I shook my head. I wasn’t going to tell her, but Hannah’s email had made me think. Maybe I should go for editor, it would be perfect to take my mind off things, plus, as Paul had said, good practice for when I’m older. But I didn’t want to tell Wendy. I didn’t want her thinking I was getting ideas above my station and anyway, I might not even get the job.
Wendy got out her mirror and applied some lipstick from her bag. ‘Great colour, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘Natural with a hint of gloss. Good for us brunettes. Want to try some?’
‘No, ta.’ Us brunettes? What is all this matey, let’s bond over a lipstick act, I wondered. What does she want?
‘Er, TJ . . .’
‘Yeah . . .’
‘You know that exercise we had to do for maths . . .?’
Ah. So that was it. I felt my face drop. I couldn’t help it. For a split second I thought someone was being friendly because they might have cared about me. Obviously not.
‘Well I meant to . . .’ Wendy continued.
‘You want to copy my homework?’ I interrupted.
‘Oh, TJ, could I? You’d be doing me the most enormous favour and you know what Mr Potts can be like if anyone hasn’t done it . . .’
‘Actually, maths isn’t my best subject . . .’
Wendy stiffened. ‘It comes so easily to you but if you’re going to be precious . . .’
‘I’m not. Here take it,’ I said and got my book out of my bag. I couldn’t be bothered arguing. Maths didn’t come easily. I had to really work at it and the last bit of homework had taken hours after lunch yesterday and I still wasn’t sure I’d got it right. But I wanted friends not enemies and Wendy could be really nasty when she wanted to be.
Just at that moment I caught Izzie Foster watching me from the bench to my right. She raised her eyebrows and half-smiled at me.
‘Thanks. You’re a doll, TJ,’ said Wendy, grabbing my maths book out of my hand. Off she went, leaving me sitting on my own again.
Izzie was still staring. She was sitting with her mates Lucy and Nesta and, like most of the other groups of girls dotted around the playground, they looked like they were having a good time, just relaxing in the sun. Nesta was at one end of the bench rubbing lotion on to her legs and Lucy was at the other with her skirt hoiked high and her legs stretched out to get the sun. Izzie said something to them and they both looked over, then Izzie got up and came to join me.
‘Hey, TJ. I was just thinking. You heard from Hannah?’
‘Wendy’s already borrowed my homework,’ I said.
‘What homework?’ asked Izzie, looking puzzled. ‘I saw you sitting on your own and suddenly remembered that Hannah’d gone. I wondered how you were doing?’
So people had noticed me sitting on my own. Well, I didn’t need anyone’s pity.
‘I’m fine,’ I said, getting up and putting my half-eaten sandwich in the litter bin. ‘Got to go.’
I was going to go and sit and read in a cubicle in the loo for the rest of the lunch break. That way no one would see me on my own and feel sorry for me.
‘So, to sum up,’ said Sam Denham from the stage later that day, ‘you’ve got five main rules and if you stick to them, you won’t go wrong.’
I turned the page of my book to write more notes.
‘Rule one,’ he said. ‘Your job is to stop people just flicking through the magazine. You have to draw them in to actually read what’s on the page. You do this by having hooks on the page. These are pictures, titles, words under the picture that give an idea what the feature is about, a quote and the picture captions. Now, if people scan your page, they can quickly access what it’s about. So, the title and the captions should be . . . what?’
He looked around as a few hands went up in the hall, including Nesta Williams’ who was sitting next to me. Sam pointed at her to answer.
‘Interesting,’ she said and gave him a flirty smile.
‘Right,’ said Sam, flashing a big smile back at her and keeping his eyes on her for a few moments. ‘Interesting. Or funny. These hooks are as important, if not more so, than the copy.’
I was scribbling furiously to get it all down when I noticed Nesta hadn’t written a thing. ‘Do you need paper?’ I whispered to her, ready to rip out a page for her.
She grinned and shook her head. ‘No, thanks. I’m just here for the view.’
You and half the school, I thought. I don’t think a talk had ever been so well attended, not only by the girls but also by the teachers. But then, most of the teachers are aspiring writers, according to Hannah’s mum. She was a headteacher before she left for South Africa. She told us that half her staff were secretly working on novels and planning to get out of teaching.
‘Rule two,’ Sam continued. ‘Make sure your picture or photograph is appropriate to the copy. You don’t want a big smiley picture of someone next to a tragic piece. Rule three. Use your pictures and captions in a creative way. For instance, you’re doing a sports page and have a feature about tennis coaching. Any ideas?’
Wendy Roberts put up her hand. ‘You could have a photo of some kids playing, with the caption Learn to play tennis.’
Sam nodded. ‘You could. It’s apt but not very inspiring. Any other ideas?’
I had one, but I didn’t want to look a prat in front of everyone. Wendy was blushing like mad after Sam had squashed her idea. I went over in my mind what I’d say if I could only pluck up the courage.
Sam pointed at a girl at the back.
It was Izzie Foster. ‘How about a picture of a Pete Sampras in full flight going after a ball, saying something like, “Are you the next Wimbledon Champion?”’
‘Now we’re cooking,’ said Sam. ‘That’s more like it. Only it might be a bit intimidating, as most people know they’ll never be the next Sampras. So, it might put them off going. But, good idea. Any more?’
Me me, I thought, trying to summon up the courage to put my hand up.
‘Come on,’ said Sam, looking round at the rows of silent girls. ‘Part of being a pro is throwing ideas into the pot and not feeling bad when someone knocks them down. It doesn’t matter. We learn as much by our mistakes as our successes, if not more. Come on, who’s going to stick their neck out?’
I could feel myself going red as I put my hand up, but I was bursting to see what he thought of my idea.
‘You,’ said Sam, looking in my direction. ‘Lara Croft on the front row.’
I looked behind me. He couldn’t mean me, could he? Lara Croft? But no one else had their hand up.
He pointed at me again. ‘You. Come on. With the plait?’
Oh, he did mean me! I could feel myself going redder than ever. I took a deep breath. ‘What if you use a picture of, say, last year’s Wimbledon winner,’ I finally managed to get out, ‘on his backside with the ball bouncing past and a caption saying something like, “Even the best need a little extra help?”’
‘Love it,’ beamed Sam. ‘It may not make you want to play tennis, but it will make you stop long enough to read what’s going on.’
‘Well done, Lara,’ whispered Nesta as the red from my face spread to the tips of my ears.
‘Rule four. Never be afraid to try new things. Rule five. In your layout, make sure the reader always knows where to go next. And make sure the information is accessible, especially in a magazine. Know your market. And not too many long paragraphs. Break some of it up. You know, ten tips about this, five ways to do that and so on . . .’
At the end, he took some questions from the floor, but I hardly took in what was going on. I spent the last ten minutes of his talk in a daze at having spoken to him. I was well chuffed that he’d liked my idea. Loved it, in fact. I couldn’t wait to tell Hannah later.
As everyone got up to leave, I noticed Sam making his way over to where I was sitting. I froze to the chair. Ohmigod. He was coming over to speak to me. I could feel myself going red again and breathless as I planned what I’d say. I tried my best to look natural and smile as he
approached, but I had a feeling I looked like a grinning hyena, I was so thrilled.
As he reached the front row, he knelt down next to me and turned his back.
‘So, did you enjoy the talk?’ he asked Nesta.
‘Oh, yes,’ beamed Nesta. ‘Fascinating.’
That wiped the smile off my face. Literally. Fool, I thought, you utter utter fool. He had no intention of coming to talk to you.
I had a quick look round and prayed that no one had witnessed it, but too late, I noticed Lucy Lovering hovering at the side. She’d seen it all. Me perking up with a stupid grin, then Sam turning his back on me to talk to Nesta. God, how humiliating.
I looked away from Lucy and got up to walk out the back door. Sam slipped into my vacant chair as though I’d never been there and continued chatting to Nesta.
‘Hey, TJ,’ called Lucy, as I reached the school gates and turned into the street. ‘Wait up.’
Oh, no. I wanted to get out. Get home and hide. What did she want? I pretended I hadn’t heard and carried on walking.
‘TJ,’ said Lucy, catching up.
‘Yeah?’
‘That was a great answer you gave in there.’
‘Thanks,’ I muttered and carried on walking. It didn’t feel so great any more. ‘Bye, Lucy.’
‘What bus you getting?’ she persisted.
‘102.’
‘Me too. We can go together.’
‘Aren’t you going to wait for Nesta and Izzie?’
‘Nah. Izzie’s gone off to band practice. And Nesta. Well . . .’
‘Probably hoping she’ll get a ride from Sam Denham,’ I said bitterly. I couldn’t help it. I felt miffed. Nesta wasn’t even interested in writing or going for editor and yet she was the one Sam had picked out for special attention afterwards.
‘A ride from Sam?’ Lucy giggled. ‘That I’d like to see. He came on a bike.’
‘Really? I thought he’d come in a flash car or something.’
‘I know,’ said Lucy. ‘But it is a flash bike. I saw him arrive on it in a helmet and clips and everything.’ Then she added, ‘People aren’t always how you think they are.’
I felt awkward then and a bit rotten about what I’d thought about Nesta. She can’t help being a man magnet.
We stood in silence for a few minutes, then Lucy turned to me. ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying, but . . . back there, I saw . . . you know . . .’
I shrugged and tried to pretend I didn’t care. ‘Well, Nesta is gorgeous. She has everything any boy could ever want.’
‘What? A hairy chest and big muscles?’ asked Lucy.
I burst out laughing. ‘I thought he was coming to talk to me. Or both of us at least.’
‘I know,’ said Lucy gently. ‘I saw.’
‘I felt a right idiot. Like I was invisible or something.’
‘I’ve been there, believe me. I used to feel like that a lot when Nesta first arrived,’ said Lucy. ‘I mean, I know she’s my mate, but she is stunning, so people always look at her before anyone else. And she’s funny, so people like her. It’s easy to feel left out sometimes. I thought she was going to steal Izzie from me when she first began to hang out with us. I thought she didn’t want to be my friend, only Izzie’s. It was like I wasn’t even there. So, yeah, I know all about feeling invisible.’
‘What did you do?’
‘Oh, took a very grown-up approach. Sulked. Acted like a baby. Felt very sorry for myself. Hated Nesta. Then I got to know her. And discovered that she’s really nice. In fact, she had been feeling the same way. She thought I hated her and didn’t want to be her friend.’
Just at that moment, Sam Denham cycled past on his bike and jolted as he went over a bump in the road.
‘If you think about it,’ said Lucy with a wicked grin, ‘men really ought to ride side-saddle.’
I burst out laughing as I watched Sam wobble down the road and disappear round a corner.
‘And he did call you Lara Croft,’ said Lucy.
‘Yeah, he did, didn’t he?’ I said. I’d forgotten that. ‘I thought he meant someone else at first. I guess it’s because of my plait.’
‘Maybe. But you do have a look of her. So, yeah,’ teased Lucy. ‘TJ Watts – invisible? Hardly. Only mistaken for the most sexy woman in cyberspace.’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Don’t mess with me . . .’
I liked Lucy. She was a laugh, like Hannah. She had a way of turning things round and making it all seem OK.
Somehow it didn’t seem to matter any more that Sam Denham had snubbed me. He probably didn’t even realise he’d done it.
The rest of the journey home flew by as Lucy and I chatted away. As I let myself into the house later, I realised it was the first time in weeks that I’d actually felt happy.
Things were looking up.
email: Outbox (1)
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: 11 June
Subject: Wham Bam thanku Sam
Hi H
Excellent talk by Sam Denham. He fancied Nesta, he made a beeline straight for her after the talk.
I am definitely going to go for editor. Hurrah. And thx for the advice.
Got bus home with Lucy Lovering. She’s g real laugh and easy to talk to. She has invited me to her house after school on Friday. Brill. Can’t wait.
Scott came over to borrow my Buffy DVD. He wants to show it to Jessica. He sends his love. He seems to have forgotten he said he’d give me back the money I lent him. I know I should say something, but I can’t face it . . .
Got piles of hwk so better go.
Miss you loads
Spik soon
Love
TJ
email: Inbox (1)
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: 11 June
Subject: School
TJ
Help. Am mis. Don’t like it here. I WANNA come HOME. And now you’re going to be best friends with Lucy Lovering and you’ll forget me. Started school today. Lots of geeky boys in our class. They have their own language over here. And accent. Like if someone’s invited somewhere they say, ‘Like, yah, rock up when you like man.’ Or ‘I rocked up to Jine ee’s (Janie’s) about farve (five)’. And they say ‘och shame’ a lot. And a girlfriend is called a ‘cherry’. It’s going to take me ages to learn it all.
Gudnight ma cherry
Spik spox spoooon
Your v sad friend Hannah. Och shame Hannah.
Mark next door has some book titles for you. As he is a boy, they are all rude or stupid.
Rusty Bedsprings by I P Nightly
Chicken Dishes by Nora Drumstick
And The Revelations of St John by Armageddin Outtahere
Chapter 5
‘Make yourself at home,’ said Lucy, flinging her bag down and opening the fridge.
I pulled a chair out at one end of the pine dining table that took up half the kitchen. Before I could sit, I was accosted by a golden Labrador who appeared from under the table. He put his paws up on my chest and began to lick my face with great enthusiasm.
‘Down, Jerry,’ said Lucy as another dog appeared next to him and joined in the ‘let’s wash the guest’s face’ game.
‘How many are there?’ I asked, wiping my face with my sleeve.
‘Two,’ said Lucy, opening the French doors. ‘Ben! Jerry!’ she called as she ran out into the garden. The dogs jumped down and ran after her, tails wagging. Once they were out, Lucy stepped back inside and shut the door. The two dogs looked in through the glass with bemused faces as if to say, ‘That was a really mean trick’.
‘I didn’t mind them,’ I said. ‘I like dogs.’
‘So do I. They’re my best friends as much as Iz and Nesta, but they can be a bit much sometimes,’ said Lucy, then added with a grin. ‘And so can the dogs.’
She held up two cartons of juice. ‘Cranberry or apple?’
; ‘Cranberry, please,’ I said, settling into my chair. I liked Lucy’s house immediately. It looked like the kind of place you could relax in. ‘Lived in’ as my mum would say. Every surface was covered with books, papers and magazines, the walls were plastered with paintings and drawings and there was a lovely old dresser against one wall with colourful bits of mismatched crockery.
‘Hi,’ I said to the boy who was sitting at the other end of the table and reading the latest John Irving novel.
‘Uh,’ he said. Or, at least, that’s what it sounded like.
‘Steve, this is TJ. TJ, this is my charmer of a brother.’
Steve barely looked up. He only grimaced at what his sister had said.
‘Oh, hi TJ,’ said Lucy. ‘I’m Steve. So pleased to meet you. I would look at you, but then you are my younger sister’s friend so why bother? You’re too young for me and probably stupid. Nothing you have to say will be of the slightest interest to me. I am your superior in every respect and everything I say, no think, will be over your head.’
Steve’s mouth twitched. He almost laughed.
‘Good book that,’ I said, pointing at what he was reading. ‘I’ve read all of his but I liked The World According To Garp best.’
Then he did look at me. A strange look as though he was considering something unsavoury that a cat might have brought in. I met his gaze and tried to look friendly.
‘New, are you?’ he asked.
‘Ohmigod, it speaks,’ said Lucy, putting a glass of juice beside me. ‘Sorry about the juice. It’s organic, but it tastes OK when you get used to it. My parents are both health freaks so . . .’
‘We have to go out of the house to keep our toxin levels up,’ said Steve.
‘In answer to your question, no, I’m not new,’ I said. ‘New here, I guess. But I’ve been in the same class as Lucy since we began secondary.’
‘TJ’s a brainbox like you,’ said Lucy. ‘She’s going to go for editor of our school newsletter.’
‘Really,’ said Steve, looking totally unimpressed.
A brainbox? Was that really how people saw me? How boring.
Mates, Dates and Sleepover Secrets Page 3