New Kid In Town (Bryant Rockwell Book 1)
Page 14
“Let me help.” Terry transferred the stuff onto his tray so he could carry them both.
She sensed an ulterior motive and rattled on to fill the silence. “And she’s left her fleece. Oh, well. I’ll give it to her in Biology.”
He caught her arm, speaking before she had a chance to stand. “Liv, are you doing anything at half term? I mean, going away with family or anything.”
“No, I don’t think so. Why?”
“I was wondering.” He faltered, then tried a new tack. “Colin’s working at Stratford and he can get a discount for tickets. I know you like plays ...”
“What, he’s working at the theatre?”
Instead of the suave, assured Terry from the ice rink, he reverted to type, overcome by the effort of talking to her. He went bright red and could only nod in response.
She regretted interrupting his flow, and tried to get him back on course. “Your brother’s working at the Royal Shakespeare theatre in Stratford. Wow, that’s wonderful.”
“No, it’s the Swan, but he can get tickets to the main house productions. They’re doing Twelfth Night, and I was thinking maybe we could ...”
“Sounds like a great idea, Terry. It’d be cool to get the gang together in the holidays.” Ray’s voice startled Liv, she hadn’t spotted his approach.
She felt her cheeks going pink as he smiled at her.
He picked up the fleece and carried on with an innocent smile. “My mum could probably fit us all in her space wagon; or we could go on the train. We could spend the day exploring; there are some wonderful places over there. I bet your brother could give us a few tips on where to eat and everything.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Liv enthused about the idea. “What a smashing way to break up the holiday; it can get so boring, and this is something totally different. Thanks Terry, that’s a stunning idea.”
So, why did Terry look like someone just stole his rice pudding? Surely he wasn’t thinking of only him and her? Liv hesitated. No, that would be like a date, and they all knew – or did they?
She spoke rapidly to cover her confusion. “See if you can find out how much the tickets are and which day. We’ll see Luke and Jude in physics and biology and you can tell Kat in drama.”
“Music today.” His crest had definitely fallen.
“Whatever. Terrific idea, Terry.” Ray tapped his watch. “C’mon, Liv. We’d better get going.”
She picked up her tray and followed him out, her mind going ten to the dozen with an internal dialogue. Why was Ray in such a hurry all of a sudden? Did she imagine it, or was he trying to get her away from Terry? Did he think Terry was asking her out and deliberately suggest they were all invited? No. What possible reason would he have for doing that? Unless he fancied her. Now you’re getting proper delusional, girl.
She found it hard to concentrate on the new topic in physics as her attention kept wandering several rows in front to the desks where Ray sat with Luke. At one point Mr Langley pointed to the poster at the back of the room showing the way light gets corrected by a spectacle lens in front of an eye and they all dutifully looked. Liv turned back to find Ray gazing at her with a curious expression on his face. Did he know she’d been thinking about him? He winked at her and turned back to the front, thankfully missing the blush she could feel heating her cheeks as she bent her head to concentrate on her book.
When the bell rang, she was still busy copying the homework off the board; late because of her daydreaming. She finally finished, glancing over to see Jude had replaced Luke, sitting next to Ray.
They were deep in a conversation which lasted even after Dr Breedwell launched into her fascinating account of the sex-life of plants. In fact, they seemed to have more important things to discuss throughout the lesson; every time Liv checked, they’d got their heads together over something. She wondered what was worth the risk; the biology teacher had a sharp eye and even sharper tongue.
“Olivia Tranter. Are you with us or off on a different planet where they don’t need to know about meiosis?”
“That’s where the diploid chromosomes are halved, isn’t it?”
“Hmmmph. Seems you have been listening. You merely give the appearance of stupefaction.”
By now, the whole class was staring and Liv simply wanted the ground to do the proverbial thing and swallow her whole. Damn Ray. He gave her another one of those sympathetic smiles when it was clearly all his fault in the first place. She couldn’t wait to get home and sort her feelings out. Maybe if she wrote and explained it all to Mel it would help. Home time couldn’t come soon enough.
She reached the lockers at the same time as Kat, and was about to ask her when Jude bounded up, full of beans.
“So, Kat. Can you come, then?”
“Another skating trip this weekend?”
“That’s a good idea. No, I meant to Stratford at half term.”
Liv focussed on organising her homework, trying not to feel left out as they chatted. Kat had met Jude before they started high school and they had a stronger bond; it was natural she’d listen to her, exactly as Liv always put Mel first.
“Oh, right. The thing Terry mentioned. I’m not sure. I’d have to check with Mum, first. My cousin Liam’s coming over from Ireland and she asked me to spend some time with him until he finds some friends over here.”
“Bring him along, too.”
“Hadn’t you better see if Colin can get enough tickets before you go inviting the world, Jude?” Liv was annoyed; she wasn’t sure whether it was Jude’s proprietorial attitude to the Stratford outing, or her intimacy with Ray.
“One more isn’t the world. Loosen up, Liv, you’ve been in a mood all afternoon.” She had? In whose opinion?
Liv was still worrying about things when she got home; she was far too wound up to attempt homework, so she went straight upstairs to her desk and found her set of matching Cute-Kitty writing paper. Her thoughts finally began to sort themselves out as she wrote:
Dear Mel,
How are you? Thanks very much for your letter – sorry I didn’t write back before now. Jude and Kat send their love and we all miss you like crazy. You’ll have to see if your folks will let you come up and stay one weekend. Mum says you could stop with us so long as we both get our homework done. Talking of work, I’m totally with you on the GCSE terror; all the teachers are piling on the stress – the homework seems to have doubled since year 10.
We also had a new guy starting, Ray. He’s extremely smart and witty (in that snarky way we love so much), and Drop Dead Gorgeous. Before you ask “What’s the catch?” – he’s in a wheelchair.
She stopped and bit the end of her pen. Should she mention that he might walk one day? No, it wasn’t something to write about, and besides, she couldn’t be sure. She carried on:
Of course, half the class fancy him (including me) but he seems to have a thing about Jude, calls her “The Wild Girl” which, as you know, suits her well. Only thing is, Luke Harper (remember the Juvenile Court thing after his mum died?), well he seems to fancy her, too, although he’s back walking home with Kat every night. He certainly seems to be in demand now he’s lost that “bear with a sore head” attitude. Even Dirty Diana’s trying to persuade him to try a “bit of upper crust.” Poor lad.
And remember how we thought Kat’s mate Terry (Zac-Efron-poster boy) had a crush on Luke? Ray thinks so, too, but I’m not sure. I think he almost asked me out (Terry, not Ray), but now we’re all going to see “Twelfth Night” in Stratford at half term. Is this making sense? Can you come, too?
One thing’s for sure, it’s all ridiculously complicated. I’ll have to explain over the phone, or better still when you come up. It would be so-oo good to have you meet Ray and hear your take on who you think he fancies. And, of course, I bet you’d have some brilliant ideas about how we can pay DD back for smashing me in the face in hockey, trying to nobble Jude at Fernley and a hundred other nasty things. Call me when you have more details about your visit.
/> She read the last paragraph and sighed. Complicated was much too small a word for what had happened to them. She’d glimpsed sides of Jude and Kat she’d not seen before; the same was true of Luke and even Terry. Was it Ray having this effect on them all? Or simply the fact they were all at the stage when nothing was straightforward, anymore?
Liv had heard her mother complain enough times about her sister, Vicky. Now, every time they had words, she’d talk about “that awkward age” as though it was a life sentence.
Oh, well. She’d have to see what the next few weeks would bring; hopefully this complicated love pentagon with Luke, Jude, Ray, her and Terry would sort itself out. She was pretty sure Kat had no feelings for Luke or Ray, but she could be wrong. Can you have a love hexagon? Her snark said sexagon and she shooed it away with a stern warning and a sigh. It was going to be nothing if not eventful with the auditions for Bugsy coming up. And the open evening. Then they had the half term trip, in Shakespeare’s own theatre!
And something she’d not told anybody, yet. Not even Jude and Kat, and most definitely not Mum. She was going on a strict diet so no one would ever call her fat again. Yeah, these were certainly exciting times. She picked up the pen to finish the letter:
See you soon,
Luv
Liv
XXX
Just for a little fun, here’s the Shakespeare/Rose quiz from Chapter 20
1 point for identifying each of
3 sonnets (bonus point for no. of sonnet)
5 plays (bonus point for name of play)
5 quotes not by Shakespeare (bonus mark for author)
2 bonus points for odd one out – possible total is 28.
Say that she frown; I'll say she looks as clear. As morning roses newly wash'd with dew
But he that dares not grasp the thorn should never crave the rose
The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem, For that sweet odour which doth in it live
Some people grumble that roses have thorns; I am grateful that thorns have roses
Rose at an instant, learned, played, eat together
It will never rain roses: when we want to have more roses we must plant more trees
Why should poor beauty indirectly seek Roses of shadow, since his Rose is true?
What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet
I’d rather have roses on my table than diamonds on my neck
Women are as roses, whose fair flower, being once displayed, doth fall that very hour
Nor did I wonder at the lilies white, Nor praise the deep vermillion in the rose
Of colour like the red rose on triumphant briar
An idealist is one who, on noticing that roses smell better than a cabbage, concludes that it will also make better soup
For a copy of the answers, email me at jacky@hengistarcher.co.uk.
Anyone getting 22 points or more wins the Jacky Gray book of their choice (hint: read the chapter for some clues).
Return to Chapter 20
The next adventure in this series is The Show Must Go On.
If you would like a taster, read on:
The butterflies in Liv’s stomach had learnt a new dance routine. A full-on, high-kicking chorus-line jobbie from a musical such as Moulin Rouge, or her new favourite, La-la Land. Which was kinda appropriate as she waited with her besties to audition for a part in the school production of Bugsy Malone. Liv’s left hand rested in Kat’s death-grip, so her right one crept up to find a twirlable strand of hair. Jude stilled it in a familiar gesture, leaving Liv no choice but to try some deep breathing to calm her restless energy.
The three of them only had two evenings to put something together because of the many other pulls on their time. Like Jude’s almost daily ice-skating training and Kat’s absolute devotion to her directorial debut for the first GCSE Drama assignment. Nothing special filled Liv’s evenings, making her totally available. Oops. If only her brain wouldn’t persist in thinking in terms of double-entendres, and her foot-shaped mouth wouldn’t insist on broadcasting them to the world. But she was working on it. Amongst other things.
Miss Maines, the casting director, gave them the nod and they sprang into action, harmonising to convince the audience of the virtues of wearing a smile. An embarrassment of jazz hands – Jude’s idea – accompanied Kat’s final, “With. Out. A. Smile,” as the other two syncopated with their lines about not being fully dressed, not even in a vest.
“Lovely, girls. Thank you very much.” The drama teacher’s effusive praise helped a lot. “Very good, especially the choreography. Now, something on your own, please. Kat, you go first.”
The others moved back as Kat sang the signature tune from Annie in her pure, clear voice. “The sun’ll come out, tomorrow. Betcha bottom dollar …”
Liv noticed almost every person in the room adopting an indulgent, squishy expression. As though she’d really made the sun come out. Everyone knew about Kat’s musical superpower, except the girl herself.
“Marvellous. Shame we’re not doing Annie, I can definitely see you with red hair and freckles. Now what about you two? Know anything from Bugsy?”
Liv stepped forward. She’d sat through the video of Tallulah’s signature tune five times last night trying to get a take on the tricky rhythms, but it was virtually impossible without the music to provide the timing and strange chord changes. At least she had no problems with the seductive actions as she sashayed around the stage area, singing about leaving a little reputation behind.
“Wonderful stuff. Now, Judith, is it?”
Jude hesitated. Liv knew she struggled to remember the next verse and willed her to go to the chorus. Thankfully, she got the message.
“If you’re lonely, you don’t have to be lonely …” After a slightly pitchy start, Jude cracked it, channelling Jodie Foster as she aced the sultry, North Carolina accent.
“Great. Ok, that’s enough you three; give your details to Mrs Mackintosh.” Ticking names on her list, the drama teacher indicated the lady sitting at a desk to the left. “Now, who’s next? Come on, then. Don’t be shy, we haven’t got all day.”
Miss Maines’ expression was a study in mortification as she glanced up from her clipboard to find Drop-Dead-Gorgeous Ray wheeling his chair to the centre of the audition area, thus explaining the delay.
The girls watched, captivated, as he and Hunky-Athlete Luke did a comic double act from Twelfth Night, playing Sir Toby and Sir Andrew. They must have been working at it for several hours; they were both word perfect and played it for every last laugh.
Even the frazzled drama teacher clapped at the end of it. “Brilliant. I don’t suppose either of you jokers sing?”
They picked up the challenge in an instant, making a credible duet out of the opening song from West Side Story, tossing lines back and forth between each other. Ray’s presence as the gang leader would command any stage, and Luke held his own as a credible wing-man. Their sparky presentation sold “The Jet Song” brilliantly to the audience of hopefuls, and a couple of shocked faces convinced Liv they’d misheard the line about “… when the spit hits the fan.” Everyone in the room clapped when Miss Maines finally called a halt.
“Ok, I’m convinced. Leave your names please. Who’s next? Hi, Terry. Give us a couple of lines, please.”
A bespectacled, nerdy-looking boy snuck up to the mic, but as soon as he opened his mouth, he morphed into a fifties pin-up idol as he delivered another classic. All anxiety lost, he clicked his fingers and sang, engaging every person in the room with a vision of something good coming round the corner.
“Thanks, Terry. Terrific. Next.”
A thin, mousey-haired girl from year ten coughed nervously at the mic.
“Come on, Alison. We’ve got a lot to get through and there’s only today and tomorrow to cast all the lead parts.”
The poor girl looked as though she wanted to burst into tears, but she started bravely with the opening of “I feel prett
y.” Her voice cracked during the fourth line, and she froze; fear had obviously made her forget the words.
As they watched and sympathised, an amazing thing happened. Terry – Painfully-Shy, Wouldn’t-Say-Boo-to-a-Goose, Terry – appeared beside her, feeding her lines which restored her confidence. As they harmonised effortlessly, his actions gave context to the words about looking in mirrors and she joined in with some tentative animation, bringing the song to life.
Liv saw the exact point when the drama teacher decided to give the timid girl a chance, as she made a note.
Miss Maines huffed a sigh. “Right. Got there in the end. Any more from West Side Story? I’m beginning to think we chose the wrong musical.”
Liv glanced round to find Ray smiling at her. He winked and she knew he was remembering when they’d duetted with that very same song on his first day at Bryant Rockwell, two weeks ago. Gosh, was it really only that long? She worked it out in her head. Yep, this time two weeks ago she’d never laid eyes on Ray Donelly; yet a part of her felt as though she’d known him forever. He’d certainly put a cat among their little group of pigeons, but so far, he treated them all equally, teasing and flirting with all three of them and declaring he only wanted their company as friends.
Ray had a lot in common with her: not only a warped sense of humour and a love of old musicals, but also an interest in the sciences and an apparent dislike of sports. She had a sneaking suspicion that, in his case, this developed purely because of his disability. Hers, however, arose because she was fat, unfit and totally uncoordinated. But not for much longer if her plan worked.
Glossary and Note about UK Schools
UK
US
blimey
wow/drat
don’t collect £200
Monopoly reference
chips