Me Suzy P

by Karen Saunders

  “Conni says bright colours are totally over,” Amber wails. “Oh no. This ruins everything. What are we going to do?”

  “But she also says pastels are in,” Mum says quickly, smiling at me. “Especially pink. And you love pink, Amber.”

  “Do you think that pink would work? Really? Oooh, I can’t breathe. And I think I’m going to throw up,” Amber says, clutching a hand to her chest. “I’m feeling really pukey all of a sudden. Oooh, this is a disaster.”

  “Now, calm down,” Mum says, rubbing Amber’s back as she inhales and exhales slowly, urging Amber to copy her. “I think pink would look stunning.”

  “You’re sure?” Amber gasps, between breaths.

  Mum nods.

  “I guess pink would be pretty,” Amber says. She inhales deeply one last time and nods shakily. “Okay. If that’s what Conni says, she must be right. I’ll change the theme to pink.”

  Yes! Saved. My mother is an evil genius. I flash her a grateful grin. I mean, it’s still pink, which isn’t my favourite colour in the world, but it’s preferable to the hideousness that would have been a lime green dress.

  “So we’re decided on the pink?” the sales assistant asks warily.

  “We’re decided,” Mum says.

  “Lovely,” the sales assistant says. “Wait here a moment and I’ll go and pick out some gowns.”

  “This is soooo exciting!” Amber says, clapping her hands. Her mood has completely transformed. “Are you excited too, Suzy?”

  “Er…”

  “Suzy,” Mum warns.

  “So excited I could burst,” I squeal, ignoring Mum’s death glare.

  Amber beams happily. She has no comprehension of sarcasm.

  “These are a few of our most popular styles,” the shop assistant says, returning with a stack of clothes.

  Hmm. They don’t look too great from where I’m standing. And they definitely won’t go with my Converse.

  Mum sees my expression. “Suzy, these dresses are lovely.” She comes closer and hisses in my ear, “Be thankful they’re not green.” Deftly, she whips Aunty Lou off my arm and pushes me in the direction of the changing rooms. “Off you go and try these on.”

  Before I know what’s happening, I’m standing in a cubicle wriggling out of my jeans and retro Wonder Woman tee, only to be faced with a giant reflection of myself in the mirror.

  My hazel eyes, carefully rimmed with brown eyeliner, blink in surprise.

  Blimey. Talk about a close-up. You can see all the pores on my nose. And I really should have worn some better undies. My pants have gone grey in the wash, and there’s a hole in my bra.

  “How are you getting on in there, Suzy?” Mum says loudly. “Do you need a hand?”

  Does the woman think I’m still a child? Honestly. I’m perfectly capable of dressing myself.

  “Just a sec,” I call back.

  Right. There’s clearly no escape, so I’m going to have to do this. Which is the least hideous?

  Taking a deep breath, I pick one out and tug it on. It’s not good. There’s a huge bow that rests at the bottom of my back while the material sags unattractively, cleverly avoiding any of the curves of my body. I might as well be wearing a pink sack.

  I rummage through my backpack and find my mobile, tapping out a quick text to Danny.

  Am in shopping hell, trapped in the world’s worst dress. Kill me now. Or better still, come 2 my rescue.

  Danny replies within seconds.

  Hah! No way. You’re on your own.

  Pfff. Some knight in shining armour he is. I stamp outside the changing room.

  “Hideous,” Aunt Lou says with a disdainful sniff.

  “She’s right. It’s terrible. It doesn’t fit her properly, and the dress has to be perfect – perfect, Mum!” Amber’s voice has gone high and panicky again.

  “Amber, calm down, for heaven’s sake. There are lots more left for Suzy to try. Go and put on the next one, Suze,” Mum says. “And cheer up, this is supposed to be fun.”

  I huff off to try dress number two.

  It’s equally nasty, much too long, and the strangest shade of pink I’ve ever seen. Kind of like gammon, I guess. I very much doubt gammon is the theme my sister has in mind for her wedding, and sure enough it gets the thumbs down from the judging panel outside. As do dresses three to thirteen.

  By the time I pull on dress fourteen, I’m losing the will to live. Even Aunt Lou had the sense to fall asleep at dress seven; her rumbling snores have been drifting over the curtain for the last half hour.

  This one’s not too awful, I guess, although there are way too many fabric flowers and ruffles for my liking. It’s a pale baby pink, and A-line, fitted under the bust. It’s the best so far, apart from one ginormous hitch: the top appears to have been designed with a glamour model in mind. You could fit at least another four pairs of bazoomas in here, so there’s no way it’ll stay up with just my chest to cling on to. And it’s about twice the length of my body. I step into the huge heels I was given for trying-on purposes, and teeter gingerly outside, holding onto the neckline for dear life.

  “Ooh, that one’s pretty,” says Amber, a huge smile on her face. “Yes, I think we might finally have found it.”

  “It’s lovely,” Mum says, bustling up and fiddling with the skirt. She slaps at my hands. “Let go, Suzy, we want to see.”

  “You’ll see more than you bargained for if you’re not careful,” I say, fighting her off with my elbows. “If I let go, I’ll be wearing it round my ankles.”

  “That doesn’t look much like a wedding dress to me,” Aunty Lou says, waking up with a start. “Is this what they’re wearing nowadays?”

  “Aunt Lou, it’s Amber who’s getting married, remember?” Mum says. “Suzy’s the bridesmaid and we’re shopping for her today.”

  “The what?” Aunt Lou says, cupping her hand around her ear.

  “Suzy is a bridesmaid, not the bride,” Mum says more loudly.

  “You said we were shopping for the bridal gown,” Aunty Lou says, sounding appalled.

  “No, I said we were shopping for Suzy. You told me you wanted to see what she was going to be wearing. Doesn’t she look lovely?”

  “If I’d known it was only the bridesmaid’s outfit, I’d never have come,” Aunt Lou snaps. “I missed bridge for this. You lied to get me here.”

  “I didn’t lie, Aunt Lou,” Mum says, taking a deep breath. Her hands are starting to clench. “I told you exactly what we were doing today. Now, what do you think of this dress?”

  “It’s a bit big, isn’t it?” Aunty Lou says, extracting her glasses from their case and fumbling them onto her nose. She hauls herself onto her feet and hobbles closer before jabbing at my right boob with a bony finger. “She hasn’t got much in the way of a bosom, has she?”

  “Get off,” I say, twisting away. “I’m perfectly happy with my breasts, thank you very much.”

  “You what? Speak up. You youngsters are always mumbling. No proper elocution.”

  “I said, I’m perfectly happy with my breasts,” I shout.

  A whole floor of shoppers falls silent before their gazes universally swivel in the direction of my chest.

  “If you say so,” Aunty Lou replies dismissively.

  She is truly more evil than Satan himself.

  “I’m going to see if I can find you a padded bra,” Mum says. “We need to see the fit properly to make a decision. Wait here. And ignore her,” Mum adds out of the corner of her mouth.

  “I heard that,” Aunty Lou says. “Don’t think because I’m old that you can get away with being rude about me. Your mother would be ashamed.”

  “My mother loathed you, you mad old bag,” Mum mutters as she goes off in search of the lingerie department, Aunty Lou following behind. Luckily for Mum, it’s not long before a nearby chair provides a distraction and Aunt Lou gives up, deciding a snooze is the preferable option.

  “Wow, look at these,” Amber says, holding up some pink, shimmery
fairy wings. “I could have some fairy flower girls – that’d be lovely, wouldn’t it, Suzypoos? But we don’t have anyone young enough in the family who’d do it. I know Harry won’t. Maybe you’d…”

  “Don’t even think about it,” I tell her firmly.

  “Oh well. Perhaps you’ll change your mind. I’ll be back in a bit, I’m going to try on some tiaras.”

  Well, thanks very much everyone. Just abandon me here, why don’t you? It’s not like I can move, because there’s a distinct possibility I’ll fall over, let go of the dress and end up semi-starkers – and nobody needs to see that. Good job it’s not too busy in here, so there’re not many people around to witness this.

  Although… that girl walking towards me looks a lot like Jade Taylor from school.

  Exactly like her in fact.

  Wait a minute… it is Jade Taylor.

  Universe, why do you hate me so?

  Of all the people I don’t want to see right now, Jade Taylor tops the list. She’s super gorgeous, with her pouty lips, huge eyes and perfect, ruler-straight, honey hair. The boys all fancy her, which isn’t surprising, given the way she sashays through the corridors in her too-tight shirts and short flippy skirts. The boys, she’s nice to. The girls… not so much. You don’t want to get on the wrong side of Jade. She’ll make your life hell.

  Maybe it’s not really her, and it’s just a lookalike.

  Nope. It’s definitely her.

  My life is over.

  Please, go the other way, go the other way… I wish harder than I’ve wished for anything before in my life, but she’s not going the other way. In fact, she’s heading straight for me.

  I cannot, under any circumstances, let Jade see me like this.

  Gazing around in desperation, I duck down behind the nearest clothes rail. But somehow I get tangled in my hem and trip over, ending up on my bum and clinging to the dress’s bodice for dear life.

  I lower my head and stare at the ground, trying to pull the hanging clothes around me. Please, please, let me be invisible…

  “Suzy?” Jade pokes at me with the toe of her Ugg boot before pulling apart the clothes hangers. “Is that you? Why are you scrabbling round on the floor?”

  I scramble to my feet, which isn’t the easiest when you’re wearing massive heels and don’t have use of your hands. “Oh, um, hi, Jade. I was, er, checking they swept the floor properly. I’m here with my great aunt who gets asthma and dust is, um, really bad for people with allergies.”

  What am I saying? Brain to mouth, brain to mouth, change the subject. Now.

  “So, um, what are you doing here?”

  “Trying to find the toilets,” Jade says, rearranging her armful of shopping bags. “You’re not seriously buying that dress, are you? It’s vile.”

  “My big sister’s getting married,” I mumble. “I’m the bridesmaid.”

  “And that’s what she’s making you wear?” Jade says meanly. “She doesn’t like you much, does she?”

  I’m saved from having to reply because Jade’s stopped paying attention. “Over here,” she calls. “God, where have you been?”

  I swear my heart stops beating as Zach, of all people, walks up. What’s he doing here? And why’s he with Jade?

  “Just around,” Zach says, sounding bored. “Who’s this?” he asks. “Oh… you. I know you from somewhere.”

  Yes, you do, I want to scream with delight, thrilled that he remembers me. I’m the girl you dropped the football in front of. We shared a look! There was a connection!

  “You look really familiar. You go to Collinsbrooke, right? Are you in one of my classes?”

  “Er, no.”

  C’mon, keep thinking, the football field, you saw me on the football field…

  “Hang on, now I remember,” the boy says, clicking his fingers and starting to laugh. “You’re the girl who pulled down Ryan’s shorts, aren’t you? That was one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. I only wish I’d filmed it.”

  Oh. So that’s why he remembers me.

  I’m standing in front of the fittest guy I’ve ever met and, miracle of miracles, he’s aware of my existence – but it’s only because he witnessed my most cringesome moment ever.

  Thank goodness he didn’t film it. The last thing I need is to be plastered all over YouTube, my humiliation broadcast on a global scale.

  “This is Suzy Puttock.” There’s an evil glint in Jade’s big brown eyes as she places extra emphasis on my surname.

  Zach snorts. “Puttock? Seriously? As in, rhymes—”

  “And this is Zach,” Jade coos, interrupting him.

  As if I need telling.

  I can’t seem to drag my eyes away from Zach’s light brown hair, flecked through with blond highlights from the sun. Or his dark green eyes, which have the longest lashes I’ve ever seen on a boy. Or his achingly-cool outfit, a red printed tee over designer jeans.

  Trust Jade to already have her perfectly French-manicured claws in him.

  “That’s certainly an interesting dress,” Zach says, his gaze flicking up and down my body.

  Crikey. The way his eyes are scanning me everywhere is making me feel all kinds of peculiar.

  I should probably say something to show what a witty and amusing individual I am, and how I totally see the funny side in this whole situation.

  “Um, thanks,” I say, swallowing awkwardly. “It’s not my choice. I don’t like ruffles, or dresses even. I usually look perfectly normal, honest, in jeans or leggings or something, but you know what weddings are like, they send people crazy and you can’t stop my mother and sister when they get going. They picked this out but the top’s way too big so I’m stuck here because I can’t walk in these heels and I didn’t want to flash my boobs…”

  The moment the word ‘boobs’ exits my mouth, I stop talking and my cheeks burn hotly. What is with me? Did I seriously just say ‘boobs’ in front of him? That little speech was about as far away from witty and amusing as you can get. I am such a loser.

  “Suzy, where are you?” Mum calls from the middle of the shop.

  “Over here,” I reply, without thinking.

  “I’ve got you a bumper-boost bra to try,” she hollers, shaking it in the air. “It took ages to get your size as you’re so small but I’ve finally found one with plenty of extra padding.”

  For the second time in twenty minutes the shop falls silent and everyone stares at my chest.

  I can hear blood pumping in my ears. “I… er…”

  “We have to go,” says Jade, whipping an iPhone out of her bag. She holds it up and snaps a quick photo.

  “Hey,” I protest as Jade starts to text at top speed.

  Great. Just great. That’ll be my photo posted all over the internet, then.

  “Bye, Suzy,” Jade says, pulling Zach away before I can make a grab for the phone.

  “Yeah, bye,” I mutter.

  Thanks for nothing, Mum.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “It was such a nightmare,” I wail down the phone. “Stop laughing.”

  “Okay, okay, it’s just…” Millie’s off again, giggling madly.

  In your own time, Mills. Don’t mind me.

  “Oh, Suze, I’m sorry,” Millie says, trying to stifle her laughter.

  “Liar.”

  “No, I am, honest. It must have been beyond awful. But you have to admit, it is pretty funny…”

  “It’s not,” I protest. “There’s not enough brain bleach in the world to erase the image of Mum waving around that bra. How can I go back to school now? Jade will have told everyone, and she’s probably plastered that photo everywhere online. I don’t even want to know what Zach thought. As if remembering me because of what happened on the football field wasn’t hideous enough.”

  “Well, to be fair, it’s not exactly forgettable,” Millie says, unhelpfully. “So do you think Zach is Jade’s boyfriend?”

  “I guess. But aren’t we getting off topic? We’re focusing on the fact that this t
ime, I am actually going to die of embarrassment. Over the last few days, my humiliation quota has been reached, and death is the only way out. You’d better come to my funeral, or I’m going to haunt you for all eternity and focus my paranormal powers on throwing stuff at your head.”

  “It’s really annoying Jade’s nabbed him already,” Millie says.

  “Er, haven’t you forgotten something? A small matter of Jamie? Your boyfriend?”

  “Oh shush,” Millie says. “I’m only saying. So, did you get a dress in the end?”

  “Yeah,” I say with a sigh. “Luckily Mum talked Amber out of the lime green, so we’ve gone with the pink one requiring the bumper-boost bra of shame, but only on the condition some serious alterations take place. I have no desire to end up semi-naked in a church.”

  “That would be pretty horrific,” Millie says. “Anyway, what are you up to tonight? You and Danny want to come out with Jamie and me?”

  “Can’t. Mum and Dad have taken Aunty Loon home and are going out for dinner on the way back. Amber’s gone with Mark to choose stuff for their gift list, and I’m the sucker lumbered with babysitting Harry.”

  “Just you and Harry? In the house on your own?” Millie sounds alarmed. “You’ll kill each other.”

  “Nah, it’s all right, Danny’s coming over. He’s bringing a DVD. I’m planning on locking Harry in a cupboard so we can have a romantic evening together.”

  “Sounds great,” Millie says. “After blackmailing Jamie into coming shopping, I had to promise I’d see a dumb martial arts film with him. No romance for us, just a whole lot of karate chopping.”

  Buzzzzzzzzzzz!

  The sound of the doorbell echoes through the house and moments later Harry races past. “Danny’s here! Danny’s here!”

  “Blimey, someone’s keen,” Millie says.

  “Tell me about it. He’s the big brother she never had. I’d better rescue him.”

  “Flipola, I’ve gotta go too,” Millie says. “I’m supposed to be at Jamie’s in five, and that’s not going to happen. See ya.”

  In the mere milliseconds it takes to press the button that ends our call, Harry’s attached herself to Danny’s arm and is telling him everything she’s done over the past week. Danny even seems interested, the freak. He’s always saying he’s jealous of my sisters and loud, crazy family. It’s just him and his dad since his parents divorced, so his house is always really quiet. I think it’s heaven. Danny says it’s boring.