“Come on mate, you’re not that puny, are you?” Nic teased. Louder chuckles. I sensed people stopping to watch my embarrassment.
I regretted attempting to do the piñata at a cool party where I didn’t really belong. I was making a spectacle of myself.
“Try and hit it,” said a boy’s voice. Chuckles.
“Come on monobrow!” jeered Theo.
I became more flustered and embarrassed. I had no idea which way the piñata even was now. The blindfold was really tight. Sophie had obeyed Nic’s suggestion. I couldn’t even see my feet out of the bottom to gauge which way the breakfast bar was.
I raised the bat up, as if getting ready to make a hit. This got more laughter. So did that mean it was the wrong way? I turned around. Less laughter. Was that better?
“Come on already, swotface!” Nic’s voice. Laughter.
I was making a spectacle of myself. And Nicole, my best friend, was helping to spectacle me. I was betrayed and humiliated.
“Come on monobrow!”
I tried a hefty whack. I hit nothing. More laughter. I turned around and tried again. I could feel anger rising inside me.
“Come on monobrow!”
“Haaaa! Are you filming this?” Nic’s voice. “Come on, swot!”
My humiliation finally boiled over into proper rage. I shouted, “STOP CALLING ME NAMES!” at the exact same time I gave a super hard whack. And hit something, hard. But it wasn’t the piñata.
It all happened really fast. There was a clunk. A boy shouted, “Aaarrrgh!” Then came the noise of someone falling on expensive kitchen tiles, followed by the gasping of the crowd.
That all happened in a split second. Then time started again. Someone said, “Are you getting all this?” Someone else laughed.
I ripped off the blindfold. Two mobile phones were in my face, filming me. Theo was kneeling on the floor clutching his elbow in apparent agony. I had hit his arm.
“She could see!” shouted someone. “She hit Theo on purpose! Because he called her monobrow. She’s a psycho!”
“No, I didn’t!” I cried. “Stop filming me! It was an accident!”
Theo looked close to tears. Maybe he was just in shock. “She’s a psycho!” he yelled. Then he got up and ran away.
I’m pretty sure he ran away because he was embarrassed and didn’t want anyone to see him crying.
“Oh my god,” people were muttering. The phones were put down though. No one was filming me any more. But a crowd was gathering, and so were whispers that I had tried to kill Theo in vengeance.
“People! People! Stop!” Nicole shouted over the hubbub, and got relative silence (the music was in the room next door). “Are you kidding yourselves? Look at who you’re talking about!”
Everyone looked me up and down and then back to Nic. “Seriously, look at her!” They glanced at me again. “Erin doesn’t have a psycho bone in her body! She’s the nerdiest, quietest little swot and she wouldn’t hurt a fly!”
“STOP CALLING ME A SWOT!” I heard myself shout. “STOP IT! JUST STOP IT! I’m not a swot! I’m just a normal person! I hate when you call me swot! It makes me feel really bad and guilty, like I’ve done something wrong, and I haven’t! It’s not my fault I got moved up two sets in English! I would never ever, ever call you stupid! I never call you anything mean! Stop calling me swot!”
The angry words just bubbled out of me.
Nic’s eyes filled with tears. “I was defending you!” she whispered, looking stricken.
“Great!” I shouted sarcastically. “Well, with friends like you, who needs enemies!”
Nic stared at me, incredulous, and then her heartbroken eyes kind of hardened and glazed over. “You ARE a psycho!” she spat, then she and Liz turned and ran off too.
It was at this point that Brianna and Sylvie arrived on the scene, dragging Grace with them. “Here!” said Brianna.
“She’s here,” agreed Sylvie.
Oh phew, Grace was here. She was my friend. Some cavalry, a friendly face. She sticks up for me now, I thought. I was sure she could sort all this out and tell everyone it was an accident and that I’m not a psycho.
“Did you – ?” Grace blinked at me quizzically. “Did you really hit Theo with the piñata bat?”
“Yes!” snapped Sylvie.
“It was an accident,” I said in a small voice.
“Look at the video!” Brianna held up her phone.
“Oh my god, is that already on Instagram?” I said.
“Yes, it is, psycho,” said Brianna.
“And Snapchat,” said Chloe, joining them from the crowd.
“You have to chuck her out,” added Sylvie. “It’s not safe for her to be here. She assaulted one of your guests. Who knows what she’s capable of.”
“It was an accident,” I repeated.
“We can’t take that risk,” stated Brianna. She turned to address Grace. “Babes, she’s destroyed the whole vibe of your party. No one wants her here.”
Grace looked to each person’s face, then back to me. “All right, Erin, come with me.” She reached for my hand and then let it drop as I followed her out into the hallway.
She led me towards her front door. OMG she was chucking me out! Surely not! She was supposed to be my friend! She knew I would never do anything psychotic. Surely.
“You’re not actually chucking me out, are you?” I asked, loitering pointlessly by her antique hat stand.
“It’s nothing personal,” she replied. “I’m trying to have a nice party. Maybe it’s better you leave, let the dust settle?”
“But it was an accident! Don’t you believe me?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, I certainly wouldn’t have thought you’d be the type of person to hit someone with a bat on purpose.” She paused. “But you know, I think you’re maybe going through some things with your friend Nicole and I don’t know … maybe it would do you good to get some fresh air and calm down and stuff.”
“Wow,” I said. “I thought you were my friend.”
“I am your friend.”
“Why didn’t you stick up for me then?”
“Look, I could say I feel let down by you,” replied Grace haughtily. “I went out on a limb for you. I’ve really tried to include you in my friendship group. I can’t single-handedly heal the ills wreaked by the laws of the playground. All you had to do was act normal for two seconds, and apparently that was too much to ask. So here we are.”
“Unbelievable,” I said. “You are a total coward, you know that? If you don’t like me, fine. But don’t pretend you have principles.”
“I think you’re going through something hard right now,” said Grace. “Look, if it’s any consolation I forgive you for disrupting my party by hitting someone. No ill feelings.”
“Wow. That’s a big consolation, yes, thanks. I feel much better.” I said this sarcastically but I’m not sure the sarcasm registered with Grace.
“Good. So, you see, we can still be friends. In fact,” Grace seemed to switch mode to admin, “when is the deadline for the ghost story again?”
“Really?” I was flabbergasted (and still sarcastic). “You think that’s an appropriate question to ask me right now?” She nodded. “Well, that’s just great!” I fumed. “It’s –”
Huh. I paused. Was I about to try to teach Grace a lesson? Take back a tiny modicum of control on the worst day of my life? “It’s the first of April,” I responded.
“April Fools?” said Grace.
“Yep. Bye forever Grace.” I left, under a cloud of shame, to enter the new friendless, betrayed phase of my existence.
“See you soon!” she called after me.
She genuinely seemed to have no idea I was upset with her. And certainly no idea that the ghost story competition deadline was not the 1st of April, but the 28th of March.
GRACE
It was a long Sunday for some reason. Even though Daddy took us to an exquisite gastro pub. I had this gnawing feeling about Erin. Like, maybe I hadn�
��t been completely … fair to her.
And I tried to tell myself that if anything I should be annoyed with her. Because she nearly ruined my party … but … but (a) every party needs a good story, and her hitting Theo sort of was that; and (b) I know she didn’t do it on purpose. And actually, (c) Theo is a little creep who sort of deserved it anyway.
Something Erin said has really stayed with me: coward.
Abellas are not cowards!
But did I pander to my friends instead of doing the less popular but right thing?
Because, actually, what is the point of being popular if you can’t control everyone and be a highly influential style icon all the time? And if I’m not that, then what even am I?
I’d been really torturing myself about why my group of friends aren’t hanging off my every word. And what that says about me, and about them. And the paradox is if they won’t listen to me, they must be idiots, but if they are idiots, I should be able to outsmart them and make them listen to me … and aaarrrggghhh.
Maybe I let that worry cloud my judgement?
I tried to turn my brain off and enjoy the fact that most of my party had been a success. And I had behaved honourably and impeccably throughout. But I was still thinking about Erin when I got into bed!
I needed comfort, so I snuggled up with Jane Eyre and read for a bit.
I’ve re-read that book so many times that sometimes I just pick it up and start reading at random, for comfort.
I ended up reading the bit towards the end, about how Jane Eyre becomes great friends with her new cousins.
Hadn’t I become great friends with Erin? Maybe I really had treated her badly. That was why I felt bad.
I, Grace Abella, had behaved badly.
Abellas don’t make a habit of mistakes, but when we do, we admit them.
I will apologise to Erin.
I REALLY shouldn’t have put my other friends’ wishes above what I knew was right. Poor Erin.
And like, I love my friends and everything. #lovemygirlsquad. But sometimes, sometimes that whole world is just exhausting. It’s a constant effort to stay on high alert and put people down if they start dissing you.
But it was nice to hang out with Erin and not worry about any of those status games. There was no constant pressure to be cool or on guard for slights.
And who cares what my other friends think? They’ll come around eventually. They always do. No one believed me about the lob haircut and then that was very on trend, and everyone had to eat their words.
So what if I disagree with them for a bit? I’ll just be a different type of style icon or whatever. Maybe I’m entering my alternative phase…
I wonder if I should do something to make things up with Erin? Like maybe I need to apologise for real – not my fake smoothing things over kind. And maybe get her a present? As a good-will gesture to show her I’m serious?
Hmmm, what does Erin need? A phone! (I can’t get her a new phone – that’s way too over the top.) Something smaller … a cupcake! OK, that’s probably too small. I was more horrible than a cupcake. I need something somewhere between those two things…
Monday 25th March
ERIN
Fun new discovery: when one is sent to Coventry in disgrace, one no longer gets called names all day long.
Tiny YAY.
Nic and Liz ignored and whispered about me in the form room before registration.
No eye contact from any of my peers.
I think maybe people are scared of me?
Not going to lie, this is the closest I’ve ever been to high status, and part of me likes it. I mean, it is, in some ways, an improvement.
Theo waltzed into the form room this morning, clocked me, jumped, turned around and took a wide berth round the desks to avoid me.
I am very happy to let him continue to think I hit him on purpose.
That’s right, Theo, keep away – you drove me to breaking point and now I could flip out again at any time.
I sat down at my desk before morning registration. I ignored the whispers of Liz and Nic.
I was pretty shocked when Grace marched up to my desk, proffering what looked like a present.
“What do you want?” I half whispered, shocked.
Nic and Liz were straining to listen but pretending not to be.
“Erin, I should very much like to apologise to you.” Grace managed to somehow sound dignified.
I felt bizarrely awkward.
“Go away,” I hissed.
“I really would like to most sincerely apologise,” Grace repeated. “I should have supported you at my party more. I know you didn’t hit Theo on purpose. I never should have thrown you out. I have got you this present to show you how sorry I am.”
“Holy what?” Nic blurted out. “You chucked her out of your party? Great new best friend you have here.” She addressed me.
Grace held out a red sparkly gift bag. Inside was a sleek, silver-looking makeup bag and some quite fancy makeup.
“Wait. Is that Dior?” asked Liz.
“Yes, I find I really like their mascara,” said Grace. “And Erin is not my best friend, she’s yours.” Grace addressed Nic.
“Can I have a look?” Liz reached for the bag and I handed it to her.
“Huh,” scoffed Nic. “No, you won her fair and square. I can’t keep up with all the intellectual Brontë crap and marble kitchens and Dior makeup. You keep her. Now maybe get lost, yeah?”
Grace did not like being spoken to like that. She raised an eyebrow haughtily.
“There’s a lot of pain in you babe.”
“Is that what this is about?” I asked Nic. “You thought you couldn’t keep up with me?”
“Of course,” Grace answered for Nic. “Nicole is very insecure about her intelligence. I think that’s why she lashes out, and probably why she places so much emphasis on the importance of music, to deflect.”
“You what?” Nic stood up.
“You heard,” Grace replied evenly.
“You patronising cow!” spat Nic. “You don’t know anything about me!” She grabbed the bag of makeup from Liz. “Take your crap and get lost!”
Nic forcefully shoved the bag back towards Grace, and sort of pushed her a tiny bit at the same time.
“Hey!” That was Sylvie from across the room.
Then Sylvie, Brianna and Chloe all strutted over to us.
“Do we have a problem here?” asked Sylvie menacingly.
“No,” said Grace evenly. She rolled her eyes.
“Oh, really?” said Brianna, staring daggers at Nicole.
“It looks like some basic skank is giving you side eye,” said Sylvie.
“Babes, I got this,” said Grace. She was really calm. I was filling with adrenaline at all the unwanted drama.
“Well, just so you know,” Sylvie addressed Nicole and me, but mainly Nicole, “the last time some skank tried to push one of us, she ended up falling down some stairs.”
Brianna chuckled, then she and Sylvie did a weirdly cool hi-five without actually looking at each other. Then they held hands for a second, before dropping their hands back down and continuing to stare me and Nic down.
“Well, the last time someone called me a skank, she got her teeth knocked down her throat,” said Nicole (quite bravely, I thought).
“Yawn,” said Grace, sounding bored. “You all done being extra?”
“Babes, you can’t let these emo witches step to you. Even if one of them is psycho.” Sylvie glared at me.
“All right, you know what? You all need to hear this,” said Grace. “Erin is not psycho. She’s my friend. She’s funny and kind and she would never do that on purpose. Sure, she doesn’t have great fashion sense,” Brianna and Sylvie nodded emphatically at this, “but it would be boring if we were all the same.” Grace continued, “I never should have chucked her out of my party and I’m sorry, Erin. I want to be friends. So, if anyone is disrespectful to Erin you will have a problem with me.” She paused. �
�And Nicole, I don’t know what you’ve got going on with Erin, but I hope you become friends again because Erin is great and you’re lucky to have her.” Nicole was about to retort, but Grace continued, “Erin, please take this as a token of how sorry I am,” and passed the bag back to me.
I took it numbly. “Um, OK…” I mumbled.
“Sylvie, Brianna, Chloe, apologise to Erin,” Grace instructed.
“What?! Chloe didn’t even do anything,” protested Sylvie.
“I’m sorry Erin,” said Chloe dutifully.
“Eurgh, fine.” Brianna rolled her eyes. “Sorry, Erin.”
“Sorry, Erin,” said Sylvie.
“Great. See you later Erin.” Grace beamed at me and they left.
“Well, you may have them twisted round your little finger,” said Nic then. “But I’m not buying it.”
“Buying what?” I asked her, confused.
“You really hurt my feelings at that party. I’m still really upset with you. And you haven’t even apologised to me.”
“OK, I’m sorry I upset you, but do you know why? I’m upset with you too, I have trouble telling you sometimes how—”
“Not interested,” Nic cut me off. “Is that your idea of an apology? Because I can’t even.” She did a sassy hand gesture to me. My two separate groups of friends were more similar than I had realised.
“Nic, you should listen to my side,” I attempted.
“No,” Nic snapped. “You don’t even care about my side. I think you need to have a long, hard think about how much you’ve upset me actually. I’m not talking to you. I seriously can’t even.”
She turned her chair away and sat down so she was facing Liz.
“Nic I’m just trying to be –” Honest. I didn’t finish my sentence.
I’m just trying to be honest.
Just like how I need to tell Grace that I lied to her about the competition deadline.
Ohhhhhhh sugar.
GRACE
I knew I could fix it! I knew I could fix it if I could just put my head together, with my other head. (My head is so brilliant it counts as most people’s two heads. I am a genius.) #sowhatelseisnew
Well, everything. This is it. New me. New everything. I am going to be a new person. A more authentic person… Like maybe everything doesn’t have to look perfect on Instagram. And in other ways… I’ll get there.
The Weird Friends Fan Club Page 10