Me Suzy P

by Karen Saunders

  I clear my throat and try again. “Um, this is Murphy. He’s massive, isn’t he? We think he’s part Irish Wolfhound, part Great Dane. He belongs to Millie.”

  Zach gestures in Millie’s direction. “You’re in my maths set, aren’t you?”

  Millie nods her head, opens her mouth, then shuts it again. I’ve never seen her so quiet before. It’s kind of freaky.

  “Do you never speak?” Zach says. “So what’s the deal with this dog? Why’s he got two leads on?”

  Millie finally remembers how her voice works. “He’s strong.”

  And then there’s a long, awkward pause.

  Maybe we should talk about something other than dogs. But what?

  I’m frantically trying to come up with something when a huge gust of wind whips through the park, sending my hair in all directions. I grab my head and try to smooth it back down.

  Aargh! I must look a complete moose! It’s not like I’m looking my best as it is, having been chasing a crazy canine around for the past forty-five minutes.

  “I’m such a mess,” I say. Then immediately hope Zach hasn’t heard me.

  “Why do you care all of a sudden?” Millie asks, a smile twitching at the corner of her mouth.

  I’m still deciding how to answer when Murphy starts barking.

  And it’s then I realise that while I was fussing with my hair, I’ve let go of his lead.

  “Murphy, sit down,” Millie says in alarm. “Murphy, I said, sit. Sit, Murphy. Muuurrrrppphhy! Noooo!”

  But Murphy’s spotted his beloved Pansy mincing by some trees a short distance away. Barking furiously, he sets off at top speed, dragging Millie after him. She tilts backwards at an alarming angle, like a water-skier.

  “Argggh!” Millie screams. “Suzy, what are you doing? You weren’t supposed to let go. Help meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

  The Yorkie freezes in shock when she sees Murphy heading for her, then scampers out of the way with only seconds to spare.

  “My baby!” Mrs Pepper shrieks. “Get that beast away from my baby!”

  Zach’s bent over with laughter, so doesn’t see the Yorkie running to hide behind his legs. But there’s no way Zach can miss Murphy, who doubles back and leaps up onto him.

  Zach thumps down awkwardly to the ground as Millie finally releases the lead, barrels into Zach and also goes flying. Murphy, happy now he’s snared his true love, is lying on the ground, nuzzling Pansy’s head as the smaller dog trembles between his paws.

  I’m absolutely horrified. “I’m so sorry. Are you guys all right?”

  “My ankle,” Zach says, as he struggles to sit up. “It really kills. I think… I think it might be broken.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Dring ting ting!

  The bell above the door of Bojangles café announces the fact I’m late – again. I was supposed to meet my friends here after school fifteen minutes ago. But that’s the least of my problems right now.

  Stressed does not even begin to cover it.

  Although I do love the smell in here. Mmm. It’s a scrummy mix of cinnamon, coffee and freshly baked cakes. It’s so delish my tummy growls and I relax slightly.

  But only a smidgen.

  I’ve been worrying non-stop about what happened in the park yesterday. Zach wasn’t at school today and I’m completely freaking out. What if his ankle really is broken? I mean, way to make a good impression. I’ve done some dumb things in my life, but I’ve never maimed anyone before.

  “Suzy!”

  Over in the corner, Danny’s waving. I squeeze my way through the chairs to where he, Millie and Jamie have taken over a table, and collapse into the spare seat.

  Bojangles is one of our favourite places in the world. It’s a bit scruffy, but it’s dead cosy, and the staff are always friendly to everyone. Even to people like us who make a drink last hours and can’t afford to tip much. The four walls are painted different colours, none of the chairs or tables match and cool music’s always playing – the kind that’s not in the charts and you wouldn’t listen to at home, but sounds perfect somewhere like here.

  “All right?” Danny says, twanging one of my ringlets.

  I squirm away. I hate it when he does that.

  As I reach out for Danny’s cola, he slaps at my hand. “Oi, get off. I ordered you a hot chocolate.”

  “With cream and marshmallows?”

  “Course. Like I’d dare forget.”

  “So where’ve you been all day, Suze?” Millie asks. “We’ve hardly seen you since break.”

  “Around,” I reply vaguely.

  “Seen Zach yet?”

  “Nope,” I say, giving her a shut-up-now-before-I-kill-you glare.

  “What was that face for?” Millie says, sounding hurt. “I only wondered.”

  “What’s going on with this Zach?” asks Danny. “Millie’s mentioned him a few times today.”

  Ever since we arrived at school this morning, Millie’s been dropping non-too subtle hints about what happened in the park. So far I’ve managed to avoid discussing it with Danny, but I think my luck may have run out.

  “Millie and Suze ran into a bit of trouble walking Murphy yesterday,” Jamie tells him, smirking at me.

  I scowl back.

  “Really?” Danny says. “What happened?”

  “Murphy’s besotted with some Yorkshire terrier and chased it halfway round the park before knocking over this guy,” I say quickly, before anyone else can speak.

  “Oh, c’mon, Suze,” Millie says, “it’s a much better story than that.”

  “Two hot chocolates?” With perfect timing, the waitress arrives at our table. The drinks she’s carrying are enormous, stacked high with whipped cream and miniature marshmallows. My mouth waters in anticipation.

  “Yumalicious, yes please,” Millie says.

  I reach out for my mug, but the waitress eyes me with alarm and, avoiding my hands, puts the cup carefully down on the table. Honestly. Just because there was a teensy spill a couple of weeks ago.

  I spoon a large helping of cream into my mouth and sigh with pleasure. “Mmm. This is the best. So, um, what’s everyone been up to?”

  “Don’t you go changing the subject again,” Danny says, poking my side. “Tell me what happened in the park.”

  “I already did,” I say, defensively.

  “Liar,” Danny says. “Millie?”

  Millie’s only too happy to oblige. “Well, Murphy ran wild because Suze let go of her lead. And what made you let go of the lead, Suzy?” There’s a mischievous glint in Millie’s eye.

  “I was getting a leaf out of my hair,” I improvise. “And let’s not forget I was doing you a favour by helping walk your dog,” I add meaningfully.

  “So it was nothing to do with the fact you were trying to impress Zach, then?” Millie teases.

  I nearly choke on my hot chocolate. “What? That’s such a lie, I was not!”

  “Who is Zach?” Danny asks again.

  “A new boy in my maths class,” Millie tells him.

  What am I supposed to say now? Talk about busted!

  If Danny had been caught flirting with some other girl, I’d be gutted. I pluck up the guts to peep at him out of the corner of my eye.

  Huh?

  He’s grinning. He actually thinks this is funny.

  “If that was your best attempt to impress someone, you’d best stick with me,” Danny says. “That poor guy probably didn’t know what hit him.”

  “I do, it was Murphy,” Millie says, and the three of them start to laugh.

  I don’t believe this. How can Danny be laughing? This is so typical of him. Sometimes I wonder if he cares about me at all.

  “Aren’t you bothered?” I ask.

  “Course not,” Danny scoffs. “Millie’s only joking and you wouldn’t go off with anyone else. C’mon, Suze, lighten up. What happened sounds hilarious.”

  “It wasn’t,” I protest, but that makes them snigger harder. “And how do you know I wouldn’t go off
with someone else?”

  “Because you wouldn’t,” Danny says. The way he says it, dead confidently, makes me so mad that something inside snaps.

  “Is it because you think nobody else could like me?” I ask sharply.

  Danny stops laughing. “Huh?”

  “Do you think nobody else would fancy me?”

  Suddenly the atmosphere around the table has changed, and nobody’s smiling any more. Millie and Jamie are staring at each other awkwardly, while Danny just seems confused.

  “What are you going on about, Suze?” Danny leans forwards, reaching for my hand, but I jerk it away. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Just leave me alone.” I stand up and storm out of the café. As I rush past the window, out of the corner of my eye I can see my friends staring after me in disbelief.

  Later that evening I’m grumpily pushing a piece of chicken round my plate and listening half-heartedly as Mum witters on about her mother-of-the-bride outfit.

  “The choice is between a hat and a fascinator,” she tells Dad and Aunt Lou, who clearly couldn’t care less. “What do you think? A hat is more traditional, of course, but a fascinator might be fun.”

  “A what-inator?” Dad asks. “It sounds like a robot.”

  “A fascinator,” Mum says, exasperated. “You know, a headpiece with feathers or flowers on it.”

  “What do you want to wear feathers on your head for?” Dad says, looking baffled. “Won’t you look like a cockerel?”

  “No, of course not,” Mum huffs. “And actually, I’m starting to wonder why I bother. You’re showing no interest in this wedding, all you do is make dismissive comments. It’s—”

  “What did you say you wanted to wear?” Aunt Loon interrupts.

  “A fascinator,” Mum repeats.

  “A what?”

  “A FASCINATOR,” Mum shouts, losing patience.

  “What’s that when it’s at home?” says Aunt Loon.

  Aaargh, make them stop! Why did Mum have to ask the Loon over for dinner? This conversation’s enough to make a person ram a skewer into their ears for some peace.

  Luckily for us all, Aunt Loon’s drowned out by the phone ringing.

  “Would you get that, Suzy?” Mum asks.

  “Why?”

  “Because you haven’t eaten anything and the rest of us are enjoying our meal. It’s probably for you anyway.”

  “It could be Millie with an international fashion disaster,” Dad jokes. “Shock, horror – she’s realised that her shoes don’t match her necklace, what should she do? Her life may as well be over.”

  I ignore him.

  “Suzy?” Mum says again.

  “What?”

  “Will you answer that phone?”

  “I’ll get it,” Harry says, jumping up.

  “Where’s she going?” Aunt Loon demands.

  “Phone, Aunt Lou,” Mum tells her.

  “Where?” Aunt Lou cups her hand around her ear.

  “The PHONE,” Mum yells.

  Aunt Loon looks disapproving. “Young ladies shouldn’t leave the dining table. We’re eating.”

  A few minutes later, Harry’s back.

  “It’s Danny,” she says to me, wiggling onto her chair. “He didn’t want to talk to me, just to you. He sounds weird.”

  Even though part of me wants to run as fast as I can towards that handset to sort things out, I will not budge from this table.

  “Have you gone deaf?” Dad asks. “What’s going on? Usually you and the phone are tighter than two coats of paint. You do realise something life-changing may have happened in the mere seconds that have passed since you last saw your friends?”

  “Chris,” Mum says, shaking her head slightly. “Is everything all right, Suzy?”

  “Uh-huh.” I stab at a piece of broccoli.

  “He said it was important,” Harry adds.

  “Tell him I’m busy.”

  “Tell him yourself.”

  “Harry, don’t be rude,” Mum tells her. “Go on, Suzy. Don’t keep Danny waiting.”

  I still don’t move.

  “Suzy,” Mum says warningly.

  “Okay, okay! I’m going.”

  I close the door firmly behind me, because this is one conversation I don’t want overheard, and pick up the handset Harry’s abandoned. I’ve not got a clue what I’m supposed to say. Danny and I have never had a fight this big before.

  Luckily Danny speaks first. “Suzy, are you there? I can hear breathing.”

  I lean against the wall and slide down it until I’m sitting on the floor. “Hi. Why didn’t you ring my mobile?”

  “I did. About eight times. You weren’t answering.”

  Oh. Right. I guess my phone’s still abandoned at the bottom of my bag.

  “Are you going to tell me what that was all that about earlier?” Danny doesn’t sound angry, but Harry was right, he doesn’t sound his usual self.

  Mum bustles past taking plates to the kitchen.

  “Are you still there?” Danny asks.

  “It’s difficult to talk right now,” I say. “There are people around.”

  Harry appears and starts leaping around in front of me. “Hey, is Danny coming over soon? Ask him, Suzy. Ask him.”

  “Get lost,” I say furiously.

  “What?” Danny says.

  “Not you. I’m talking to Harry.”

  “Let me speak, let me speak,” Harry whines.

  Mum races out of the kitchen and drags my sister away. “Sorry, Suzy.”

  “Suzy, what’s going on?” Danny asks.

  “Nothing.”

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No. Not really.”

  There’s a painful silence, then I hear him sigh heavily.

  “Look, this is hopeless,” he says. “I’m coming over. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

  “Danny, wait—”

  But it’s too late. He’s gone.

  The second I replace the handset the phone rings again.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Suze, ohmigod I’ve been dying to speak to you.”

  “Hey, Millie,” I say wearily.

  “Are you all right? I’ve been trying for ages to get through on your mobile but you weren’t answering. I thought you weren’t talking to me. I’m sooooo sorry for what happened. I didn’t mean to start a fight or anything. Have you talked to Danny?”

  “Yeah, just now. He’s coming over.”

  “Do you hate me?” Millie asks worriedly.

  “Of course I don’t hate you,” I tell her, “but why did you think it would be a good idea to tell Danny I’d been flirting with another guy?”

  “I know,” Millie says, sounding subdued. “It was just a dumb joke, I didn’t mean it. I really am sorry.”

  “Yeah, me too,” I say. “I completely overreacted.”

  “What was that about? You went kind of mental back there.”

  “I don’t know,” I tell her. “I was a complete cowbag, but I’ll sort everything out with Danny when he gets here.”

  “All right,” says Millie, although she sounds doubtful. “Text me later and let me know what happens. I’ll talk to you properly at school tomorrow, but it’ll be fine. I just know it.”

  “I know,” I say, although I’m starting to wonder.

  What if Danny thinks I’m the most horrible person in the world? What if he wants to break up? What if—

  The doorbell rings.

  I can’t stress about it any more.

  Danny’s here.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Danny’s standing on our doorstep, shifting his weight from foot to foot and fiddling with the zip on his coat. His hair’s all bushy from the wind and his cheeks are pink. Though he’s been here a million times, Danny’s acting like he doesn’t quite know where to put himself. Normally he’d be inside and rummaging through the fridge faster than you could say ‘free food’.

  “Come in,” I say awkwardly.

  “Th
anks,” Danny replies, stepping inside.

  I hear the back door close and Amber and Mark’s voices greet Mum in the kitchen. There’s some chatting, then Amber’s indignant voice says, “Mum, don’t listen to them, a fascinator would be perfect. I’m sure Conni G would approve, don’t you, Markymoo?”

  Gnargh, enough already with the stupid fascinator.

  “Did I hear the doorbell?” Dad sticks his head round the lounge door. “Oh, hello, Danny, how’s things?”

  “Hi, Mr Puttock,” Danny says. He’s known my parents forever, but he still can’t call them by their first names. Apparently it’s way too weird.

  “We’re going to my room,” I say.

  Dad peers over the top of his glasses. “Well, you know the rule.”

  Oh yes. The rule that dictates I must keep the door open at all times whenever Danny’s in my bedroom, to stop what Mum and Dad call ‘funny business’ going on.

  Exactly what they think we’re going to get up to, I don’t know. How can a person feel like doing anything even vaguely romantic with their entire family of crazies only millimetres away? Ick.

  “We need some privacy,” I say, without really thinking.

  Dad’s eyebrows threaten to shoot off the top of his head.

  “Um, we’re only going to talk,” Danny says quickly, his ears blushing bright red.

  Dad looks mightily relieved, but doesn’t back down. “You know the rule,” he repeats. “It’s door open, or downstairs. Your choice.”

  “It’s so unfair,” I mutter as I head upstairs, Danny following behind.

  “Life’s unfair,” Dad calls after us.

  Making sure the bedroom door’s open a crack, Danny and I settle ourselves at opposite ends of my bed. My room’s a tip. There’s a load of school books strewn over the floor, necklaces hanging from the desk lamp and discarded magazines chucked everywhere. Avoiding Danny’s gaze, I hug my old teddy, Wilbur, to my chest, and rest my chin on his head as I stare at the duvet, tracing the spiral pattern with my finger. I can tell Danny’s watching me.

  All of a sudden I think I might puke. I hate arguing. And I hate how I’ve been feeling lately. Why did I have to get all weirded out about Zach? I just want everything back the way it was.