," she says in a sugary voice. "Try last the whole show, ok? I'm sure you're gonna get tired standing around in general admission."

"You're not in general admission?" Zee asks, taking the bait.

"We're in a suite," Bailey says from behind Beth. The sound of her voice always surprises me a little – she doesn't usually talk. Beth does all the talking for her.

"Seriously?" Zee asks, innocent and wide-eyed as ever. "Aren't suites, like really expensive?"

"Yeah, I guess they are," Beth says. "But that's what makes us real fans... as opposed at posers like you freaks. Money's no issue when it comes to getting close to our boys."

"I think you're forgetting that technically we'll actually be closer to them if we're standing on the floor," Grace says. "We're going early to get a spot near the stage."

"Whatever," Beth says. "You and twenty thousand other fans. Good luck with that."

"You probably won't see them at all," Becca chimes in. "It's a cesspit on the floor. You'll be lucky if you can even see them on the screens."

"You might as well stay at home and watch the show on YouTube," Beth taunts.

"So what?" Jamie's getting angry now. "They're sticking around Portland for a few days. They'll probably be checking out all the tourist attractions. It's not like tonight is our only chance to see them."

"Yeah," Zee says brightly. "We're all gonna see them. And meet them even. You too Ashling." She reaches for my hand and gives it a quick squeeze.

"Actually, they're flying out tomorrow, so no," Beth says.

"And how the hell would you know that?" Jamie asks.

Beth flashes a victorious smile. "My mom works for the limo company the boys are using here. They're getting driven out to the airport tomorrow."

She could be lying, but she knows we'd find out on Twitter soon enough anyway. I'm guessing there's no point in asking what time they're getting driven out, so that we can meet the boys at the airport – Beth wouldn't tell us anyway.

"Anyway, I'm done mingling with the riffraff," Beth says, turning her back on us and heading down the corridor. "TTYN bitches".

"Let's go," I say to Jamie, Grace and Zee.

*****

The rest of the morning goes by excruciatingly slowly. My first three periods are the worst. Chem, math and physics. The deadly trio.

The fact that I'm still feeling down about the concert doesn't help matters.

My next class is art, which I actually like. Plus it's one of the few classes I have with Jamie, Grace and Zee.

We usually meet up at our lockers before walking out to the arts building together, so I'm not surprised when I hear Jamie's voice as I'm about to turn the corner by our lockers. She sounds upset.

I stop dead in my tracks when I hear her say my name.

I'm not totally sure what it is that makes me press my back against the wall and stand listening, concealed around the corner where they can't see me. I'm only a few feet from them, and they could leave the lockers and turn the corner at any time, and this would be very weird to try and explain to them.

I don't usually randomly eavesdrop on my friends. But there's something in Jamie's voice. I need to hear what they're saying about me.

"I'm just tired of everyone treating her like a freaking porcelain doll the whole time. And it's getting seriously old defending her. She needs to pull herself together."

"She's depressed, Jamie." Grace's voice. "She'll get better. She just needs time".

"Yeah, well, maybe she needs to see someone. She's getting worse, not better."

I wait for someone to defend me. Zee can't have arrived yet. No way would Jamie say stuff like this in front of her.

"She's trying Jamie," Grace says so softly I can only just hear her.

"Is she really though? If she really wanted to come tonight she'd get over her issues. I mean, isn't she the one that's always saying how she wishes she could give something back to them? I know we all love Fable, but Ashling basically lives for them. And now she's going to miss out just because of a bit of claustrophobia?"

"Claustrophobia? You think that's what's wrong with her?" Turns out I was wrong. Zee's part of this conversation after all.

"I can't believe what you're saying Jamie. Have you forgotten what she's been through? Just give her a break."

I thank Zee silently.

"Ok fine, something really lame happened to her –" Jamie begins.

Zee cuts in. "More than something lame... It was literally a tragedy."

"She's right Jamie." Grace.

"Ok, whatever, a tragedy," Jamie says. "But how long is she going to let something that happened two years ago rule her life? She's gotta get over it at some point."

Even though I can't see Zee right now, I can tell just by the low, cold tone of her voice that her face is bright red with fury.

"She is getting over it. At her own pace. She just doesn't want a repeat of what happened at the Zara Quinn concert. None of us do."

"Yeah, but she's missing Fable," Jamie answers. "FABLE! Seriously."

I've had enough. I turn around and walk back the way I came from. The worst thing is, I know Jamie's totally right.

I'm irritated with all of them for the rest of the day. Even Zee and Grace, though I don't know why exactly – they were defending me, after all. But I just hate that they were discussing me behind my back.

How often do they talk about me like that?

I try not to show how upset I am, and they don't seem to pick it up. They probably just think I'm a bit down about not going tonight.

My bad mood is amplified by all the happiness and excitement around me.

It's a Friday, so there's the usual pre-weekend buzz. On top of that, it's not just any Friday – it's the second last Friday before summer vacation starts. Add to that the concert tonight, and the whole school seems to be smiling.

Everyone except me.