Not Pretty Enough

by Jaimie Admans

  “I don’t know.”

  “Oh, come on, Lloyd. It’s a thousand quid for the NSPCC. Or whatever charity you want. You did say that you help with fundraising.”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “And we’d probably get to miss a few maths lessons.”

  “All right, I’m in,” he says, suddenly smiling at me.

  “Brilliant.” I resist the urge to hug him.

  “When are the first tryouts?”

  I look at my watch. “How about right now? We have three quarters of an hour left.”

  “Okay then.” He jumps up. “You go and round up your form, I’ll go and get mine.”

  He grabs a permission slip and goes to leave.

  “Oh, and Chessie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “This is a really nice thing you’re doing.”

  I knew he’d be impressed.

  Here’s the thing about basketball – it’s a lot harder than it looks. Not that I’m actually playing it or anything crazy like that. I’m just standing on the sidelines watching Lloyd, and feeling like a bit of a spare part. He’s running it like some sort of military operation, yelling at people left, right and centre. Yes if you can come back for a second tryout during lunchtime. No if you are so bad that you should never set foot inside a gym ever again. We don’t have time for this. I wish he’d just get a group of boys together and teach them how to get the ball into the net instead of all this time wasting.

  Debs is lying on a mat, looking worried about runaway balls aiming straight for her head, and designing flyers for cheerleading tryouts that we’re holding in the gym tomorrow lunchtime. I figure we need five cheerleaders in total, Debs is one and I’ll be a back up in case one of them breaks a neck or something. So we only need four more girls. Should be simple, right? Now I just have to put together a routine and teach five girls to do a pyramid thing like they do in Bring It On. Oh, and make sure Lloyd can make these boys into a winning team in under three weeks time, when the only reason half of them have even come here today is because they’ve heard the team will get a Monday off school the weekend of the tournament.

  The problem with cheerleading is that I’ve watched every Bring It On movie over and over again, and I still have no idea what to do. The good side is that every girl in the school, and the occasional boy, wants to be a cheerleader. When I say everybody, I mean even Leigh Marlow. I’m so surprised to see her in the queue the following lunchtime that I nearly fall out of my seat. At first I think that she’s here to play some kind of practical joke on me or try to embarrass me some more, but no, it seems she’s here for the auditions like everybody else.

  It’s unbelievable how many girls want to be cheerleaders. When we walk into the gym at lunchtime I think that Miss Raine must have forgotten we were using it and given the space to some other class. But no, eventually I establish that the queues of girls are here to be cheerleaders. I can’t work out if it’s because they want to be like the girls in the movies, or if it’s because they think it’ll make them popular, or because it’s a good way to keep fit, or if it’s simply because they might actually want to cheer our basketball team on. It’s a shame we only need four, to be honest, but I don’t dare to try anything more complicated than that. Maybe if this all goes well we could build up a huge cheerleading squad and start working for the football and hockey teams as well.

  Debs and I sit in the gym at lunchtime and worry that we’re not going to get through all the people before the hour is up. But I do know one thing. The highlight of my day is going to be turning down Leigh Marlow. Nobody ever says no to Leigh Marlow. But we’re going to. Okay, so it will probably make her hate me even more, but I don’t care. Leigh probably thinks that it’s guaranteed she’s going to get on the cheerleading squad, but she’s not.

  After the first few girls have tried out, our friend Ceri is in and Laurie from our class who is excellent at sports and technology is in. Only two more to find and half an hour to go.

  I hate to admit it, but when Leigh and her friend try out, they’re actually pretty good. In fact, they’re really good.

  “Sorry, no,” I yell. “Next!”

  “What did you say to me?” Leigh asks, coming up close.

  “I said, sorry Leigh, but you’re not good enough to be on our team.”

  It feels so good.

  “I’m the best you’re ever going to find here.”

  “Maybe,” I admit. “But you’re not good enough for me, and this is my team. I’ll take my chances with finding someone nicer – oops – I mean better, obviously.”

  “I don’t believe you have the nerve.” She snorts. “I thought you of all people would know better by now. Just you wait. I won’t forget this.”

  “Elephants never do,” I mutter as she stalks out of the gym.

  Yes, I know I’ve probably just made the whole situation with Leigh ten times worse, but it was worth it just to see the look on her face when someone actually turned her down for something. She would have made an excellent cheerleader, but being a team is about working well together, and I’m fairly sure the only people who Leigh will ever work well with are the ones who worship her, and that will never be us.

  We eventually find two more girls who can star jump and high kick like the best of them, Beth and Mel, from 10A. That’s our team – Debs, Ceri, Laurie, Beth and Melanie. With me as a reserve.

  You know, I think we can do this.

  CHAPTER 30

  December.

  “Will you sign this form for me?” I ask mum while she’s making dinner one night a couple of weeks later.

  “Why? What is it?”

  “I need your signature for permission to go to the basketball championship in Birmingham on Friday. I told you about it three weeks ago.”

  “Oh right, that.”

  “Yes, that. Here you go.” I hand her a pen and hold the paper out.

  “Sorry, Chessie. You’re still grounded.”

  “What do you mean I’m still grounded? I know I’m grounded, but I have to go to this thing in Birmingham, I’m the team coach. It’s not like it’s a fun activity, it’s a school thing.”

  “I phoned the school this afternoon and I had a nice little chat with Miss Raine, and she assured me that she and Mr Hursh will be accompanying the team and they are both perfectly accomplished coaches and that, as it turns out, Chessie, you’re not really needed. You can stay home and help me clean out the garage this weekend. After that, I might think about letting you go out again.”

  “Are you saying I can’t go?” I ask, a lump springing to my throat.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “But you can’t… I can’t… I have to go. I’m supposed to be sitting next to Llo— Debs,” I amend myself quickly.

  “I’m sure Debs will manage to find someone else to sit next to.”

  “I have to go,” I say again. “I’m the reserve cheerleader. If someone falls or anything they need me to stand in.”

  “Miss Raine assured me that it’s a very safe routine, and that even if one of them did need replacing, it doesn’t really matter whether there are five or four anyway.”

  “Of course it matters. You can’t do this to me. I told you about it weeks ago and you said I could go.”

  “I said I’d think about it.”

  “That’s the same thing.”

  “It’s not, Chess.”

  “It’s for a good cause,” I say helplessly. “It’s all for charity. Did Miss Raine tell you that if we win we’ll be donating a thousand pounds to help abused children? Did she tell you it was all my idea and we wouldn’t even be going if it wasn’t for me?”

  “Yes, she told me. She also told me that they’ll win with or without you.”

  Talk about way to make a girl feel special. It’s like the whole world is out to scupper any chance I may have with Lloyd Layton ever again.

  “You can’t do this to me.”

  “Do you think it’s okay to go around tellin
g people that your stepfather – who doesn’t exist, by the way – is beating you up? What about what you did to me? What about the fact that I had the police and your headmaster all here thinking I was a child beater?”

  “I know it wasn’t okay, and I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m trying to make up for it. But you don’t need to take it out on the basketball team and the charities that will ultimately benefit. Punish me when I get back, by all means. I’ll help you clean out the garage next weekend. I’ll do it after school in the week. Please just let me go to this one thing. I promise I’ll stay grounded until Christmas if you just let me go this weekend.”

  “The answer is no, Chessie. The team will be fine without you.”

  “But I’m the motivator. I’m the coach.”

  “I’m sure two thousand pounds can motivate anyone without your help.”

  “But that’s… You can’t do this to me.” I know I’m whining but I can’t seem to stop myself. “I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks. Do you know how hard I’ve been working? We’ve been in that gym every morning before lessons and for an hour during lunchtime every single day. We’ve even been eating our lunch while running or cheering. You can’t just let all that go to waste.”

  “It’s not going to waste. I’m sure you’ve helped the others, and if you start behaving yourself then maybe you can go next year.”

  “Next year? But it isn’t even happening next year.”

  “That’s not my problem, Chessie.”

  “But, I—”

  “You should have thought about it before you landed your mother with a criminal record.”

  “But I didn’t even know about it then.” I’m perilously close to tears now. There has to be a way I can talk her round. There just has to.

  “That’s not an excuse.”

  “I’ll go anyway.” I suddenly feel defiant. “If you won’t sign then I’m going to fake your signature and go anyway.”

  “In that case I’ll phone Mr Sapsford right now and tell him that you are categorically not allowed to go on this trip, and that if you present him with a signed form, it is faked.”

  Crap. Why’d I have to open my big mouth?

  “I’ll find a way,” I say. “You can’t keep me here. That really is child abuse.”

  “Ever heard of double jeopardy, Chessie? You can’t be accused of the same crime twice.”

  “Why are you so intent on ruining my life?” I yell.

  “If missing one weekend trip with the school is going to ruin your life then maybe we should look into getting you some therapy.”

  “You’re the one who needs therapy!” I’m really shouting now. “You don’t ever want me to get a boyfriend, you just want me to stay here forever and be your little garage cleaning girl, but I won’t. I’ll never clean out the damn garage for you now.”

  “Well, I hope they don’t have any more school trips for you to miss anytime soon, because if you’re going to be like that about it then you won’t be going on the next one either.”

  “Arrrrrrgh!” I storm out and slam the door hard behind me. The pictures rattle on the wall and I wish they’d fall down and break.

  Why is she doing this to me? I hate her, I hate my life, and I hate the fact that I’m not stunningly beautiful or beautifully smart. I wish Lloyd Layton would look at me just once and not be repulsed. I wish I could get him to talk to me and not leave with a look of utter revulsion on his face.

  I wanted to go to Birmingham with him, and I wanted us to win, and I wanted him to thank me and realise that I am sorry for lying to him, and more than anything, I want him to kiss me.

  She can’t do this to me.

  She can, as it turns out. Quite easily, actually. I’ve spent the weekend in my bedroom, on a hunger strike in protest, and my mother has completely ignored the fact that her daughter might be withering away to nothing while she stuffs her face downstairs. Okay, so withering away is putting it a bit dramatically. In fact, I haven’t lost so much as a pound. Stupid metabolism.

  “Hey,” Debs says as we walk to the bus stop on Tuesday morning. The basketball team were still travelling back yesterday so they missed a day of school. “Did your mum give you the message?”

  “No. What message?”

  “I called last night,” she says. “To give you the news.”

  “Oh yeah. Sorry, I didn’t feel like coming to the phone.”

  “That’s okay.”

  “What news?”

  “We won.”

  “You did? That’s… um… fantastic,” I say quietly. To be honest, I can’t really get myself excited about it anymore. How can you be happy about something you were supposed to be at the centre of and now aren’t involved in at all?

  “I wish you could have come,” Debs says. “It was so great. We sneaked into the boys room in the middle of the night and ordered loads of room service and had a slumber party. You would have enjoyed it so much. Lloyd was even there with his shirt off. He was in a really good mood and was dancing and everything. He even danced with me.”

  Great. If I cry now I’m going to have a red blotchy face by the time we get to school.

  “Oh. Sorry,” Debs says when she notices the look on my face. “I mean, it was horrible, obviously. No fun at all. You didn’t miss anything.”

  “Nice try.” I swallow hard.

  “We missed you. Lloyd said that you should have been there.”

  “I’m sure he did,” I say sarcastically.

  “No, he really did, Chess. His exact words were, ‘this whole thing was Chessie’s idea, it seems wrong that they didn’t let her come too.’”

  “Thanks, Debs, but I’m not a complete idiot. I’m surprised Lloyd even remembers my name.”

  “It’s true,” she says. “You should ask him.”

  “I think you were right before,” I say as we reach the bus stop. “I’ve wasted enough energy on this. It’s time to leave Lloyd Layton alone for good.”

  “You’re giving up? That’s not like you.”

  I shrug. “Debs, I’ve spent an entire year trying to get this boy to like me, and it hasn’t worked yet. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. It shouldn’t be this hard to get a boyfriend, even when you’re as ugly as I am. I’m going to forget about him, concentrate on my work for a change, see if I can get some A+ marks instead of Bs and Cs.”

  “You’re not ugly,” she says. “And you’re smart enough to be in Set One for everything.”

  “Yeah, but that’s because I got sixty or sixty one percent on my exams, not because I’m good at the subject. Not because I’m like Ewan who is in Set One because he got ninety-something percent on his exams and an A+ for every single piece of work in his books. I’m not good enough to be in Set One for most of my subjects, so I need to either work harder or go through the embarrassment of being dropped a set, and don’t you think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one year?”

  Debs laughs. “It hasn’t been that bad.”

  “No, between dyeing my hair green, stabbing Lloyd with a javelin, and getting him to think I was being abused, I think it’s gone rather well.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re a great girl. Lloyd would be lucky if he deserved you.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I say. “You’re a great friend, but maybe we should concentrate on finding you a boyfriend instead.”

  “Oh no. You know I have my eyes on one boy only, and he’d never go for me.”

  “You don’t know that. He’s always hanging around with us. He must like you.”

  “He hangs around with us because we’re all friends and sometimes his mates go to play scary, energetic sports and you know how much he hates them.”

  “It’s not just because of that.”

  She laughs. “Come on, Chess. Ewan doesn’t look at me like that and you know it.”

  “Well, I’m giving up on Lloyd Layton. Maybe it’s time for me to pass the torch onto you. I failed at my mission, now it’s your turn. I have
some spare hair dye you can have if you want.”

  She laughs.

  Maybe my new mission should be to help Debs with her boy problem. She’s put up with enough stuff about Lloyd from me this year.

  By the time we get to school the entire student body is buzzing about the basketball win. There are notices pinned everywhere saying that there is a special lunch today in the main hall, for all those involved in the basketball team so the principal can present the cheque to a representative of the charity.

  “You should come,” Debs says. “You were involved even if you didn’t make it to the game.”

  “No,” I say. “That’s for you lot, not me. Besides, I don’t want my nose rubbed in it. I don’t want to know how much fun you all had without me.”

  “Come to the lunch, Chess. I hear there’ll be a big cake. You like cake.”

  “No,” I say. “I’ll start as I mean to go on. I’ll eat my lunch and do some homework early.”

  “Suit yourself,” she says. “But nobody will mind you being there. Even Sapsford knows the whole thing was your idea.”

  “It’s okay. I just want to forget about it and get on with the rest of term.”

  CHAPTER 31

  I’m on my own at lunchtime. The only people I spend lunchtimes with are all at their fabulous luncheon, along with Lloyd and the rest of the team.

  I sit on the picnic benches outside our form room, chewing on my cheese salad roll and doing the Welsh homework that I should’ve done last night. Trying to, anyway. All I’m really thinking about is how to make Ewan and Debs realise that they both like each other. It’s painfully obvious to me, the way he’s always trying to find excuses to touch her, like a pat on the shoulder or a friendly hug. He lets her copy his homework without even asking, and yet Debs is still oblivious.

  “I brought you something.”

  I jump when I hear Lloyd’s voice and look up to see him in the process of sitting down across the table from me. God, if I just stretch my leg out a little bit my foot would be touching him.

  No. Stop it. I don’t care about Lloyd anymore, I care about schoolwork.