“But I don’t—”
“I’m not looking for anything serious,” Zach says. “I need my space.”
Beside me I can hear Millie gasp.
“See ya,” he says, as he walks off.
Okay. It’s taking a while for all this to sink in. But I’m pretty sure I’ve just been dumped in the worst way possible.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
My life is over.
Later, I’m sitting in Bojangles, sucking hard on an extra-thick strawberry milkshake, and all I can think about is what Zach did to me.
In front of Danny.
In front of Jade.
In front of everyone.
NYARRRRRRRRRRRRGH!!!
I collapse down, face first, onto the table.
Ow. That really hurt.
I totally misjudged the distance to the tabletop. Well, isn’t that all I need? A head injury on top of everything else.
Fan-flaming-tastic.
“Ohmigod, Suze, are you okay?”
That’s a high-pitched, screechy voice which sounds a lot like Millie’s. But right now my head’s hurting loads and I feel a bit dizzy so I’m going to need a minute before I move…
“Help, we need an ambulance over here! My friend’s collapsed!”
Wait a minute. Is she talking about me?
I sit up woozily. “Wha— Millie, what’s happening?”
“Don’t move!” she says, rushing over.
All the other customers are staring at us, and seem more than slightly bemused by what’s going on.
“You’ve had an emotional trauma and now you’ve probably got concussion. Lie down here, I’m going to put you in the recovery position.”
“No way. These are my new jeans. I’m not lying on the floor.”
“But you collapsed. You might be seriously ill,” Millie says, trying to wrestle me onto the ground.
“Get off me. I didn’t collapse,” I say, pushing Millie off with one hand and wincing as I rub my forehead with the other.
“Is everything all right?” asks a waitress, heading towards us with a phone in her hand. “Should I call an ambulance or not? I don’t want to get sued.”
“I’m fine,” I tell her. “Honestly. My friend’s a bit of a drama queen, that’s all.”
“You sure?” The waitress sounds sceptical.
“I’m sure,” I say firmly.
The waitress rolls her eyes and heads back to the counter.
“Me a drama queen?” Millie says. “I’m not the one passing out in public. Ooh, is that strawberry?” She points at my drink. “Can I have some?”
I push the glass across the table to Millie.
She takes a big slurp and then remembers why she’s here. “So, um, are you okay?”
“No.”
Millie cringes. “Understandable. You must feel pretty bad.”
“Pretty bad? Pretty bad?” I shriek, as once more the customers turn to gawk. “That’s the understatement of the century. Zach dumped me! In front of everyone! Everyone including my ex, and his new girlfriend who hates my guts. If I don’t die of humiliation in the next hour, I’m moving to Outer Mongolia, and never coming back. My life is one long, embarrassing mess.” I wrap my arms around myself and rock backwards and forwards in despair. “Oooooooh, this is hideous.”
Millie thinks for a while before she speaks. “Yes, it’s bad, but it’s not like you wouldn’t have realised eventually.”
“Realised what?” I say, confused.
Nothing could have prepared me for what Millie says next.
“Zach’s a complete dumbass.”
“Huh?”
“Suze, how did you not realise sooner? I mean, sure he’s great to look at, but he’s got the personality of a stick.”
I take a moment to absorb what she’s said. “But… but… why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t want to upset you, and you were so hung up on him I knew you wouldn’t listen,” Millie says, fiddling with the straw. “I figured he’d show his real self sooner or later and you’d ditch him. Can I get one of these strawberry milkshakes, please?” Millie calls to the waitress, now she’s polished off most of mine.
“He dumped me,” I point out.
“But you’re not still into him, are you?” Millie asks. “Especially after what he’s just done.”
I shrug half-heartedly.
“Suzy…” Millie pauses for a moment. “Oh, I’m just going to ask. Your dates weren’t that great, were they?”
“They were,” I say.
Millie watches me intently.
“Oh, all right, they weren’t the best,” I mumble.
“I so knew you were lying!” Millie says triumphantly. “Sorry,” she adds quickly. “Totally inappropriate.”
“I did really like him though,” I say, as tears start collecting in my eyes.
“Hey, don’t cry. He’s so not worth it.” Millie reaches across the table and rubs my arm. “And I don’t think you liked him all that much, if you’re absolutely one hundred per cent honest about it.”
“I did,” I protest.
“Really?”
“Uh-huh.” I fiddle with my silver bangle.
“Then tell me why.”
“Do we have to do this? I don’t really want to think about his good points right now.”
“Just do it. Come on.”
I sniff loudly. “Oh, all right. Um, okay. He’s one of the best-looking people I’ve ever seen in real life. That smile, and those eyes, they’re just delish. And his arms… Millie, you said yourself, he’s yummy.”
“We’ve already agreed that he’s hot. But what about as a person?”
“Um, well…” I pause for a moment. Wow. This is harder than I thought. Zach’s not funny. Or good to talk to. I was always second best to football, or his mates. He was rude. Arrogant. And terrible at kissing.
But there must be something. C’mon, Suzy, think.
But nothing’s coming to mind. I’m totally stumped. Apart from his appearance I can’t think of a single good thing about him.
“See?” Millie says. “Sure he’s a hunky studmuffin of hotness, but he’s got nothing else going on. And the way he’s just treated you? Talk about a weasel. Why do you want to be with someone like that?”
Oh God. She’s right. What was I thinking?
“Have I made a total tit of myself?”
“Only a little bit,” Millie says. “But don’t worry, I’ll still be your bezzie.” She pats my shoulder consolingly.
I collapse down onto the table again.
Why have I been such an idiot?
It takes another milkshake and a giant piece of carrot cake before I feel strong enough to venture back into the big wide world and head home.
“Hello?” I call, as I open the front door.
Now I’m here, I wonder how much that ticket to Outer Mongolia would cost. Anything to avoid everyone at school next week. I might get online and investigate. I can change my Facebook relationship status from It’s complicated to Single at the same time.
“There you are, Suzy, you’re ever so late,” Mum says, rushing out of the kitchen. “Where’ve you been? You weren’t answering your phone again.” I don’t even have a chance to put down my bag before she’s grabbed me, spun me round and ushered me out of the house.
“Hey! What are you doing? I’ve got stuff to do.”
“No time,” Mum says, leaping into the car. “We’re picking up your bridesmaid’s dress tonight, remember?”
Oops. I’d completely forgotten about that.
“I’ve got so much to think about. We’ve got the dresses to collect now, thank goodness they open late tonight. Tomorrow I’ve got the favours to pack into bags, and the bakery is running late with the cake so I can’t collect that until Saturday morning now. Heaven knows where I’m going to find the time for that with everything else I’ve got to do. I can’t believe the wedding is this weekend. The time’s gone so fast, don’t you think? Now come on
, buckle up, we’re collecting Amber from work on the way.”
Mum manoeuvres out of the drive and races off down the road, nearly taking the wing mirrors off several parked cars as she goes. Amber’s driving skills are clearly inherited from the maternal side of the family.
I stare out of the window and sigh heavily.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
I shrug.
There are a couple of minutes of silence as Mum negotiates a right turn, then she asks, “Is this about Danny?”
I don’t answer. Like I want to talk to Mum, of all people, about my love life. I mean, hers has been a complete disaster. The best man she ever managed to bag was Dad. There’s no way she’s going to be able to help.
“Have you two not patched things up yet?” Mum says as we stop at traffic lights, and toots the horn in exasperation as the light turns green and the learner driver in front fails to set off in less than 0.1 seconds.
“Nothing to sort out. Danny’s seeing someone else,” I say flatly.
“Oh, come on,” Mum says, as the learner lets out an old man who starts pootling along at about five miles an hour. “Sorry, Suzy, what were you saying?”
“Danny’s got a new girlfriend,” I remind her glumly.
“Well, you’re seeing someone too, aren’t you? What happened to Zach?”
“That kind of… ended.” Even saying it makes me want to fling myself off the nearest cliff as I remember exactly how he ditched me.
Shuddersome.
Mum overtakes both the cars in front with an eye-wateringly scary manoeuvre. “Ah. Well, I didn’t think he was right for you. Try not to worry, there’s plenty more fish in the sea.”
“You’re a real help, Mum. Thanks,” I say sarcastically.
“It’s true. You’re still young. And I know you’re probably feeling pressured to find someone now you’ve broken up with Danny…”
“You what?” What’s she babbling on about? My mother is officially asylum-certifiable loony tunes.
“It’s only understandable,” Mum says, reaching over and patting my knee comfortingly. “You’ll get married one day, don’t worry.”
“Er, Mum, you do remember I’m fourteen, right? I’m not worried.”
“If you say so,” Mum says distractedly as we screech to a stop at the end of a long traffic queue. “Oh, what is going on with this road today?” She sticks her head out of the window. “Could you lot move out of the way?” she shouts. “I’ve got somewhere very important I need to be.”
“Haven’t we all, love?” I hear someone shout back, as I sink down into my seat, pull my hair over my face and hope nobody I know recognises me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Ow!” I object as the seamstress, not for the first time, jabs me with a pin. Standing in a department store while someone pokes, prods and attacks me with sharp, pointy items is definitely not my idea of fun.
The pink dress is just as bad as I remember. It’s kind of shiny, with large material flower rosettes all around the scoop neckline and circling the skirt. And it’s just so, well, girly. Not me at all. But I suppose at least now it fits properly.
“How’s your dress, Amber?” Mum says eagerly. “Does it look good?”
“Yeah, it’s okay,” Amber replies, her voice strangely flat.
That’s weird. For a girl who gushed for a week about the hand-sewn pink sequins on her veil, she doesn’t sound too happy.
“It’s a good job it still fits. I must say, I do think it’s strange you’ve managed to put on weight before the wedding,” Mum says. “I lost half a stone before mine.”
“I guess it’s all the stress eating I’ve been doing,” Amber says gloomily. I hear the curtain in her cubicle swish back. “I hope I don’t look like a hippo.”
“You don’t, you’re absolutely beautiful,” Mum says, not seeming to notice Amber’s lack of enthusiasm. “How are you getting on, Suzy?” Mum sticks her head past my curtain.
“Okay, thanks, Mum.”
“You look beautiful too,” Mum says, her voice catching in her throat. “Oh, my two little girls. I’m so proud of you both.”
Uh oh. She’s getting emotional. Any minute now she’s going to demand a Puttock family hug, or something equally horrendous. I need to distract her. Fast.
“Mum, would you get me a pair of tights to try on with this dress, please?”
“What for? We’ve got plenty at home.”
“Yes, but, um, I, er, want to get the full effect of the outfit. You know, how it’s going to look on the big day, that kind of thing.”
“Oh, well, in that case, not at all. Back in a mo.”
Phew. She’s gone.
“I need some more pins,” the seamstress says snottily, standing up. “This hem’s coming loose. It’ll need fixing now.” She purses her lips, frowns like it’s my fault and sweeps off.
And it’s then I hear the noise.
Sni ff. Sniff. SNIFF!
Sounds like someone’s crying. And if it’s not me, it must be…
“Amber?”
No answer.
Oh, I hope she’s crying because she’s happy. Please, please, please let that be it.
“Amber?” I repeat.
Sniff.
“Yes?” Amber replies shakily.
“Um, are you crying?”
SNIFF!
“Amber, are you okay?”
“Uh huh,” Amber says, unconvincingly.
“Are you sure?”
Sniff. Sniff.
There’s a pause and then a loud wail. “Noooooo! Suuuuuzy, I don’t think I can do this!”
“Do what?” A heavy feeling of dread gives me an inkling of what she’s about to say.
“I don’t think I can get maaaaaarrrrrriiiiiieeeeed!”
Seriously? I knew something was going on with her.
This is the wedding of the century. Mum’s been planning it for months. And Amber’s supposed to be walking down the aisle in less than forty-eight hours. What does she mean, she doesn’t think she can get married? And more importantly, what am I supposed to do about it? No way am I the right person to be speaking to about relationships, not with my love life so bruised and battered it’s practically roadkill.
Suzy, think. Think!
First things first. There’s no way Mum can find out about this. She’ll spasm so hard they’ll feel the repercussions worldwide.
I spot a shop assistant nearby, fluffing up dresses.
“Psssst!”
No response.
“Psssssst!” I hiss louder.
The shop assistant turns around. “Was there something you wanted?”
“Yes,” I beckon to her wildly. “Can you do me a favour?”
The woman walks over warily. “How can I help?”
“You see that lady over there?” I show her Mum, who’s currently frowning at the packets of tights. “I need you to take her to the very far side of the shop and not let her come back until I give you a signal.”
The assistant’s thinly plucked brows furrow together. “And why would this be necessary?”
“You hear that?” I whisper, as a loud sob comes from the next changing room along. “That’s my sister and she’s crying. Her wedding is on Saturday. I have a very, very bad feeling that things might have gone very, very wrong and my mum, who is borderline certifiable when it comes to this event, cannot find out about this under any circumstances. I need some help here.”
The assistant suddenly becomes a lot more understanding. I bet she’s one of those people that love a drama. “I understand,” she says in a low voice. “I’m always happy to lend a hand in an emergency. Your sister hasn’t had an affair has she? Or maybe she’s pregnant with someone else’s baby, or…”
“I don’t know,” I say through clenched teeth. “And the reason I don’t know is because I haven’t managed to talk to her yet. So please go and be distracting. Quick, Mum’s coming.”
Sure enough, Mum is heading towards the changi
ng rooms, waving a box and beaming. “Suzy, I’ve got them…”
“I’m sure you haven’t explored all the options,” the shop assistant says, taking Mum’s arm and steering her away. “It’s so important to get the right denier in a tight, you know…”
Right. That’s Mum taken care of. Now all I have to do is sort out Amber.
When I push the changing-room curtain aside, Amber is sitting on the floor, leaning up against the mirror. Her puffy gown is so huge it’s practically up round her ears and her cheeks are streaked with dark mascara.
“Don’t get make-up on your dress,” I shriek.
“I don’t care about the stupid dress,” Amber says, picking up the hem of her skirt. She’s about to blow her nose on it but I whisk the material out of her clutches just in time.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her, sinking down onto the floor beside her, then yelp as a pin sticks into my tush. “Pin in a Puttock buttock,” I explain, trying to raise a smile.
I fail.
Once I’ve removed the offending pin, and several more besides, I settle gingerly onto the floor.
“What’s going on, Ambs?” I try again.
“I don’t think I can do this,” Amber says, ruffling the folds of her frock. “It’s so, so, big, you know?”
“Your dress?” Well, phew. Thank all that is holy for that. Only Amber could have such a freak-out over clothes.
“No,” Amber says crossly, frothing the material. “I mean the whole marriage thing. I’ve only known Mark a year, and now I’m going to be with him forever. Forever and ever and ever. Just Mark. Nobody else. Until I die.”
Uh oh. This is more than the usual Amber wobbler. This actually sounds serious.
“Well… yeah,” I say, gently. “That’s kind of the point of getting hitched, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know. I always thought it was about the dress, and being a princess for a day.” Amber’s shamefaced. “I guess I hadn’t really thought about the marriage part. I’m going to be someone’s wife. I’m going to be Mrs Mycock!”
“You could always keep your maiden name,” I say.
Amber glares.
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