Secrets, Lies, and Locker 62

by Lil Chase

  This instantly gets my back up. Why do I have to carry Mum’s reputation round me like chunky costume jewellery?

  ‘And she achieved so much – after her false start.’

  Oh God, please don’t, Mr Holt, please.

  ‘What are you talking about, sir?’ Karmella asks him.

  No. Don’t say it. Please.

  ‘Maya’s mother was your age when she had her. Try to imagine …’

  But there is no point in him continuing. No one is listening. Even Zeba has turned to stare at me. The room is filled with the noise of thirty people trying to whisper quietly, but all I can hear is my name, on repeat. I bury my head on the desk.

  ‘Calm down, class.’ Mr Holt is trying to stop the madness that he caused. ‘We should be applauding Maya’s mother. She overcame the struggles of her teenage years and became very successful in her field. She should be an inspiration to you all. Not that I’m recommending—’

  The bell goes and everyone gets up. Karmella turns to me. ‘Wow, your mum was an early starter,’ she says.

  Zeba puts her arm round me. ‘Come on, Maya, let’s get out of here.’

  I throw her a weak smile as I start to gather my things up.

  ‘Raising a kid at our age must have been tough.’ I don’t look up, but from the deep voice and the clean-clothes smell I can tell it’s Luke. ‘I think your mum is brave.’

  That was a really sweet thing to say. I lift my head to say something back, but he’s already walking out the door.

  Zeba’s silence, a phenomenon that has never happened before, shows that she is just as shocked as I am.

  ‘I … He … Luke …’ she says.

  ‘I know!’ I say. ‘I’m not completely fluent in Boysish, but that was weird, yeah?’

  Zeba nods. She picks up the rest of my stuff and piles it in my arms and we walk out. But Mr Holt takes the opportunity to say something.

  ‘Maya?’

  Oh no, he’s going to apologize. I stand holding the door half open so I can make a run for it if I need to.

  ‘Maya, I feel like a fool,’ he says. He looks me in the eyes so I look away. ‘I shouldn’t have—’

  ‘It’s fine, sir,’ I say. ‘I meant to ask, what is the atomic number for—’

  But he sees through my ploy and carries on. ‘It was stupid of me to bring up your mother.’ He’s shaking his head and I can see that he really regrets it. ‘I only mentioned anything because I am genuinely impressed by what she has achieved.’

  I nod in the direction of the hallway. ‘I have to go, I’m going to be late.’

  ‘Yes, yes. You go. But I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.’

  This is just as embarrassing. Oh no, Karmella and Rochelle are still in the room and this is worse than embarrassing.

  ‘Don’t know why you are apologizing to her, sir,’ says Karmella. ‘Daughter of a teen mum? You just gave Maya some street cred!’

  Did he?

  ‘Did I?’ he asks. ‘I don’t see—’

  Rochelle nods at me as she walks out of the door. ‘Maya, Mr Holt just put you on the map.’

  I can’t help but smile. Rochelle just said I’m on the map!

  ‘Thanks, Mr Holt.’ I run out of the room after Karmella and Rochelle. I watch them walk along the corridor, hugging their files in front of them with their backpacks slung over one shoulder. I take my backpack off one of my shoulders and hold my file in front of me, like they do.

  ‘What are you doing?’ asks Zeba.

  I forgot she was there. ‘What?’

  ‘Why are you carrying your bag like that?’ She scans me up and down. ‘Are you copying Karmella?’

  ‘No!’ Yes. ‘It’s more comfortable.’ My treacherous bag falls off my shoulder and I have to hoist it back on.

  ‘Looks it,’ says Zeba, raising an eyebrow at me.

  I move a little faster to catch up with Karmella and Rochelle. We round the corner and I spot them going into the girls’ toilets.

  ‘Why are you walking so fast?’ asks Zeba.

  ‘Er, I need the loo.’

  ‘I’ll come with you.’

  I wave her away. ‘It’s OK, I’ll meet you in French.’

  ‘Oxygen Potassium,’ she says.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘O. K. You know. From chemistry.’

  ‘Riiiight.’

  ‘Smell ya later.’ She sticks her headphones on and starts wailing a song as she walks down the corridor.

  I see some people from the year above grimace as she passes them. I like Zeba and everything, but Karmella has a point: I wish my goth friend was more self-aware sometimes. Now that she’s gone I can talk to Karmella properly without Zeba embarrassing me. Deep breath, and I push the door to the girls’ toilets.

  Karmella and Rochelle turn to see who has walked in, poised in position to do their lipstick.

  ‘Hi, guys, what are you doing in here?’

  Karmella looks at me like that’s the grossest question she’s ever been asked, and considering where we are, she’s got a point.

  ‘Do you want, like, the full details?’

  I shake my head. Then I laugh, as if Karmella has just said the funniest thing in the world.

  Karmella smiles at me. Actually smiles. ‘Well,’ she says, ‘aren’t you a turn-up for the books?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I ask.

  ‘First you have this long-lost Year 12 boyfriend,’ she says. ‘And now you have this super-cool mum who’s been having sex since she was our age.’

  I shrug. Change the subject. ‘So what did you get up to with Ben Sands the other night?’ I ask.

  Karmella drops her lipstick. ‘Why?’ she says. ‘Do you like him?’

  ‘No … Yes … I mean, I like him, but—’

  ‘You do like him!’ says Rochelle with a grin.

  ‘Is it that obvious?’ But I know that it is from how hot I’m suddenly feeling.

  Karmella and Rochelle nod.

  ‘Do you think he knows?’ I ask.

  Karmella flaps in my direction. ‘Ben’s used to girls fancying him. I wouldn’t worry about it.’

  ‘Do you fancy him?’ I’m afraid of the answer. Because if Karmella says yes, then I know I haven’t got a chance.

  Karmella laughs like I’m her four-year-old sister. ‘Ben Sands? No!’ she says. ‘He’s sweet and everything, but he’s not my type. I like sixth-formers. Maybe a Year 11 if he was really fit.’

  I feel relieved. ‘Anyone in particular?’ I ask her.

  ‘I’m biding my time,’ she says, flipping her hair. ‘Making Craig Baker – he’s in Year 13 – wait until I give him my answer. I’m in the treating-him-mean stage of keeping him keen.’

  ‘Whatever,’ Rochelle says. ‘Forget about Craig Baker – why did you ask if we could work in threes in English today?’ she asks me. ‘We almost had to work with Billy Beckworth?’

  ‘Yeah, that would have sucked,’ says Karmella.

  ‘Can you blame me?’ I say. ‘I’m paired with Luke Marino!’

  Karmella looks shocked as she remembers. ‘Oh yeah … poor you!’

  I nod. I’m frowning like this is upsetting news, but somehow I’m chatting with the two coolest girls in our year, which is great.

  ‘Whoa,’ says Karmella. ‘You’ll be lucky if you survive the month.’

  ‘I know!’ I say.

  ‘He broke some kid’s leg in his last school,’ Karmella tells me. ‘The poor kid he beat up never fully recovered and has to stay on permanent painkillers.’

  ‘That’s hideo— Er, that’s horrible.’

  ‘Yeah,’ says Rochelle, ‘but we almost had to pair up with Billy the div! That’s so much worse. I mean, Billy Beckworth, is, like, the saddest boy in the whole school.’

  ‘He stinks like gangrenous feet,’ says Karmella. Then she bursts out laughing, so I do too.

  ‘I don’t know who I feel more sorry for,’ I say. ‘Me, for sitting next to a psychopath, or you for sitting next to Billy Beckworth, who might m
urder you with his pong.’

  Karmella laughs again, but Rochelle frowns.

  ‘Actually someone must have bought him aftershave,’ she says. ‘He smells pretty good.’

  ‘Uh-oh,’ says Karmella, shaking her head in pity. ‘His smell has infected your brain. Next you’ll be wearing his bright PVC coats, and you’ll walk around with stains all over your clothes.’

  ‘Oh God, no way, never!’ Rochelle says, looking disgusted. ‘But do you think that if he went on some makeover show, changed his rubbish clothes and did something about his hair sticking up he could—’

  ‘Tell you what Roche … elle,’ I say. I have an idea that will kill three birds with one stone. ‘We could ask Miss Draper if I could swap places with Billy. That way I wouldn’t have to sit next to psycho Luke and you wouldn’t have to sit next to Billy the div.’ (And I could become part of the cool group.)

  ‘Oh, thanks, Maya,’ she says, ‘but I bet she’d just say no. I’m going to be stuck next to Billy forever. I mean, I’ll probably end up marrying him or something.’ She pauses and looks at Karmella and me.

  Karmella sighs. ‘If it ever came to that, you should do a Hillary Randle and run away.’

  ‘Huh, yeah,’ she agrees.

  The bell rings for the next lesson and we walk out of the bathroom.

  ‘See you later, Maya,’ says Karmella.

  ‘Bye, Maya,’ says Rochelle.

  ‘Er, yeah, bye,’ I say. We walk our separate ways and I watch them go. I’m so pleased with how that went I can’t move for a moment.

  The hall clears. Luke Marino is the only person left. He has his back to me as he says, ‘Have you done what I told you?’

  At first I think he must be talking to me, but then I realize he’s got someone shoved up against the wall. His voice is deeper than normal, and even from the other side of the corridor I feel scared. I creep sideways and I see he’s standing over the freckly boy – Angus McAllister – pinning him back by his arms.

  ‘I … I …’ Angus is pale and cowering. ‘Not yet, Luke, I …’ He flinches as Luke brings his hand up to hit him.

  I can’t help myself and I say, ‘No!’ I didn’t mean to say it out loud. I didn’t mean to say it at all.

  Luke and Angus turn round.

  Luke drops Angus’s arms and says, ‘Maya,’ as if my name just fell out of his mouth. Angus takes the opportunity to run off down the hall.

  I stare at Luke and he stares at me.

  Then I run too.

  Chapter 15

  ‘What do you two know about handwriting analysis?’ asks Frankie.

  Zeba and I shake our heads as we sit on my bedroom floor in the middle of our Saturday Secret Session.

  ‘We need to compare size of letters,’ she says, ‘and the gradients of the curves in o’s and d’s and e’s.’ Frankie has clearly done her research. I start looking at the pieces of paper on the floor while Frankie continues. ‘Of course there are the more distinctive features: using symbols for the dots on i’s, excessive slanting, a certain colour of pen, for example.’

  I scan my eyes up and down the secrets on the floor, looking for any of these telltale signs. I see one with very unusual writing; slanted to the left at a 45-degree angle. I pick up the secret. ‘Listen,’ I say, and start to read it out.

  ‘Oh, that’s interesting!’ says Zeba.

  ‘Maybe it’s one of those girls, Rochelle or Karmella,’ says Frankie.

  Zeba guffaws. ‘You wouldn’t know, Frankie, because you’ve never seen either of them, but the idea of Rochelle or Karmella fancying Billy is insane. Right, Maya?’

  ‘Right,’ I say. ‘They only go for older guys.’

  Frankie looks a little hurt and examines the sleeve of her baby-blue Pony Club jumper.

  ‘The only thing Billy Beckworth is good at is Laser Quest,’ Zeba adds. ‘Apparently he’s a record holder.’

  ‘Quite an accomplishment, I’m sure,’ says Frankie, who doesn’t look at all impressed.

  But hang on a minute: wasn’t Rochelle talking about Billy Beckworth loads in the toilets yesterday? If it’s her, I could befriend her and persuade her to go out with him. Or, even better, I could work on upping Billy Beckworth’s coolness rating – then Rochelle will be so grateful she’ll want to be my friend.

  Something about the handwriting on a secret we looked at a few days ago sticks out.

  ‘Look at the writing,’ I point out. ‘It’s identical.’

  The girls lean over and hmm in agreement. I put the two secrets side by side on the floor. The handwriting on both has the same 45-degree slant and spikiness.

  Zeba gasps. ‘She writes her “the”s in exactly the same way!’

  ‘These two secrets are written by the same person,’ says Frankie.

  I shake my head slowly. ‘You know what – I actually think Rochelle did write these. She was going on and on about Billy Beckworth … and Karmella can be … Karmella is a little …’

  ‘Karmella’s a bitch,’ Zeba finishes for me.

  Frankie tuts at the insult, then says, ‘We need a plan.’

  But my mind is blank. And from the looks on Frankie’s and Zeba’s faces, their minds are even blanker than mine.

  We’re taking a coffee break from secrets. Frankie, Zeba and I head into town for a Saturday Starbucks Session. We push open the door and walk in.

  In the far corner Karmella, Rochelle, Gary Cohen and Ben Sands are sitting on the comfy sofas.

  Frankie follows my gaze and sees Ben Sands. ‘Who’s the hottie?’ she asks.

  ‘He’s—’

  But she doesn’t let me finish. ‘I can’t whistle, but I can do this: Arrrroooooooo!’ She howls like a werewolf at full moon. Everyone in the coffee shop looks at her, and looks at me standing next to her. Everyone including Ben Sands. Who laughs his head off.

  Frankie has just made a fool of herself in her baby-blue pony jumper. Zeba is standing next to her in a lacy black top, her eyes plastered with more eyeliner than she can get away with at school and she’s even got jet-black lipstick. Then there’s me, in my jeans and V-neck. Instantly I drop Frankie’s arm. I look normal, I think, but how can I look normal when I choose to hang out with these two? I don’t mean to be mean, but Frankie and Zeba are weird! No wonder Karmella wants me to ditch them.

  Ben Sands cannot stop laughing and Gary Cohen is almost choking to death. Rochelle has one eyebrow raised, and Karmella is shaking her head in pity.

  Oh the shame.

  ‘I’m not sure if I want a coffee,’ I whisper.

  ‘I do!’ says Zeba. ‘If today isn’t a hazelnut frappuccino with vanilla syrup kinda day, I don’t know what is.’

  She drags me over to the queue and I order a latte, Frankie orders a berries and cream frappuccino and Zeba her super-complicated concoction.

  The place where we pick up our drinks is dangerously close to Karmella and her group. I wave hello and nod, hoping to leave it at that, but of course Zeba has a different idea.

  ‘Hi, guys,’ she says. ‘I didn’t know you hang out in Starbucks. We’ll have to start coming here more often.’

  Rochelle shrugs. ‘Yeah, it’s OK here.’

  ‘But we’re not so sure about the clientele. Just recently it’s gone way downhill,’ says Karmella, staring at Zeba and Frankie.

  Frankie looks around, searching for the culprit. ‘What? Who?’ she asks, clearly not getting Karmella’s meaning. Her eyes rest on three older girls sitting by the wall. ‘Is it them?’ she asks. ‘Yes, I suppose they do look kind of low rent, as my mother would say. That pink outfit is hideous!’

  Karmella’s scowl becomes deeper. ‘That’s my sister, you cow!’

  At least Frankie has the sense to seem embarrassed. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I suppose that look is sort of in vogue at the moment.’

  ‘Totally!’ I say, backing her up and complimenting Karmella’s sister at the same time. ‘Where did she get that shiny fluorescent jacket?’

  I can see Gary splutter into his c
offee and try to hide it when Karmella says, ‘I’ll ask her if you like.’

  ‘Thanks, Karm!’ I say. ‘That would be great!’

  ‘Come to think of it,’ says Frankie, ‘I think Tracy – the girl who mucks out my horse – has a jacket like that.’

  ‘You have a horse?!’ they all ask at exactly the same time.

  Frankie and her big mouth.

  ‘Yes, Sir Toby Belch.’

  It gets worse.

  ‘Jesus!’ says Gary. ‘Are you royalty or something?’

  Frankie leans forward and whispers, ‘Some say that we descend from an illegitimate child of one of Edward VII’s many flings. But I think that’s just Daddy telling fibs.’

  I mentally slap my own forehead. Does Frankie always have to sound so posh? I never noticed it before, but it’s obvious now.

  Ben looks up at me and I think I might melt in his deep brown eyes. ‘So, what have you been up to?’

  ‘On your way to a fox hunt?’ asks Gary.

  ‘Buying hats for Ascot?’ asks Karmella.

  I try to grin as if I’m taking it well, but it’s painful to be laughed at like this. It brings back memories of St Cecilia’s.

  ‘Ascot isn’t until June,’ says Frankie. ‘We’ll do our hat shopping nearer the time. You don’t want to be out of season and look like a fool!’

  Even Zeba is sniggering a little at this.

  ‘But pony jumpers are always in style,’ says Karmella.

  ‘Indeed!’ Frankie replies.

  I have to rescue Frankie before she embarrasses herself, and me, beyond all return. ‘What are you guys doing?’

  ‘We were playing dares,’ says Karmella. ‘Want to play?’

  I can’t believe this. Despite Frankie’s embarrassing behaviour, Karmella has asked us to hang out with her! Which means I get to spend more time with Ben. I nod, trying to seem less thrilled than I really am.

  ‘Dares! Super!’ says Frankie.

  ‘Who’s first?’ I say.

  ‘The Pony Club werewolf?’ says Karmella.

  ‘Moi? Mademoiselle la Frankieeee?’ says Frankie.

  ‘Yeah,’ says Karmella. ‘Why don’t you go up to my sister over there and ask her where she got her jacket?’