Katie's Secret Admirer

by Holly Webb

  David had rather shyly come up to her at the end of school and asked if she wanted to go.

  “It was really sweet, Mum, he looked as though he thought I might say no – he went all shy. But the party’s going to be brilliant, it’s a proper dance, with a DJ and everything. We can go, can’t we?”

  Listening to her, Katie suddenly felt like Becky had disappeared and she had two Annabels instead. It was very weird. Sweet, quiet, animal-loving Becky seemed to have been replaced by a changeling sister who wanted to talk about boys and discos. It helped a bit that Pixie, their little black cat, came in just then and weaved her way round Becky’s ankles, purring lovingly (she wouldn’t do that to anyone else in the family: they were more likely to get their toes bitten off). Katie huffed out through her nose – Valentine’s Day! There were nearly two weeks to go and she was sick to death of it already.

  Mum was disappointingly enthusiastic about the Valentine’s Ball, wanting Becky and Bel to tell her all the details. Katie listened irritably, waiting for a chance to break in and ask about her sleepover party.

  “Apparently they’re going to decorate the hall and everything, with loads of pink balloons—”

  “And silver streamer things,” Annabel put in.

  “Yes, and there’s a dress code, so you can’t wear your ratty trainers Katie!”

  “No trainers?” Katie’s voice dripped with disgust. “Oh, great, so now I have to wear my school shoes with my football shirt?”

  Mum looked confused. “I don’t think you can wear a football shirt, darling, not if it’s supposed to be smart.”

  “Annabel said I could,” Katie snapped back grumpily. She was amazed to see Becky and Annabel exchange smiling but slightly long-suffering glances over her head (or so they thought). What did they think they were doing? She did that – with Becky to express secret amusement at Annabel’s weirder ways, or with Annabel when Becky was being particularly mouse-ish.

  Annabel looked at her smugly. “That was before we agreed to your party idea. If we’re giving up our Valentine’s evening to come to that, then you can at least dress nicely the day before. Mum, Katie wants to have a sleepover on Valentine’s Day. Can we?”

  Annabel sounded slightly bored and contemptuous of the idea – as though a sleepover was somehow babyish compared to the real party on the Friday! When Katie and Megan had thought of it, the whole idea had seemed so grown-up and sophisticated, and now Annabel was making her sound like a sulky little girl as she prattled on to Mum. “Katie doesn’t really want to come on Friday, so we’re having the sleepover for her. No boys allowed.” Annabel giggled.

  “It’s not like that,” Katie burst out crossly. Even Mum’s understanding smile was rubbing her up the wrong way now. “Me and Megan were just getting sick of the way everyone’s obsessed with Valentine’s Day, that’s all. We thought it would be cool to do something totally different. You don’t have to come!”

  “We want to,” Becky assured her. “It sounds good. Sleepovers are always fun. Please can we, Mum?”

  “Just you three and Megan, Saima and Fran?” Mum asked. The triplets nodded eagerly. “Fine by me, as long as you clear up.” Mum sounded quite happy with the plan, but Katie was left feeling as though her party had been hijacked – it wasn’t just a sleepover, it was a protest, and nobody was taking it seriously enough.

  As the triplets walked to school on Tuesday morning, Katie’s cross mood seemed to have settled in to stay. The weather didn’t help. A horrible cold drizzle was falling, and it felt as if it was seeping right through to her bones. Katie shook off the little lake that had dribbled down inside her hood, and kicked irritably at a puddle.

  “Hey!” Annabel snapped. “You’re splashing me, stop it!”

  Katie stalked on ahead – her feet were soaked now, too, and she just wanted to get inside.

  Finally they reached the school, and flung themselves into their classroom. There was a smell of wet day hanging about – soaked coats were steaming on the radiators, umbrellas were dripping all over the floor, and groups of damp people were huddled up on the desks shivering together.

  Megan and Fran were sitting together, looking worriedly at Fran’s homework diary, which had been in a not-quite-closed pocket on the front of her rucksack. Fran carefully turned the limp pages, and sighed.

  “It might be OK if you put it on the radiator,” Megan suggested. “Oh, hi, you three! Isn’t it horrible out there?”

  “We’re soaked,” Katie agreed, dumping her bag on one of the chairs and feeling better at the sight of Megan’s cheerful face and bouncy red curls – which were even bouncier than usual, as the wet weather seemed to have sent them a bit mad.

  “Becky, look!” moaned Fran worriedly. “Do you think Miss Fraser will let me have a new one?” She waved the soggy book at her friend, and the cover started to detach itself from the pages.

  “Nope,” said Jack. He picked up the sad wet thing between finger and thumb and grinned. “You’ll have to wring it out and dry it with a hairdryer.” He winked at Robin who was watching from his desk.

  Becky was a bit more sympathetic. “Ignore him, Fran! I think Megan’s right, it’ll be fine if you leave it on the radiator for a while.”

  “You should put it under a pile of books,” Robin said, sounding rather nervous as he came closer and stood next to Katie.

  Everyone stared at him – what on earth was he talking about?

  Robin went a bit pink, and explained, “To stop it going all crinkly when it dries. My mum did that with a library book that my sister dropped in the bath.”

  “Did it work?” asked Fran anxiously.

  “Mostly. It took ages though – but that was a whole book.”

  “There you go then – put it in your locker with loads of stuff on top.” Katie grinned at Robin, which made him even pinker – problem solved. “Did anybody see the football on TV last night?” She and Robin plunged into a discussion of the match and Jack joined in – he loved talking football even though he wasn’t a brilliant player himself.

  They kept chatting until registration, listening to the rain making huge puddles in the playground. The others chipped in occasionally, but mostly talked about the Valentine’s Ball – again.

  “Are you going to that thing?” Katie asked the boys, in disgust.

  Jack shrugged. “Maybe. Oh, I’m not asking anybody to it, but I might just go – could be fun. What d’you reckon, Robin?”

  “Um, yeah. Are you going, Katie?”

  “They’re making me. I think it’s going to be awful though.”

  “Cool.” Robin seemed to realize that this was a slightly weird answer to what Katie had just said, because he went pink again and stared at his feet.

  Jack and Katie both gave him a bit of a funny look, but then Annabel broke in to ask Jack’s view on Saima’s new nail polish – she said they wanted a boy’s opinion. Jack stammered out something along the lines of not knowing anything about nail polish and caring less, but he wasn’t very convincing, especially when Saima fluttered her eyelashes at him, and all the girls, even Katie, giggled. That was when Jack and Robin decided it was definitely time to get back to their own table, as Miss Fraser was just coming in to do the register.

  “I know it’s in here somewhere!” It was later that morning and Katie was frantically rummaging through her rucksack, searching for her French exercise book. Mr Hatton, their fearsome French teacher, was due any minute, and his was not the kind of lesson you forgot a book for.

  “You didn’t leave it in your locker?” Megan asked, leaning over to look in the rucksack as well.

  “Don’t think so – no, I had it last night to look at that vocab we had to learn. Oh, please don’t let me have left it at home!” Katie had thrown practically the whole contents of her rucksack over the table by now, and was digging frantically at the bottom.

  “Here it is!
Oh, wow, I was really panicking.” She whisked the book out, bringing a piece of folded paper with it, then quickly stuffed everything else back in so as to have the table tidy before Mr Hatton arrived.

  “What’s that?” Megan asked, tweaking the paper that was sticking out of the book – she could see some writing that didn’t look like Katie’s.

  “No idea.” Katie pulled it out, unfolded it, and read it. Then she read it again, confused.

  YOU’RE BRILLIANT AT FOOTBALL.

  I REALLY LIKE YOU!

  She crumpled it up quickly, feeling totally embarrassed.

  “What is it?” asked Megan again, interestedly.

  “Nothing. Just something of Bel’s.”

  Megan nodded and turned the conversation to the impossibility of their French homework, and Katie managed to make some vaguely sensible answers. What on earth was going on? Was it some kind of joke? If it hadn’t been for the football thing she’d have supposed the note was meant for Annabel, but no one would write that to her.

  It was lucky that Mr Hatton was in a particularly good mood (for him, anyway) or he might have noticed that Katie really wasn’t concentrating on the class’s visit to the boulangerie. She really couldn’t have cared less how many croissants they were buying, all she could think about was that stupid note.

  “Are you OK?” whispered Megan, taking her life into her hands as Mr Hatton turned to write something on the board. “I think you just wrote down that the baker sold you an elephant.”

  Katie jumped, and realized that she’d better concentrate or she’d be in trouble. “Tell you at break,” she hissed. She really needed to talk about this to somebody, and preferably not someone who was obsessed with romance, which obviously cut out her sisters.

  It was still pouring down at breaktime, which made it a bit difficult for Katie and Megan to find anywhere private to talk. After discounting what seemed like most of the school because somebody else was already occupying it, they finally found an empty table in the library. They could talk here as long as they didn’t make enough noise to attract the attention of the librarian.

  “So what’s up?” murmured Megan. “Are you upset because of Becky and Bel being so stupid about boys and Valentine’s Day?” She tended to get right to the point.

  “No. Well, yes, that too. But – oh, just look at this!”

  Katie handed over the scrunched-up note, and sat back, watching Megan and worrying about what her plain-speaking mate would say. Suddenly she wished she had told Bel and Becky – at least she had a good idea how they’d react.

  Megan looked up, her eyes round with surprise. “Wow,” she said thoughtfully. “Have you got any idea who it’s from?”

  Katie shook her head, relieved – Megan hadn’t laughed at her, which was what she’d been dreading. “I haven’t a clue. I mean, who on earth would send it? To me?”

  Megan gazed down at the note doubtfully. “No idea.” She held the paper out, frowning. “Suppose you don’t recognize the handwriting?”

  “Nope.” Katie shook her head miserably. “And it just turned up in my rucksack – you saw me find it, in French this morning.”

  “But who could’ve slipped it into your bag without you noticing?”

  “I don’t know!” Katie almost wailed – but then she remembered where they were so it came out as a strangled whisper.

  Megan frowned down at the offending piece of paper. “I can’t think of any way to find out who it’s from. It’s just going to have to be a mystery.”

  “I suppose,” Katie muttered.

  The thing was, the words for now seemed to be hanging in the air at the end of Megan’s sentence.

  Chapter Five

  For the rest of the week, Katie guarded her rucksack like a starved Rottweiler, never letting it out of her sight, and practically baring her teeth at anyone who dared to brush past it. She got quite a few funny looks, but strangely, Becky and Annabel hardly seemed to notice. Annabel did ask her on Thursday why she was clutching her bag like it was going to run away, but that was about it. They were so taken up with the plans for the Valentine’s Ball that they didn’t have a lot of time for anything else, even strangely jumpy sisters.

  Becky, Fran and David had helped to make scenery for the school play the previous term, and when the art teacher, Mrs Cranmer, found out that she’d been lumbered with decorating the school hall for the party, she’d remembered how useful they’d been. She collared them in art on Wednesday.

  “We’ve got a budget of exactly nothing – you three were great with the scenery and I was wondering if you’d help out? In lunchtimes.”

  Becky nodded enthusiastically – painting the scenery had been loads of fun. She glanced hopefully at Fran and David, who were looking pleased. Suddenly Annabel nudged her, and mouthed, “Us too!” Saima was nodding urgently at Becky from her side of the table.

  “That would be great, Mrs Cranmer. But do you think my sister could help too? And Saima? She and Fran can draw some hearts and arrows and things, can’t you?”

  “Cupids with bows, stuff like that?” asked Annabel hopefully. She loved doing this kind of thing and it sounded brilliant.

  Mrs Cranmer looked delighted. “Excellent. This is such a relief – normally I’d get the Year Elevens to help, but they’re swamped with coursework. Thanks, all of you – see you in the art room at lunchtime!”

  All of this meant that Katie, who was really not that artistic and hadn’t wanted to join in, hardly saw her sisters, and when she did they were still so obsessed with pink and gold and heart-shaped cut-outs that she wished they’d stayed in the art room.

  Katie wasn’t sure whether or not to be grateful that there were no more notes – she really didn’t want another one, of course, but she felt completely on edge. Every time she opened her rucksack she felt like she had to hunt carefully through all her stuff to make sure there wasn’t another fateful note lurking somewhere inside. At least if there was it would put a stop to the suspense. She was worried that she was annoying Megan as well. Her friend was being really nice about the whole thing, but Katie felt like she hadn’t done anything all week except tear the whole note thing apart from every possible angle, and make Megan do it with her. It was as though Megan had to stand in for both Becky and Bel, and that meant a lot of listening. It was a relief when the weekend came and Katie was safely away from any note-writing boys.

  It was back to normal for this Saturday’s football training – no celebrities, just Mrs Ross and a lot of hard work. As usual, Mum dropped Katie off in the car. Katie grabbed her bag and leaned over to give her mum a kiss goodbye.

  “See you later, Mum!”

  “Hang on, darling, I thought I might come and watch.” Mrs Ryan uncoiled herself from the driving seat, and started to root through the junk in the back for her handbag.

  Katie stared at her. “Why? It’s just normal practice this time, not like last week.”

  “But it’s OK for parents to come and watch, isn’t it?” Mum had finally found all her stuff and was locking the car.

  “Well, yeah, but you’ve never wanted to come before.”

  Katie sometimes felt that it was hard enough getting her family to come to matches, let alone turn up to practice as well. It was one more reason why she really missed Dad – he’d have been there like a shot, but most of the time she just had to make do with his encouraging emails from Egypt. Katie shot several confused looks at Mum as they walked over to the playing fields, but she didn’t notice – she seemed to be gazing into space, smiling to herself.

  When they reached the pitch, she grinned at Katie. “Hadn’t you better go and get ready? Have a good time!” she said as she stationed herself at the edge of the field, and shrugged her scarf up further round her ears.

  Katie went off to find Megan and put her boots on, feeling more puzzled than ever.

  “Hi Katie! Wha
t’s your mum doing here?” Megan looked as surprised as Katie had been as she watched Mrs Ryan saying hello to her dad. He quite often came to watch practices – he was very keen on football and loved watching Megan play. The only problem was he tended to get a bit over-excited when (as he saw it) the referee had got it wrong.

  “Don’t ask me! I was saying goodbye to her like normal and she said she was coming to watch – I nearly died of shock. I mean, let alone that she’s never even thought about coming before, it’s raining!”

  It certainly was – only the most dedicated, football-loving parent would be out on such a grim morning. Katie was distinctly confused. Then it hit her – Mum was probably feeling sorry for her because of the whole Valentine’s Day thing! She thought Katie was feeling left out so she was making the effort to come to football. Huh, that must be it. Katie didn’t bother explaining this to Megan – it was too embarrassing.

  “We’d better go and warm up,” she said, putting irritating parents and sisters to the back of her mind for the moment.

  Mrs Ross arrived soon after, carrying a net of footballs and looking pleased with herself. She gathered the team together and explained what they’d be doing – focusing on passing. There was a small groan at this, as passing wasn’t exactly the most exciting way to spend the morning, however useful it was. Mrs Ross made a “calm down” gesture with her hands, and smiled round at them.

  “OK, OK, I know it’s a bit boring, but we’re going to finish up the session with a ten minutes each way game with the boys—” There was a chorus of appreciation at this, and the coach grinned. “I thought you’d be pleased. They’ll be keen to get their revenge after the fund-raising match last term, so you’ll have to do your best. OK! Pairs, please, and let’s get on with it.”

  (The girls had beaten the boys hollow at the fund-raising match, and raised enough money in ticket sales to buy their own, very cool strip, which Annabel had designed.)