by Cat Clarke
‘Um . . . thanks.’ My insides were crawling with embarrassment.
‘Now why don’t you get out of here and let me cry in peace, eh?’ She smiled and it was warm. Definitely warm. She certainly didn’t look like she was about to cry again.
‘Are you going to be OK? What are you . . . what’s the matter?’ One compliment from Sasha and I was suddenly all concerned about her.
Sasha shook her head and went back to staring in the mirror. ‘I’ll be fine. I’ll be just fine.’ It looked like she was trying to convince her reflection as much as me.
I left her there, looking at herself. No goodbye. No ‘well, this has been lovely’. Not even a ‘please stay away in future, this is MY space, not yours’.
I replayed the conversation in my head for the rest of the day and I kept on coming back to one, unbelievable thing: Sasha Evans had been nice to me. Sort of.
A tiny kernel of an idea popped into my head that night, but I dismissed it immediately. It would be impossible, surely? But I kept on coming back to the fact that Sasha Evans, the most popular girl in school, had talked to me. I had Kai and Mum to thank for that. For one thing, I’d never have been in the science-block toilets if it wasn’t for my new-found vanity.
It would be so much easier to get back at Stu and the others if I wasn’t such a loner, such an outsider. I kept thinking, WHAT IF . . . ?
What if it was possible for me to somehow become friends with Sasha Evans?
What if she introduced me to the rest of her hideous friends?
What if I was able to get my revenge on Stu, Lucas and Bugs from the inside, and hurt them all the more because of it?
What if . . . ?
chapter twenty
Jem,
January. The rubbishest month of the year. Nobody likes Jannuary, do they? It’s all post-Christmas doom and gloom and it’s always cold and dark and depressing. Still, there’s only a few days left, so let’s look on the bright side.
I bet you’ve been dreading what I was going to ask you to do this month. Well, fear not, I thought I’d give you the month off ... mostly because I don’t want you to hate me! Just one thing though ... you haven’t talked to Lol yet, have you? If you have, Please accept my humble apologies. But if you haven’t, please just check on her. For me. She’s not as bad as you think. She’s not as bad as SHE
Ooh, I’ve just realiszed that Valentine’s Day is coming up! And you know how much we ADORE Valentine’s Day. The avalanche of cards through the letter box. The flowers, the chocolates, the candlelit dinners! Be still, my beating heart. I wouldn’t be surprised if you got a card or two this year, what with your fancy new hair and all. If you do, please don’t rip them up. And go easy on the poor boy (or girl!). It takes guts to put yourself out there like that. Unless of course the card is anonymous, in which case whoever sent it is lame and not worthy of your affections.
Anyway, if you don’t happen to get any cards, might I suggest an all-night horror-movie marathon to cheer yourself up? I do hope you’re continuing our fine tradition is my absence? I’d tell you to watch Halloween on Valentine’s Day, but I’m nothing if not true to my word- no silly missions this month. This is merely a suggestion, you understand. (But you really SHOULD watch it ... you know full well nothing cheers you up quite like some empty-headed girls getting chased through a dark house by a psychopath with a big knife.)
Same time next month, yes?
Kai
xxx
This time I threw down the letter in annoyance. How did he know? How could he possibly know that I wouldn’t have talked to Louise. At least, not like he wanted me to.
I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t do it. I even had a semi-decent excuse: I hardly saw her any more. Max and Louise never seemed to be with the others in the cafeteria. At first I’d assumed it was a blip, that Team Popular would be back to full strength ASAP. But then I began to wonder if there was more to it. Mum was the one who ended up supplying the solution to this little mystery.
She broached the subject at the dinner table one day, which I thought was spectacularly poor timing. Noah didn’t need to hear that kind of stuff; it was hard enough for him to understand that Kai was gone. Mum dabbed at her mouth with her napkin and cleared her throat. That’s how I knew she was going to say something annoying.
‘So . . . Jem, have you seen much of Louise at school?’
I shrugged and speared another piece of slightly overcooked rigatoni. Noah was taking the opportunity to hide his veg under a small mound of pasta. He tried this almost every night; it never worked.
‘Janice said she’s in a pretty bad way, you know.’
‘Yeah?’ I couldn’t have sounded any less interested.
‘Janice says she barely leaves her room these days. She’s cut herself off from all her friends, Janice said – apart from that boyfriend of hers. You know she’s been in counselling? Twice a week, apparently. It doesn’t seem to be helping yet, but you can’t expect these things to work overnight. There’s no miracle cure, is there?’ She fell into silence and then shook herself like she remembered that she had actually had a point that she wanted to make after all. ‘You know, it might be nice if you invited her over sometime. You’ve been coping so well . . . really getting on with things. I thought it might help if you talked to her.’
I looked at Dad for help, but he was busy adding yet more salt to his pasta. I wanted to remind Mum that Louise and I were not friends – and hadn’t been for years. But she knew that and clearly thought it was irrelevant. I was angry that she thought I was coping so well. I was angry that every time she asked how I was, I said ‘fine’ and she actually believed me. I was so fucking angry. But for once I wasn’t interested in causing a scene. She meant well. I just had to keep telling myself that. Over and over again until I believed it.
‘Yeah, I’ll do that.’
Dad stopped with the salt-shaking and Noah stopped with the broccoli-burying and Mum stopped breathing. Me not being an awkward, snarky bitch was a massive deal, obviously. They’d better get used to it, because I fully intended on being a semi-reasonable, mostly nice daughter and sister for the next nine months. It was the least I could do.
The news about Louise was interesting. It made me wonder if the counselling made things even a tiny bit better for her. It made me wonder why Mum hadn’t suggested counselling for me. It did not make me want to reach out to Louise. Not even a little bit.
Soon after the Louise news, it was clear that Team Popular had drafted in a replacement from the subs bench. Nina was blonde and pretty and pointless. A former conquest of Stu’s, if the rumours were to be believed (and I always believed the rumours). There was no Max replacement though. Suitable boys were obviously harder to come by.
I was glad I didn’t have to see Louise every day. I could just about cope with passing her in the corridor once or twice a week. But her retreat into depression or whatever meant I was spared that punch-in-the-gut daily reminder of Kai. As if I needed reminding.
Seeing Mr and Mrs McBride was even worse than seeing Louise. My parents had them over a few times and I hid in my room, plugged into my iPod so I wouldn’t even have to hear them. I wouldn’t budge, even when Mum begged me to come down and say hello, even when she hissed that I was being selfish and I should think about someone other than myself for a change.
The one time I did see them (because they arrived early and I was still in the kitchen gathering supplies for the evening) I couldn’t believe the change. They looked terrible; shadowy and beaten. Mr McBride had lost weight. Kai always said his dad could do with losing a few pounds, but he’d never have dreamed it would happen like this. Mrs McBride hugged me and I thought she was never going to let go.
The McBrides were going through the motions of their lives. Even smiling and joking occasionally, but you could tell that something inside them had funamentally changed. Their hearts had been ripped out in the cruellest way imaginable.
I tried my very best to ignore the thought tha
t I would be doing the exact same thing to my parents. Except this would be worse, because I’d seen the pain and anguish first-hand. I’d lived it.
chapter twenty-one
I nearly choked on my apple the day Sasha sat down next to me in the cafeteria. At least she didn’t sit in his chair. I’m not sure what I’d have done if she’d sat in his chair.
It was a good couple of weeks since we’d talked in the toilets, and I was beginning to think we’d never get any further than random hellos and half-smiles in the corridors. But as soon as she sat with me – looking like it was the most normal thing in the world – that was when I knew. For some inexplicable reason this girl wanted to be friends with me. She was playing right into my hands and she had no clue.
‘Hey, Jem, how’s it going?’ Every movement Sasha made was graceful, and I wondered if that was something I could work on or whether it was something you had to be born with. She smoothed down her already very smooth hair and started nibbling on a slice of cucumber. All she had on her plate was salad and a Diet Coke, of course. Suddenly I wished that my ketchup-splattered plate would disappear. At least you couldn’t tell it had been home to a mountain of chips only a few minutes ago.
‘Hey. It’s going . . . fine, I guess.’ I put down my apple, knowing better than to try to eat and talk at the same time. I looked over at her usual table, but none of them were looking this way. They all seemed absorbed in watching Stu do something disgusting with his food.
‘Good, good. You don’t mind me sitting here, do you? It’s just Stu kind of puts me off my lunch sometimes.’
I shrugged. ‘I don’t mind. I was just finishing up anyway.’
‘Oh? Stay a while, will you? Keep me company so I’m not sitting here like Billy-no-mates.’ She grimaced and looked truly ugly, if only for a fraction of a second. ‘Sorry! I wasn’t implying that you don’t have any friends . . . you know that, don’t you? You’ve got that whole mysterious who-needs-friends-anyway vibe going on, whereas I’ve got that desperate needs-to-be-around-people-all-the-time thing happening. I know which I’d prefer.’
This was bizarre. She seemed really worried that she’d offended me. Surely people like her were put on earth to offend people like me. I didn’t know what to say so I shrugged.
She laughed. ‘You’re just too cool for school, aren’t you?’
I shrugged again, but this time I couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Yeah, too cool for school, that’s me.’
The ice was broken, and while I didn’t exactly feel at ease, my guard came down a little and I was able to talk to her without thinking I sounded like a complete moron. We didn’t talk about anything in particular. Sasha’s conversational technique was to flit from subject to subject like a butterfly. Sometimes the changes of direction were so random it was hard for my brain to keep track. We talked about teachers we had in common (a safe topic), the food in the cafeteria (still safe), Stu (not so safe) and even (now this is the really weird one) the fact that she was thinking about breaking up with Lucas. I had no idea why she would want to talk to me about something so personal, but I was going to run with it. Sasha confiding in me was exactly what I wanted, but that didn’t stop it from freaking me out.
‘Why would you break up with Lucas?’ The incredulity in my voice was obvious.
Sasha leaned forward in her chair and I did the same. ‘It’s not that I don’t like him. I mean, of course I like him.’ Like him? I thought they were Romeo and bloody Juliet or something. ‘It’s just . . . I don’t exactly enjoy only being known as Lucas Mahoney’s girlfriend, you know? I swear that’s all people know about me. I’m sick of it.’
‘But . . . he’s Lucas Mahoney. Most girls would kill to be his girlfriend.’
A sly smile from Sasha. ‘You included?’
‘No! I . . . no.’
The sly smile spread into a full-on grin. ‘Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Jem! You’re right though – I’ve seen the way the girls here look at me. They hate me.’
‘They don’t . . .’
‘Yeah, they do. And don’t think I never noticed the evil glares you’ve been giving me for the past year or so.’
How could she . . . ? I’d never even seen her look my way – not once. People like Sasha Evans did not notice people like me. They just didn’t. I felt embarrassed. Exposed.
‘It’s OK, Jem. Really. So anyway, I thought I might try not being Lucas Mahoney’s girlfriend for a while. See if that makes a difference. I want to stay friends with him . . . I really do. It’s not like I think he’s going to be devastated or anything. Lately it’s been feeling more like friends with benefits than anything else, so maybe we can just move on to being friends without benefits?’
There was a question mark there and Sasha seemed to want something from me. The thing she wanted – the thing we all want, really – was validation. ‘Yeah, maybe.’
Sasha nodded slightly, then followed it up with a more convincing nod. It looked as if she’d made up her mind.
‘You’re really good to talk to, you know that?’
I didn’t laugh, even though I really wanted to. If I was Sasha’s definition of someone who was good to talk to, then God help her. I would have almost felt sorry for her if she didn’t happen to be one of the founding members of Team Popular.
That was the day the Plan crystallized; for the first time I thought there was a chance I could really do it. I knew it wouldn’t happen overnight, and it wouldn’t be easy (or fun), but it seemed possible at least.
I guess the Plan had been floating around in my brain, just out of reach, since that incident in the loos. But this was the day I managed to grab hold of it with both hands. The Plan started with befriending Sasha. Do whatever it took to make her like me. Do whatever it took to make me think I was like her. Somehow become a part of Team Popular – even a very peripheral part. I just had to get closer to them. To Lucas and Bugs and Stu. Then I’d find a way to take them down for what they did to Kai. By the time I was finished with them, they’d know exactly how it felt to be humiliated.
It was easy enough to ignore the little voice telling me this was precisely what Kai didn’t want me to do. I just had to remember that Kai was (very occasionally) wrong about things and this happened to be one of those times.
Admittedly there were a few things I hadn’t exactly thought through. Like the fact that just because Sasha seemed to not hate me, it didn’t mean the others would feel the same way. And the fact that these people made me really, really nervous, and how was I ever going to pretend to be one of them? And the Stu problem. And I had no idea what I was actually going to do to them. Yeah, there were a fair few details that had to be ironed out.
I was sure that Amber wouldn’t be a problem – as long as Sasha was cool with me, she would be too. Same deal for Bugs, probably. Nina should be OK, being such a newbie herself. King Lucas would be tricky though. And there was no point even thinking about Stu right now. That particularly nasty troll-infested bridge would be crossed when I came to it. I was in this for the long haul. As long as it takes.
People saw me differently now because of the hair and make-up. That was the first step. The new look needed time to bed in – enough time for people to start forgetting the old me. Since most of them had never even noticed the old me I didn’t think it would take long. It really was that simple – a new look and people thought you were a different person. They thought you were one of them. People really are that shallow. It made me sick.
Next stop was the clothes. It shouldn’t have surprised me that Kai mentioned that particular subject in his next letter. Somehow he was managing to facilitate a plan he’d had no idea about – a plan to do the very thing he’d expressly begged me not to do. It’s funny (not really) how things work out.
I opened the letter on 23 February. Needless to say, Valentine’s had come and gone with zero admirers, secret or otherwise. I had watched Halloween though. And it had made me feel a little better, especially when I thought about Kai pretending to
hide behind a cushion every time Michael Myers popped out from behind a hedge.
Jem,
Ah, February! Like January, but mercifully shorter. You’re getting there though, inching your way towards spring. Everything seems better in springtime, don’t you think? The air is full of promise and the lambs are frolicking in the fields and what not. Everybody likes a bit of frolicking now and again.
I can’t help thinking about Mum’s birthday. I hope So I let you off last month, because that’s the kind of guy I am. But you didn’t honestly think I was going to go easy on you this month too, did you? (Cue evil laugh.) This month is all about SHOPPING! Your very favourite thing, right?! SHOPPING! Are the capital letters sufficient to ignite a tiny spark of excitement somewhere deep within you? No? Ah well, you can’t blame a chap for trying.
It’s simple. All you have to do is go into town on Saturday and go into That Shop. You know the one, so don’t even pretend you don’t. Remember that time you said you’d rather stick toothpicks in your eyeballs than go inside? Well, I’m here to tell you that I’ve been in there and it’s really not as bad as you think. Lol loves it, and so does pretty much every girl in the known universe. But you have to be different, don’t you? And that’s why I love you so much. This is just a bit of fun, OK? No need to freak out about me trying to change you or whatever it is you’re thinking right now. I’m merely attempting to open your mind. Not that I think you’re narrow-minded... but you can be just a teensy bit judgemental sometimes. And I like judgemental. Judgemental can be fun. But so is trying new things once in a while. Trust me.
Your mission is to go into That Shop and buy something. Don’t think you can get away with a bracelet or some underwear or something, because that doesn’t count. You have to buy something you would absolutely not wear in the course of your everyday life. It has to be colourful (and no, grey is not going to cut it this time). Ideally it would be a dress but that’s probably pushing my luck somewhat, so I’m thinking a top maybe. No sleeves. And if it could show a hint of cleavage, all the better. Nothing too expensive though - I don’t want to bankrupt you.