It was called ‘Homesickness’.
Oh! thought Zoe. Isabelle’s homesick? I never would have guessed!
‘What are you looking at?’ Isabelle asked. She must have been chewing her hair again, because the end of her ponytail was soggy.
‘Nothing,’ said Zoe, looking away.
‘Good. You should mind your own business.’
She might be homesick, thought Zoe. But she’s still mean.
She went out to the locker room to pack her bag for home. She thought she’d got everything and was halfway across the playground to meet up with Max and her mum, when she remembered that she had left her diary behind. She’d have to go back and get it.
She ran back into the locker room, trying to hurry so she didn’t keep her mum waiting. She was in such a hurry, she didn’t notice at first that she wasn’t alone.
There was someone else in the room.
Oh no! thought Zoe. Isabelle! Well, I won’t say anything to her, and she will hopefully leave me alone, too.
But then she heard something amazing.
Isabelle was crying.
What should Zoe do? Should she pretend she couldn’t hear Isabelle crying? What would she say, anyway?
Then Zoe had an idea. I could show her what it’s like, she thought. I could say,‘What a crybaby you’ve turned out to be!’
After a whole week of being picked on, Zoe felt like it would be nice to pay Isabelle back a bit …
But she knew her dad was right.
Although it was fun to imagine, Zoe didn’t think she could really say any of the things she was thinking. Zoe didn’t like seeing people hurt or upset. To her surprise, that even included Isabelle. She stood awkwardly for a while and then went over to Isabelle’s locker.
‘Are you OK?’ she said.
‘Go away!’ said Isabelle, sniffing.
It was hard to be scared of her, though, when she sounded so sad. Zoe took a deep breath and stood as tall as she could. She was about to try something brave, and she wasn’t sure how it would turn out.
‘I’m sorry you’re unhappy,’ she said. ‘Is there anything I can do?’
Isabelle looked at her in surprise.
‘Why are you being so nice to me?’ she asked.
Zoe shrugged.
‘I hate it here,’ Isabelle blurted out. ‘I miss my old school, and nobody here cares about me.’
‘What do you mean?’ said Zoe, amazed. ‘Everyone here is your friend.’ She took another deep breath. ‘Even I would be, if you let me,’ she added.
‘You! Why would you want to be my friend?’
It was hard to come up with a good answer straight away. Honestly, Zoe wasn’t 100 per cent sure she really did want to be Isabelle’s friend right now. But then she thought about what school had been like before Isabelle came, when everyone got on.
‘It’s better if we’re all friends, don’t you think?’ she said, at last. ‘No-one should be left out.’
Isabelle blinked and sniffed. Then she stuck out her chin and said, ‘Are you going to tell everyone you saw me cry?’
‘Of course not!’ said Zoe.‘I would never do that.’
‘Well, OK, then,’ said Isabelle, smiling very slightly.
Zoe thought it was the first real smile she had seen on Isabelle’s face.
‘So,’ said Zoe. ‘Friends?’
Isabelle nodded. A tiny nod, but a nod all the same. Zoe was relieved.
‘I’ll see you on Monday,’ said Isabelle. ‘I’d better go. My mum’s probably waiting for me.’
‘Oh no!’ said Zoe, grabbing her diary. ‘I forgot! My mum’s waiting too!’
She waved goodbye and started to run back to meet Max and her mum. She had just left the locker room and started sprinting for the stairs when she heard Mr Mack call her name behind her.
Uh-oh, thought Zoe. Caught running in the hallway.
But Mr Mack was not cross with her.
‘I heard all that,’ he said, as Zoe walked back to him. ‘Your conversation with Isabelle, I mean. The last couple of days have been hard for you, haven’t they?’
Zoe shrugged, embarrassed. She didn’t think anyone had noticed.
‘But still you were kind to Isabelle just then. You could have left her feeling miserable, but instead you made a new friend. I’m proud of you, Zoe.’
Zoe was so pleased, she didn’t know what to say. She blushed and then said, awkwardly, ‘Um, thanks. I’ve got to go. Mum’s waiting in the car.’
‘Off you go, then,’ said Mr Mack. ‘Have a good weekend!’
Zoe ran through the school as fast as her legs could carry her.
This is still my place, she thought. I still belong here. And I did it! Wait till I tell Dad. I stood tall!
That evening, Iris called Zoe.
‘Um, Zoe? It’s Iris.’
‘Hi, Iris,’ said Zoe, carefully.
‘I just spoke to Isabelle …’
‘Yeah?’
‘She said you were really nice to her, and she felt bad about how mean she’s been to you.’
‘Oh, right,’ said Zoe, wondering what was going on.
‘I’m really sorry too,’ said Iris. ‘I got all caught up in being friends with Isabelle and I pretended I didn’t notice how horrible she was to you. I was a bad friend, and I don’t blame you if you’re mad with me.’
The funny thing was, even though Zoe had been very angry with Iris, as soon as she said she was sorry, Zoe forgave her entirely. She just wanted to be friends again.
‘I really missed you, Zoe.’
‘I missed you, too,’ said Zoe.
Next Monday morning, Zoe felt nervous and excited at the same time. What if Isabelle had changed her mind over the weekend and decided to keep on being mean to Zoe?
There was only one way to find out, but Zoe couldn’t stand the suspense.
As her mum pulled up outside the school gates, Zoe could see Iris and Isabelle sitting together on a bench, talking. Zoe bit her nails nervously.
‘Are you getting out?’ asked her mum.
‘I suppose so,’ said Zoe.
Oh well, she thought. I can always go back to the sick bay.
She picked up her bag and got out of the car. She walked over to the others. Isabelle was chewing her hair, looking like she was waiting for something bad to happen. When she saw Zoe, she gave a little jump and then stood up.
‘Hi, Zoe,’ she said shyly. ‘Um, I have something for you. I made it with my mum yesterday.’
As Isabelle went to her bag, Zoe looked at Iris. Iris smiled, but didn’t say anything. Isabelle brought out a plastic lunchbox and handed it to Zoe.
‘Here,’ she said.
Zoe pulled off the lid. Inside was a square cake, about the size of a very fat sandwich. It had thick chocolate icing with ‘SORRY, ZOE’ spelt out across the top in tiny, blue sugar stars.
‘It’s a mud cake,’ said Isabelle. ‘My mum baked it, but I decorated it myself.’
‘It’s great!’ said Zoe. ‘When can we eat it?’
‘It’s all for you,’ said Isabelle. ‘You can eat it whenever you like. You can even keep the lunchbox, if you want –’
‘Oh, no,’ said Zoe. ‘We should definitely eat it together. And in fact, we should eat it right now!’
‘Zoe!’ laughed Iris. ‘We’ve only just had breakfast!’
‘So?’ said Zoe. ‘This is a special cake. I don’t think we should wait around.’
Iris and Isabelle didn’t need much convincing. Zoe cut the cake into three rectangles, using the ruler from her geometry set as a knife.
Quick as anything, before the bell rang for class, they each took a piece and scoffed the lot!
It really was the most delicious cake. Zoe couldn’t think of a better way to start a brand-new week. A new beginning with the new girl, making up with Iris, plus the tastiest chocolate mud cake, too.
The New Girl
published in 2013 by
Hardie Grant Egmont
; Ground Floor, Building 1, 658 Church Street
Richmond, Victoria 3121, Australia
www.hardiegrantegmont.com.au
eISBN 9781743580073
This ebook is also available as a print edition in all good bookstores.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means without the prior permission of the publishers and copyright owner.
A CiP record for this title is available from the National Library of Australia
Text copyright © 2006 Rowan McAuley
Illustration and design copyright © 2013 Hardie Grant Egmont
Illustration by Aki Fukuoka
Design by Michelle Mackintosh
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The New Girl Page 3