Boy Meets Hamster

by Birdie Milano

  Though, at the same time, I sort of wanted to tuck my head down against my knees, roll backwards through the caravan door, and hide for about a million years.

  I knew who this was.

  I thought I did.

  He swung his rucksack on to the ground and sat down beside me. ‘I had to get them to drop me off when I saw you. It’s kind of a novelty to be able to say hey directly to your face.’

  I’d been hiding in a hedge, last time, with my shoulders wedged too tightly between the branches to turn around. And before that I’d had the bum of my jeans for a head. I couldn’t actually understand why he’d want to say anything to me at all. But he ducked his head a bit as I blinked at him, and his smile only got warmer, and brighter. It was like sitting next to a little piece of the sun.

  ‘So, hey, Dylan,’ he said.

  ‘Hey, Leo.’

  He squinted at me, like he was noticing something for the first time, and glanced up at the clear blue sky. ‘Has it been raining?’

  THIRTY-TWO

  I’d completely forgotten how cold and wet I was, though when Leo mentioned it I was suddenly aware of a steady, chilly dripping as shower water spiralled down the back of my neck and slid under the collar of my T-shirt. It just didn’t feel that bad any more. I’d even stopped shivering.

  They should send people like him out to do mountain rescue. He’d be a thousand times better than one of those dogs with little barrels of brandy on their collars. One smile could turn all the snow to slush.

  I wasn’t even too flustered about looking like I’d decided to wash my clothes while I was still wearing them. If he hadn’t thought I was a total weirdo who should be kept at arm’s length after seeing me with jeans on my head, it probably wasn’t going to happen now.

  Shaking my head, I laughed as he ducked the little flecks of water that sprayed off me. ‘It hasn’t been raining, exactly. But is it possible to have a personal raincloud that follows you round all the time? Because I think I might have one of those.’

  Leo looked up again. The sky was still endlessly blue. ‘I’d say no,’ he started, slowly. ‘But the soggy evidence is on your side. Looks like your raincloud’s hiding right now though.’

  ‘Gathering energy for the next storm.’ I sighed. ‘Every time it seems like it’s giving me a break, it just comes back worse.’

  ‘See, that’s your mistake,’ Leo said, rummaging through a pocket of his rucksack, his hair falling forward into a thick curtain to hide his face. It seemed unfair: I’d only just seen what he really looked like, and I already felt like I wanted to make up for lost time.

  ‘What mistake?’

  ‘If it’s giving you a break,’ he said, pulling a small cloth-covered parcel out and offering it across to me, ‘you should be using the downtime to prepare.’

  I put Jude’s card down between us, and took the blue-and-white-striped bundle.

  It was an umbrella.

  ‘See. Now you’ll be ready.’

  Nobody had ever given me an umbrella before. Just holding it made the next storm feel a very long way away.

  ‘Do you think it’ll help?’ he asked.

  I nodded. A drop of water dislodged itself from my hairline and rolled slowly down over my nose. ‘Next time that cloud comes for me, I’ll be one step ahead. I haven’t got anything to give you though.’

  ‘I’m not being stalked by my own personal weather phenomenon.’ Leo rocked back on his heels. ‘And you don’t have to—’

  ‘How about a biscuit?’ I broke in. ‘Mum’s got this thing about guests and biscuits, so we’ve always got some around. Although the only guest we usually have is my nana, so I think it’s really just a cover for Mum’s addiction to custard creams.’

  My mouth was doing that thing where it was running on ahead of my brain again. I knew words were happening; I just had no control over them until they were out in the wild. Trying to sound normal was like trying to lasso a bolting horse.

  I pushed myself to my feet before Leo could protest, like I’d suddenly been possessed by the ghost of a housewife from hell. I didn’t care about biscuits; I just needed to take a second to blush in private. ‘I’ll get some – wait here.’

  Dashing into the caravan, I took two very deep breaths, and borrowed Jude’s tin of Iced Gems before he could make himself sick in various colours of frosted pastel.

  A waft of music from the TV accompanied me as I stepped back outside, hoping against hope that the word-horse was back in the vocabulary stable and I might manage to sound normal from here on.

  It wasn’t exactly the theme tune I’d have chosen to emerge to, but Leo was making a face of pleased recognition. ‘Twinkle! My littlest sister’s mad on that; she’s a superfan.’

  ‘She’ll have to fight my brother for that title, and he’s vicious in a thumb war.’ I settled down again, putting the tin on my knee. ‘Iced gem?’

  Leo was holding something too. He held it up to show me. ‘Is this what you’re a superfan of?’

  I LOVE NIBBLES blinked at me in glitzy, smudgy red, and I felt the blush in my cheeks returning. But then I thought about it for a minute. ‘I used to want to call pest control out on him. But now I’ve met some other rats and –’ I shrugged – ‘he could be worse.’

  I looked across at the Dramavan without thinking, reaching into the Iced Gem tin to distract myself from dwelling on Jayden-Lee.

  Leo reached in at the same time, and when his fingers brushed mine, I felt something.

  Electricity.

  We both caught quick hissed breaths at the snap of static between us, and I turned my head to find that he was laughing.

  ‘Sorry—’

  ‘Sorry—’

  Even our apologies met in the middle. We both paused, looking at each other. My stomach didn’t lurch, though, the way it always had when Jayden-Lee’s eyes met mine. It just tied itself into a knot, and pulled tight.

  ‘Are you going to the fair later?’ Leo asked. His hand was so warm that my cold one was like a negative image. ‘I heard you can get hamster selfies.’

  Then, before it got too weird to be almost holding hands in a biscuit tin, he picked a blue gem out and crunched it.

  ‘It’s not really a selfie, though, unless he’s taking it?’

  Leo shook his head. ‘Paws are too big for the buttons.’

  I grinned, picking my own gem and dropping it into my mouth. Then I shook my head. ‘I’m barred. Jude’s going, though.’

  ‘You’re what?’ Both his eyebrows lifted into perfect curves.

  ‘I’m . . .’ I tried to remember exactly how Margaret had put it, imitating the squeak of her voice. ‘Banned, barred and prohibited from all gatherings and events within the park. Until the Park of the Year Award’s given out, anyway. And we’ll be gone by then.’

  It was quite a good impression, I thought. Leo looked like he couldn’t decide whether to be impressed or outraged.

  ‘What’s she got against you? It’s not like you peed in the pool.’

  He was there too? I had to force myself not to think too hard about what he might have heard.

  ‘No, but she thinks it’s my fault. Every disastrous thing that’s happened since we got here’s been my fault – and Jude’s not allowed into the Stardance, either, because his chair’s a fire hazard.’

  Leo let a breath whistle between his teeth. ‘That’s all nonsense. She’s just looking for someone to blame if she doesn’t get that prize, that’s all. It’s always madness here.’

  ‘Riots, pool evacuations and rivers of puke?’ I asked doubtfully.

  ‘That’s on a good day. It’s never dull, but I’m not going to be sorry to get out of here at the end of the season.’

  ‘You’re leaving?’ I realized too late I sounded upset at the idea. Which was even more stupid when I remembered we were going back to Woking tomorrow afternoon. It just felt for one moment like there was a chance for something good to happen, and I could already sense it passing me by.

  �
�It’s only a summer job. I don’t go to school round here, so Mum likes having me close to her in the holidays. Plus they had a spare uniform lying around that turned out to be a perfect fit.’

  ‘You don’t go to school in Cornwall?’ I had to stop repeating everything he said.

  ‘No, I go to a dance college near London,’ he said. ‘Listen, If you—’

  ‘EILEEN SLATER, YOU GET OUT HERE!’

  A loud screech drowned out whatever Leo had been trying to say. A woman in a blue velour tracksuit was marching towards the Dramavan. She was dragging a small, greenish-looking child, and clutching an ornamental flamingo in the same way an ancient Japanese warrior might brandish a samurai sword.

  ‘Don’t you worry, Alfie,’ she muttered as she passed us. ‘If that little brat won’t say he’s sorry this time, this is getting shoved somewhere the sun don’t shine.’

  She dragged open the Dramavan door and vanished inside. Leo was already on his feet.

  ‘Duty calls.’

  I hurriedly put the card and biscuit tin down on the ramp. ‘Do you need any help?’

  ‘Better not.’ He unclipped a walkie-talkie from his belt. ‘I don’t want to get you in more trouble. I’ll have backup here in a minute. Besides, I’d really like it if you could manage not to get thrown out of the park before I catch up with you again. OK?’

  ‘I—’

  There was a roar from the Dramavan like a lion tackling a gazelle.

  I nodded hastily. ‘OK.’

  Leo grabbed his rucksack and started to run. I watched him go. Watched him yell into his walkie-talkie about a code red. I watched the open top pocket of his oversized bag flap open, and stared at the giant, orange hamster head grinning soullessly out.

  Swallowing hard, I stared back down at Jude’s card.

  I LOVE YOU, NIBBLES.

  As a string of shrieked swear words erupted from the caravan opposite, I bolted back inside my own.

  THIRTY-THREE

  ‘My only love sprung from my only hate!’ I whispered dramatically, throwing myself back against the closed door and slowly sliding down it to the floor. That was a quote from the Shakespeare play we’d done in English last year. I felt quite connected with Shakespeare: for someone that old he was really good at being miserable and romantic.

  Jude shuffled along the sofa edge to peer down at me. ‘What?’

  ‘We’d better get you dressed or you’ll be late,’ I corrected, sighing. ‘You don’t want to miss your big hamster date.’

  Shakespeare did rhyming couplets too. Maybe I’d found my calling, and thwarted love would inspire me to greatness. I’d rather it didn’t though. All things considered, I’d rather be ordinary and have a boyfriend at least once in my life. Being thwarted was definitely not all it was cracked up to be.

  Not that boyfriends were any kind of prospect right now. I couldn’t even leave the caravan. And Leo seemed . . . well, amazing, but Jude had more chance of ever seeing him again. While my little brother was off presenting one secretly handsome hamster with a handmade gesture of his affection, I was banned, barred and prohibited from the whole fair.

  It was better that I didn’t go, anyway. I’d embarrassed myself over a pointless crush enough for one lifetime already, let alone one week. Leo couldn’t like me that way. The electricity we’d felt was probably just a static shock from sitting on metal steps in wet jeans.

  So it was totally, utterly, definitely for the best that I didn’t go to the fair.

  Leaning over, Jude tapped me on the shoulder with something small and solid, then dropped it on my head. ‘Mummy says you have to take me.’

  ‘Mummy says what?’ I scrabbled to dig whatever it was out of the back of my collar. My phone – I’d left it on the table while trying to de-pink Jude in the shower. I’d missed a call, and there was a message on the screen.

  What on earth was a golf emergency? They weren’t even playing with full-sized clubs. I didn’t know whether I should be worrying more about the possibility that Dad had sat on a miniature windmill and got one of the spokes wedged somewhere uncomfortable, or the near certainty that Margaret would catch me at the funfair and string me up from one of the carriages of the big wheel.

  From outside the caravan, I could hear yelling and thudding. Security must have turned up to intervene in the Mum-off at the Dramavan. If I went back out now I might get to see Leo again and check that he was OK. But I couldn’t move.

  If Margaret had anything to do with it, next time Security showed up they’d be coming for me.

  I tipped my head back to look up at Jude. ‘Are you sure you want to go to the fair? It can be a bad idea to meet your heroes. Remember when Dad met the Woking FC goalie in Pasta Pronto, and got mistaken for a waiter?’

  Dad had stood there with his football scarf trailing in one hand, while having an order yelled at him: I’ll have el spag bol with un bottle of Chateau Magnifico por favore, garçon.

  ‘What if he’s not the hamster you think he is, Jude? I just don’t want you getting your heart broken over this. We could stay in and watch Twinkle’s Time to Shine, instead. It would be safer.’

  And it might distract me from thinking too hard about whether my heart was capable of breaking again too.

  Above me, Jude had wriggled across the sofa until he was lying flat on his stomach. He pulled himself forward like a swimmer crossing a channel of scratchy pinkish wool, and tipped himself over the side until his face was upside down in front of mine.

  ‘I,’ he said.

  ‘Want,’ he added.

  ‘NIBBLES. I WANT NIBBLES! I WANT NIBBLES. I. WANT. NIBBLES!’ he foghorned directly into my face.

  It looked like I was going to the fair.

  ‘OK, OK,’ I muttered, getting to my feet and hauling Jude up into my arms. ‘I’ve got the message. I’ve also got two burst eardrums, so thanks for that, but I’ve got it. You want to see Nibbles again.’

  Then, while his cheering mostly drowned me out, I added quietly to myself, ‘Me too.’

  While I got Jude changed into his fanciest date-wear (and talked him out of the panda onesie that was his first choice), I sent a quick message to Kayla. If she checked it as soon as she’d finished yoga, she might be able to intercept me and take Jude before I was caught by Margaret and publically pilloried at the coconut shy.

  I risked a glance out of the window when we were ready. The Dramavan looked as serene as anywhere guarded by a porcelain frog in a tutu and a dozen grinning garden gnomes could. There was no security hanging about. No Leo.

  The coast was clear, so I checked Jude had his autograph book and Valentine’s card, and opened the door.

  ‘Why has your caravan got a slide, anyway?’ Jayden-Lee asked, from where he was sitting in the grass.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  It was our grass that he was sitting on. Our ornament-free, slightly scruffy excuse for a lawn. He had his back against the side of the caravan. Our caravan. Pointing to our front door.

  It was like he was waiting for me. Just sitting there with his knees drawn up and his football making a dent in the greenery. For the first time ever, looking at him made my skin prickle with irritation instead of adoration.

  ‘It’s for my brother,’ I told him, standing at the top of the ramp. We had an accessible caravan, with extra-wide doors and a seat in the shower, and a ramp so people could get in and out without having to climb stairs.

  I didn’t ask Jayden-Lee what he wanted. If he’d decided that today was a good day to pay me back for being made to suffer a hygienic hose down at the Swim Centre, then he’d picked a seriously bad time. I had enough to worry about. He’d dropped right down my list.

  But it didn’t seem like he was out to pick a fight. He didn’t even get up. ‘Oh, right. Yeah, I guess it might be fun for people like him.’

  Now, I’m not an especially angry person. I don’t pick fights with match officials, like my dad, and I don’t smilingly tear people apart the way Mum sometimes does. I’m definitely not
capable of destroying someone with a few carefully chosen words, the way Kayla can. But, sometimes, enough is just enough.

  ‘It’s not a slide; it’s a ramp. It’s something people use to get downstairs when walking isn’t an option.’

  Jayden-Lee just shrugged, but I was already pounding down the echoey ramp and heading towards him. I wanted to say this while Jude was still inside.

  Stamping across the grass, I kept my voice low. ‘His name is Jude, and from now on that’s the only name you get to call him. And yeah, he has a disability. But he’s not “people like him” – he’s just a person. More than that, he’s my little brother, and no one gets to make him feel bad while I’m around. So I’m going to take him to the fair, and you’re going to keep your mouth shut, all right?’

  I folded my arms over my chest just in case the nervous rumba my heart seemed to be dancing was visible from the outside. Jayden-Lee dropped a hand into the grass at his side and pushed himself up on to it. He drew one foot underneath him, then he stood up.

  He was quite a bit taller than me, this close. For a second I caught myself thinking about the scar on his lip again, only this time I was wondering if he’d got it in a fight. It crinkled up and almost disappeared as he twisted his mouth into a scowl.

  ‘Whatever. All I’m saying is, if it was a slide, it would be a crap one.’

  I stared at him, wondering how he’d somehow missed my point as it whooshed right over his head. I’d tried everything but brute force. Maybe if just I left what I’d said hanging in the air it might seep into him slowly through his skin somehow, the way sunshine gets into plants.

  ‘Fine.’ I kept my eyes on him and dipped my chin in a sketch of a nod. ‘If you’ve really got to insult something, it may as well be the ramp. Now I’ve got to go.’