— Yes, Miss.
— It’s been like this all term, Ryan.
— Yes, Miss. Sorry, Miss.
Nathan pulled a face from across the room. Ryan scowled back at him.
— Right, well, if you’ve finished watching the girls outside, would you mind coming back and joining us for our last lesson together?
People giggled. Nathan’s smug stepbrother smile widened. Ryan felt his cheeks getting hot.
— Yes, Miss.
Miss Zaidel returned to the front of the class.
— Right, so can anyone else answer my question? How long has John Major been Prime Minister?
Nathan’s hand shot up into the air.
— I can, Miss. Three years, Miss.
Miss Zaidel nodded.
— Thank you, Nathan, and somebody else? Who did he take over from?
Nathan smiled straight at Ryan as the rest of the class stuck up their hands. Ryan ground his teeth as the sky rolled thunder outside and it started to rain.
Ameliah scans the lunchtime selection in front of her. The dinner lady stares at her. Ameliah doesn’t recognise the lady, but she knows that stare. She’s felt it enough times. It’s the stare people give when they know about her parents and feel they should say something, but don’t really have a clue what words to use.
She grabs a ham roll and a carton of juice and moves away before the dinner lady can speak. As she queues up to pay, she thinks about how six months have flown by. She thinks about Dad, how he changed in the months after Mum. How the illness made him shrink.
— Is that everything, sweetheart?
Ameliah snaps out of her daydream. Corine on the cafeteria till smiles her Cheshire cat smile like always. The gap between her top front teeth big enough to fit a five-pence piece.
— No crisps today?
Ameliah smiles back.
— Not today thanks, Corine.
Across the room she spots Heather, sitting with some of the others, flapping her arms like a bird, calling her over. Ameliah sighs.
— Chin up, love.
Corine’s face is round and warm like the grandmas in fairy tales and, as she makes her way through the busy lunch hall towards the table of girls, Ameliah decides that Corine would get on really well with Nan.
In the noisy lunch hall Ryan sat staring into space with a mouthful of ham roll. The seat opposite him was empty. He shook his head as he thought about being embarrassed in class earlier.
Liam sat down like a horse crashing into a fence.
— Summertime!
Ryan jumped.
— Got you! Big L strikes again.
— I told you not to do that!
Liam smiled and dropped his Tupperware lunch box on to the table.
— I know, but it’s too easy, man.
He rubs his shovel hands together.
— Half a day left, Ryan, then six sweet weeks of freedom.
— Sit down, will ya? People are staring.
— What you got?
— I dunno.
— You’re eating it.
— Oh, ham.
— You got crisps?
— Monster Munch.
— What flavour?
— Beef.
— Beef? Forget it. I was gonna swap you, but not for cow.
Liam started to eat, his square face chewing his sandwich like a camel that was in a rush. Ryan smiled. Liam had been his best friend since the infants and he couldn’t think of a single day since they’d known each other that Liam hadn’t made him laugh at least twice.
— I heard you got caught watching the girls do PE.
As Liam spoke, little bits of sandwich flew out of his mouth on to the table.
— I wasn’t watching the girls. Jeez, Liam, can you keep the food in your mouth?
Liam shrugged his thick shoulders.
— That’s not what I heard. Tracey said Miss Zaidel properly got you and you went bright red and everything.
— Yeah, well, Tracey’s full of it.
Liam peeled a banana and took half of it with one bite.
— You should just pick one.
— What?
— Pick one. Any girl – there’s loads of them. Look, there’s some.
Liam stuck out his big arm. Ryan slapped it down.
— What are you doing?
Liam pushed the last bit of banana into his mouth.
— I would just walk up to one of them and lay it down.
— Lay it down? What does that even mean? Just eat your food, man.
— I’m just saying I’d do that.
Ryan took another bite of his roll.
— You don’t get it.
— What don’t I get, Ryan? You choose one and then you lay it down.
— Stop saying that. And you don’t just choose one, do you? It’s not an auction.
Liam looked confused. Ryan finished the last of his roll.
— And you wouldn’t lay it down anyway.
— Yeah I would. I’d lay it down hard.
— Oh really? Big Liam? Mr Smooth, yeah? And what would you say?
— Call me Big L.
— You’re an idiot.
Liam slapped the banana skin on to the table and puffed up his chest.
— I’d walk straight up to her and be like, look, baby, it’s me and you, yeah? You can be the I S P to this Big L. What you sayin’?
Ryan shook his head and smiled. Liam looked offended.
— What? That’s good. Big L. I S P, lips, like kiss.
— That spells lisp, you idiot.
— What?
Ryan watched Liam’s face as his brain worked out the spelling.
— Oh yeah. Yeah, well, you know what I mean.
— Yeah. Big L can’t spell.
Liam smiled.
— Big L can’t spell, but you smell, like beef, you’ve got cow crisps in your teeth.
His big fists started to knock a beat on the lunch table. Ryan smiled and tried to think of a comeback rhyme.
Ameliah watches the girls around the table talking about things everybody expects girls to talk about. Their fast lips motoring through sentences.
Heather gives her a look that says ‘Stop being so quiet’ and Ameliah tries to say with her eyes that she’s only quiet when she’s around people talking about things she doesn’t care about, that she’s not interested in the fact that Simone has taken some of her older sister’s foundation and eyeliner and is going to do makeovers for people after school on the field. Mom always said that foundation was what you build houses on and, if your face needs to be built on, then make-up isn’t really going to make a difference, is it?
But Heather already knows.
Ameliah looks at her. Pretty without trying. The freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks making her seem that little bit more special. Thank God for Heather. The bridge between her and the others. Heather knows how to let Ameliah be in the group without having to do or say too much. She’s always done it, since the infants.
— You OK, Am? Half a day left then freedom.
Heather smiles. Ameliah smiles back. She thinks about the two of them sitting inside Dad’s tent in her room by torchlight, Heather hiding her face in the neck of her jumper as Ameliah tells her Dad’s ghost stories, Heather screaming as she gets to the end and the big shock about the old man with no head.
— You wanna try it?
Heather holds out the little eyeliner pencil and smiles. Ameliah smiles back and Heather lowers her hand.
— I’m coming back to yours after school, right?
— Yeah?
— Yeah. We’re gonna make a start on those boxes.
Ameliah looks around at the other girls, all engrossed in talk of makeovers and brush technique.
— We don’t need to.
Heather reaches out for Ameliah’s hand.
— Yes, we do. New summer chapter, Am. It’s time to make it your room.
Click here to read more.
&nbs
p; About the Author
Steven Camden is one of the UK’s most acclaimed spoken word artists. He writes for stage, radio and screen and teaches storytelling. His creative company Bearheart leads story-based projects across different platforms.
Steven moved to London for a girl, but Birmingham is where he’s from. He also has a thing for polar bears.
Follow Steven on Twitter: @homeofpolar
Keep up to date with all Steven’s news at: /StevenCamdenTheAuthor
Hear from the author himself – Steven Camden’s spoken word poetry can be discovered here: bit.ly/itsaboutlove
Books by Steven Camden
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IT’S ABOUT LOVE
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It's About Love Page 25