Tell It to the Moon

by Siobhan Curham

  “OK.” Savannah forced a smile. “Have a great day, hon. I’ll let you know how the meeting goes.”

  Rose hugged Savannah tight. She felt so small and thin. “Don’t let the bastards get you down, Mom, OK?”

  “OK.” Savannah pulled her pack of cigarettes from the fruit bowl.

  “Can everyone get out their text books and turn to page fifty-seven, please.”

  As the History teacher, Mr Collier, tapped something into his laptop, Sky flicked through the pages of her book. It was the third lesson of the day. She felt as if she was being cooked alive by the sweltering central heating and her skin prickled from the constant stares of her classmates. She was exhausted from the sheer pressure of having to take so much in and not put a foot wrong. Her first three hours, four minutes of school had taught her two things. One: secondary schools were really noisy, especially between lessons, when the chatter and the chair-scraping reached eardrum-shattering proportions, and two: schools were like military-style boot-camps. The way the students all had to say “yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir” at every turn. The way they all had to keep to the left-hand side of the corridor when they were walking between lessons. The way some of the teachers would yell if anyone said the wrong thing in class. She didn’t get how this was supposed to make them want to learn. When she’d been home-schooled Liam always encouraged her to think for herself and question things. But here it seemed more about cramming as much information into their minds as possible, with no time for debate.

  Sky loosened her tie a fraction. She’d never had to wear a tie before and it felt as if she was being strangled. Cooked alive and strangled. It wasn’t a great combination. She looked at the clock on the wall. Forty-seven minutes until lunch break and then she’d finally be able to see Amber. They were doing quite a few of the same subjects but, because the school had no idea of Sky’s ability, she’d been put in lower sets. She thought about Amber in another classroom somewhere in this huge rabbit warren of harshly lit corridors. It was vaguely comforting to know that somewhere in this alien world there was another Moonlight Dreamer.

  Sky glanced at the girl sitting next to her. She was tall and thin with short black hair. Her skin was so pale it had a pale blue tinge.

  “I’m Vanessa,” the girl muttered, picking at a shred of loose skin by her fingernail.

  “Hi, I’m Sky.”

  “Cool name.” Vanessa continued picking at her finger.

  “Thank you.” When Sky’s tutor had introduced her to her form at the beginning of the day, her name had been greeted with a couple of raised eyebrows and a few sniggers. It had not been the best of starts. Sky tried to think of something else to say to Vanessa but it was as if the heat had melted all the sentences in her brain into one big word-soup. She had to say something. Vanessa was the first person who’d spoken to her all morning. This could be her chance to make a friend.

  “Do you like History?” Sky inwardly groaned. What a lame question.

  “No.” Vanessa started picking at the skin on a different finger.

  “What subjects do you like?”

  “None.” Pick. Pick.

  “Oh.” Sky scanned the classroom. The other kids were in pairs or groups of friends. Vanessa was the only one who’d come and sat next to her. Maybe she didn’t have any friends. Well, that was fine. They could be friends. She needed to ask her another question, try and get some kind of conversation going. “Where do you live?”

  “Why?” Vanessa finally stopped picking at her fingers and looked at her. Her eyes were a pale, watery blue, matching her skin.

  “Oh, no reason, just – just trying to make conversation.”

  Vanessa nodded. “Off Old Street.”

  She went back to her fingers. Sky looked at the clock. Only one minute had passed since she last looked. This was starting to feel like torture.

  Mr Collier snapped his laptop shut and came to stand at the front of the class. His gaze fell upon Sky. “Aha, the new girl.”

  Sky squirmed.

  “Sky, isn’t it?”

  Sky nodded.

  She heard someone mutter something at the back of the class and laughter rippled towards her. She was so hot now that even the tips of her ears were burning.

  “Welcome to History, Sky. I hope you’re going to be very happy here.”

  Vanessa muttered something unintelligible.

  Sky nodded to Mr Collier. “Thank you.” She looked down at the table, dread weighing heavy in the pit of her stomach. She had a feeling that school was not going to make her “very happy” any time soon.

  Chapter Nine

  Amber stood by the door of the canteen scanning the sea of faces for Sky. All morning she’d been thinking about her, wondering how she was getting on. Hordes of students pushed past and then finally, there she was. Amber’s heart sank. Sky looked really stressed. Her normally porcelain skin was flushed bright pink and her curly blonde hair looked frizzy and dry. She scanned the corridor anxiously.

  “Sky!” Amber called, making her way up the corridor towards her.

  Sky’s face lit up with relief. “Amber! Thank God you’re here. I can’t seem to find my way anywhere in this place. Every corridor looks exactly the same.” She grabbed her in a hug.

  Amber patted her on the back. “How’s it been?”

  “OK … ish. Is there any way we could go outside? Get some fresh air? And some peace and quiet?”

  “Of course. Come with me.” Amber led Sky away from the canteen to the fire exit at the other end of the corridor.

  “Ah, look, Amber’s got a friend.” Amber froze at the sound of Chloe’s voice. Ever since Rose had been a guest on Amber’s blog a few months earlier, Chloe and her cronies had laid off her a bit. When the blog post went viral it became the talk of the school and knowing a celebrity’s daughter seemed to trump having two gay dads and the PE lesson from hell incident. Amber turned and stared at Chloe. As usual, Chloe’s face was caked with make-up, as if she painted on the same mask of cool indifference every day. Amber wondered if there was actually a nice, smiley version of Chloe beneath all the make-up and she grinned.

  “What’s funny?” Chloe said, taking a step towards her.

  There was a time when Chloe used to scare Amber but not any more. “You are,” Amber said. “You’re hilarious.”

  Chloe’s mascara-ed eyes widened. “What – but…”

  “Come on.” Amber grabbed Sky’s arm and pulled her towards the door.

  “Who was that?” Sky asked as soon as they were outside.

  “That is my nemesis,” Amber said, pulling her blazer collar up against the cold. “Or at least she was. She doesn’t really bother me now.”

  Sky looked back at the door. “Please tell me there are some nice people in this place. Apart from you, of course.”

  “Oh, I’m sure there are.” Amber rooted in her bag for her sandwiches. “I just haven’t found them yet.”

  “Seriously?” Sky looked really dejected.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you off. You don’t need to worry. You won’t be considered a ‘weirdo’ like me. You don’t dress like a so-called man. You don’t have two gay dads.”

  Sky sighed. “No, I have one hippy dad who home-schooled me and I live on a boat and I have a name that everyone seems to find hilarious.”

  Amber felt sorry for Sky. She was normally so bright and bubbly. It was horrible seeing her like this. “Oh well, on the plus side, at least we have a year-group assembly next period so we’ll be together.”

  “Yeah. I just wish…” Sky broke off and looked at the trees lining the end of the playground. Their leafless limbs flailed about in the cold breeze.

  “What?”

  Sky took a deep breath. “Nothing. Let’s talk about something else. How’s your dream going?”

  After spending the rest of lunch break talking about possible ways in which Amber could get clearer on who she was and what she wanted to do with her life, the girls went back into schoo
l. Sky seemed a lot brighter now, her skin glowing from the cold.

  “So, what happens in assemblies?” she said as Amber led her to the school hall. “Do you all sing songs and stuff?”

  “What? No! It’s normally just the head of year telling us some boring information about parents’ evenings or performance targets. I tend to use it for daydreaming time.”

  Sky laughed. “Good idea.”

  They went into the hall and sat down. Amber glanced around, trying to see the hall through Sky’s eyes. It must be so weird having never been to secondary school. Sky was slumped down in her seat like she was trying to make herself smaller. Amber hoped she’d settle in soon. From her point of view, the prospect of the next two years at school with Sky was a great one. She would finally get to experience secondary school life with a real friend. But was that selfish of her if Sky was so unhappy to be here?

  The Year Head, a short man called Mr Jenkins, came onto the stage and gradually the hall fell silent. “Welcome back, Year Eleven. I hope you all had a great Christmas.” He came and stood right at the edge of the stage and dug his hands deep into his jacket pockets. “Exam time will soon be upon us and I just wanted to reiterate how important these next few months will be for you. The grades you get for your GCSEs will dictate what A levels you’ll be able to take. And this in turn will dictate whether or not you go to university…” Amber zoned out. All this talk of exams made her current lack of direction all the more stressful. What if she’d chosen the wrong subjects to study at A level? What if her current writer’s block was a sign that she wasn’t cut out for English and Creative Writing after all? What if she was actually supposed to be an astrophysicist? She pictured her sad-faced, pencil-sketch of a surrogate mum toiling away over a test-tube in a laboratory. Oh no! What if she was genetically programmed to do science A levels instead of arts? Just as her question attack reached fever-pitch Amber sensed Sky tensing beside her and zoned back in on Mr Jenkins.

  “So, if the pressure from the exams starts to feel a bit much, you can always go and see your GP.”

  Sky leaned towards Amber. “Is he saying it’s OK if we end up on medication?” she whispered.

  Amber shrugged. They were frequently told about medication in PSHE lessons, whenever they talked about depression or anxiety. It was on the go-to list of solutions: CBT, meditation, meds. Sky frowned and shook her head.

  “Are you OK?” Amber whispered.

  Sky didn’t reply. She just sat there and glared at Mr Jenkins.

  Rose burst out of the school door and sprinted towards the gates. There was a bus to Camden at the end of the road in one minute’s time. Not that they ever came on time but, knowing her lousy luck, the one time in the history of London Transport that a bus did come on time would be now. As she raced down the road a van driver tooted his horn at her and leaned out the window.

  “Nice legs, darling!”

  “Oh yeah?” Rose stopped running and pointed to her blazer. “And what part of school uniform don’t you understand? Pervert!” Rose flipped him the finger and carried on running. She could see a bright red bus looming over the horizon. She thought of the patisserie and Francesca, and her desire to be there powered her on.

  Once on board, Rose collapsed into a seat at the front of the top deck and took stock of her day. Going back to school after the Christmas break hadn’t been nearly as bad as she’d expected. After the photo had gone viral last year Savannah had withdrawn her from her old school and she’d been home-schooled by Liam for a couple of weeks. But that had got all kinds of awkward in the aftermath of Savannah and Liam’s break up, so Savannah had enrolled her in a tiny private school in Hampstead. Rose had started at Heathlands School for Girls a few weeks before Christmas and it was proving to be a surprising success. Most of the girls there were heavily into their studies. The daughters of diplomats, business people and bankers – with a high contingent from Asia – they were more into getting A-stars than A-list gossip and that suited Rose just fine. The teachers could be a bit po-faced, in that upper-crust, British way, but Rose found that kind of entertaining, too. It was like being a character in Downton Abbey or an Agatha Christie novel – the outrageous American relation. Rose sat back in her seat and watched London roll by, a contented smile on her lips.

  It was only when the bus juddered to a halt on Camden High Street that her nerves kicked in. Rose deliberately walked slowly towards the cake shop, trying to get her anxiety in check. It had been almost a month since she’d last seen Francesca. It felt like so much had happened since then, although of course it was only in her mind. Francesca didn’t know that Rose had come out. She probably hadn’t given Rose a second thought over Christmas. She probably wasn’t even gay anyway. This whole crush was entirely pointless, there was no need to get so worked up about it. She gulped as the patisserie came into view. Hard rock was pounding from the souvenir shop next door, the bass line throbbing in time with her pulse. She could do this. She just had to pretend nothing had happened since she’d last been here. Rose pushed the door open and walked in. As usual, there was a French song playing on the old-fashioned juke-box and as usual, the palette of pastel yellows and pinks and blues instantly soothed her.

  “Rose!” Francesca exclaimed from behind the counter, throwing her hands up in delight. “You are back!”

  “Yep. Sure am.” Rose stood there, motionless, feeling awkward.

  Francesca came running out to greet her. She was wearing her usual frilly apron over a Fifties-style dress, her shiny chestnut hair tied back with a floral bandana. “We have missed you so much!” she cried, pulling Rose into a hug.

  She smelled of a delicious mix of perfume, vanilla and cinnamon. The pit of Rose’s stomach started to tingle. “I’ve missed you too,” she said gruffly. “The shop, I mean. Well – and you. You and the shop.” Oh geez, this was not a good start at all.

  Francesca laughed, showing off her cute dimples. Before, when Rose hadn’t allowed herself to admit to her true sexuality, it had been like looking at Francesca through gauze. But now her beauty shone in glorious technicolour and it was doing the weirdest things to Rose’s body.

  “Take a seat,” Francesca said, gesturing to a nearby table. Apart from one elderly couple hunched over coffee and cupcakes in the corner, the shop was empty. “I get you a hot chocolate and your Christmas present.”

  “You got me a Christmas present?” Rose felt a stab of guilt. She hadn’t got Francesca anything. She’d thought about it. Window-shopped her way around Manhattan looking for potential gifts but decided against it in the end in case it gave Francesca the wrong idea. Or the right idea or … oh man.

  “But of course!” Francesca cried in her sing-song French accent. “I get all my employees a Christmas present. To say thank you for all your hard work.”

  “Ah. OK.” Rose sat down and pulled off her hat and scarf. She took her phone from her bag. She needed a distraction. Something to focus on to stop her from melting into a love-sick puddle. She had two new texts. One from Amber and one from her mom. She opened Amber’s first.

  I need your help! How do you work out what you’re supposed to do with your life?

  Rose grinned as she typed her reply.

  No worries! Will call you later to arrange a life-coaching session. xoxo

  She opened the text from her mom.

  Been dropped by the perfume company but it’s all good. Will explain when you get home. XO

  Rose studied the text. Her mom often said one thing when she actually meant a whole other thing. How could being dropped by another firm be “all good”? Especially when she’d reacted so badly the previous two times. She quickly sent her a reply.

  Aw sorry mom. At the patisserie right now but I’ll be home soon. Big hugs xoxoxo

  Rose sat back in her chair. It was good to get a reality check, to be reminded that there was more to life than Francesca. Rose needed to get a grip on herself before she ended up even more lovestruck than Maali. Shit! Maali. She’d meant to
text her today to find out how her dad was.

  Hey Maals, how’s your dad doing? xoxo

  Then she thought of Sky and sent her a quick text too.

  Yo! Welcome to the World of School. Hope it wasn’t too traumatic. Love ya! Xoxo

  Rose breathed in the sweet smell of the cake shop. This was good. Thinking about other people had really helped straighten her head out. Francesca came back to the table holding a hot chocolate in one hand and a small, gift-wrapped box in the other. The reflection of the fairy lights strung all around the shop glittered in her hair.

  “Your gift,” she said, handing Rose the box. As Rose took it from her their fingertips touched and she swore she actually felt sparks fly.

  “Thank you,” Rose muttered. She pulled at the wrapping paper but her fingers suddenly felt all fat and clumsy. Get a frickin’ grip! Finally, she got through the tape and the paper came off. Inside was a jewellery box. She opened it, praying Francesca wouldn’t see that her hands were trembling now. Inside, a beautiful silver rose pendant on a chain lay on a bed of inky blue velvet. Each unfurling petal had been carved in intricate detail.

  “It is a rose – for Rose!” Francesca said with a laugh. “I get it in Paris. At an antique fair.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Rose said, taking the necklace from the box and fumbling with the clasp.

  “Here, let me.” Francesca took the necklace and went behind her. She was so close Rose could smell her perfume again. Francesca gently placed the necklace around her neck and did up the clasp. “Let me see,” she said, coming round to face Rose. “Ah, très bien!”

  For a moment, their eyes met, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze-frame right there, inside a tiny cake shop in Camden. Everything just stopped … apart from Rose’s beating heart. Then there was the scraping of chairs on the wooden floor and the sound of shuffling and coats being put on as the elderly couple in the corner got up to leave.