Strictly Friends?

by Jo Cotterill

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1: New Home!

  Chapter 2: It’s About Attitude

  Chapter 3: Have You Got a Boyfriend Yet?

  Chapter 4: Nurse Megan

  Chapter 5: Want to See My Scars?

  Chapter 6: You’re Going Out With Him?

  Chapter 7: Let’s Do it Again!

  Chapter 8: We’re Desperate for Gossip!

  Chapter 9: I Think You’re Really Cool

  Chapter 10: How Do You Know You Fancy Him?

  Chapter 11: You Look Cute When You Laugh

  Chapter 12: Why Can’t You Just Stop Interfering?

  Chapter 13: You Don’t Care About Me

  Chapter 14: You Can’t Let Him do This to You!

  Chapter 15: We’re Strictly Friends

  Chapter 16: Do You Fancy Me?

  Chapter 17: I Think I Made a Bit of a Mistake

  Chapter 18: Surprise!

  About the Author

  Also by Jo Cotterill

  Copyright

  About the Book

  The boy stared at her . . . Megan gulped. He was quite possibly the most good-looking boy she had ever seen.

  Megan has had to move two hundred miles away from her home, her dancing and her best friend and ballroom partner, Jake. She’s fed up with having to fit in with what everyone else wants.

  Then she meets Danny. He’s exciting and rebellious and he likes her too.

  But could there be more to Danny than meets the eye?

  For Ruth Knowles, 100% sweetheart

  Chapter 1

  new home!

  from: jakewaltzman@yahoo.com

  to: meggyhirstywirsty@gmail.com

  sent: 7 September

  subject: new home!

  Welcome to your new house! Is this the first email you’ve got since you arrived? How long has it taken you to get connected? Has Owen eaten the wiring?

  Has everything arrived in one piece?

  Can you tell how bored I am??

  Missing you already!

  from: Megan

  to: Jake

  sent: 8 September

  subject: re: new home!

  Helloooo! You are so hilarious, how can you be missing me already? We only said goodbye two days ago! (Actually, I am kind of missing you a bit. All right, a lot. But shhhh. I’m supposed to be all happy happy happy in our lovely new house.)

  Sorry I couldn’t reply before, I had to go to SCHOOL today, can you believe it? The day after we move in and I have to start at a new school! How unfair! But Mum said it’s better to start properly on the first day of term. Huh. She wasn’t the one who had to walk into a class where EVERYONE else knew each other, wearing a shiny new uniform that just screams NEWBIE. Actually, I wasn’t the only new person. There’s another girl called Suki who’s just moved here too. She and I sort of clung to each other during the day. Neither of us understood a word anyone said and we got lost twice – once on the way to art and once trying to find the canteen. By the time we got there, they’d run out of chips! Unbelievable. How can a school with a thousand pupils run out of chips?!

  Anyway, I suppose it was OK for a first day. Everyone was very nice, and Suki does ballet so we had something to talk about. She told me about pointe shoes and I told her about fleckles and other ballroom steps. Lucky that the other new girl also likes dancing! She’s going to this posh ballet school at the weekends. I haven’t got a clue where I’m going to go for ballroom lessons, but hopefully there’ll be something nearby. Moving seems to have happened so quickly I haven’t got my head around it yet – it’s almost like I thought it wouldn’t really happen. And now we’re here!

  Anyway. So school was OK but (and don’t tell ANYONE I told you this) I kept thinking about Milton Park and everyone there – especially you of course – and although I tried to look really confident, I was shaking inside. I really miss my old school. (I never thought I’d say that about Milton Park, LOL!)

  How did your first day back go? Have they re-painted the first-floor classrooms like they said? What are the new people in my old house like? Actually, don’t tell me. I’m not sure I can bear it.

  I miss you so much! And Milton, and my old house, and the scary snicket where we once met that huge dog, and the post office, and Mrs Connelly at the Spar.

  Ahem. The new house is really nice. My bedroom is about twice as big as my old one, and we have a living room AND a dining room!! Mum is already talking about having dinner parties, I can’t think why. It’s not like we know anyone here yet!

  Gotta go, got a gazillion things to unpack. No idea if everything has made it here in one piece. Dad says there are six boxes missing but I don’t know how he knows that.

  Will write more soon, promise.

  Megan xxx

  from: Jake

  to: Megan

  sent: 8 September

  subject: re: new home!

  I rang you but it went to voicemail. Have you got your phone switched off? Or were you talking to (gulp) someone else? How dare you be talking to someone else when I’m trying to ring!

  You’ll have to tell me more than that. New school, new house, yawn, yawn. Suki does ballet? That’s kind of cool. But come on, I want more details! Was Owen sick on the 200-mile journey from Yorkshire to your soft southern county? How many times did your dad swear at other drivers? Is the new garden as big as it looked in the photos?

  Come on, come on! Anyone would think you’d got a lot to do or something!

  from: Megan

  to: Jake

  sent: 10 September

  subject: answers at last

  What are you like! LOL. I really am sorry, there’s just been no time to do anything. Mum and Dad keep sending me from one corner of the house to the other with boxes or random ‘stuff’. But they’ve crashed out in front of the telly now, and Owen is in bed (finally – he’s not liking this whole new house thing AT ALL) so I should be able to write a bit more. I rang you back, by the way, but this time YOUR phone went to voicemail. Did you get my message?

  So, to answer your questions:

  1. No, yours wasn’t the first email I received. I got one from DanceWear International, offering me 10% off Capezio shoes. Hah.

  2. It took us nearly 24 hours to get connected, but that was only because Mum had put the modem in her bedside drawer, thinking it was something to do with her hair straighteners.

  3. I still don’t know if everything has arrived in one piece. There are twenty-nine boxes left to unpack. I counted them this evening.

  4. Yes, Owen was sick on the journey – twice! How did you guess? It was totally disgusting.

  5. Dad swore at the other drivers forty-one times. (I made that up. I didn’t really count. And some of the time I was asleep.)

  6. Yes, the new garden is easily as big as it looked in the photos – in fact, there’s a bit that goes round the side of the house too and you can play tennis against the garage wall. Not that I have any idea where my tennis racquet is (is that the right spelling? It looks weird).

  The house is lovely, and as I said before, my room is really big. Mum says I can decorate it how I like. I know what you’re thinking – multicoloured walls like the last room! But no, I think I might go for turquoise. Or lilac. I haven’t decided yet. Owen wants a huge jungle over his walls, but I think he’d change his mind if he really had one. He’s scared of The Lion King, remember! He threw this massive tantrum when we arrived – it seems Teddy got lost on the way somehow. We looked everywhere, but he’s completely gone. Owen went ballistic. It took Mum two hours to get him to sleep that first night – you know he’s never gone to sleep without Teddy before. And in a new ho
use too! Poor Owen, he was really upset. But Mum took him into town the next morning and let him choose something, so he cheered up. He’s got this huge snow leopard thing, it’s practically bigger than he is! He’s called it Snowy. How original – not!

  Dad is loving his new job at the architecture firm. Mum says it was worth moving all this way to see the smile on his face. Well, it might be for him, but it wasn’t for me. There is nothing to DO here. I don’t know anyone and I hate not knowing where anything is either – like the nearest supermarket or cinema or – well, anything. Every time I step outside the door, Mum is paranoid I’m going to be kidnapped or something. She keeps going on about Parchester being such a big town and how I mustn’t go anywhere on my own. It’s like I’m suddenly six again! And she’s constantly on at me about taking my mobile everywhere ‘just in case’. Just in case of WHAT? Nothing can possibly happen to me while she’s superglued to my side!!

  I have been dropping subtle hints though about how I need a new mobile phone. She hasn’t noticed yet.

  School is still OK, I guess, but I can’t get used to the number of people around. I always thought Milton Park was a big school, but this one feels like a whole village on its own. I asked this girl in my class called Kate if there were other people who did ballroom dancing in our year. She said she had no idea, she didn’t even know most of them! Can you imagine not knowing everyone in your year?! But there are six forms in one year – six! While Milton Park only has three . . . must stop thinking about it though or I’ll get upset.

  Speaking of which! Dancing!! I have been asking around, but it’s like no one’s ever heard of ballroom dancing. Or if they have, they just think of Strictly Come Dancing. Someone said to me, ‘Oh, I didn’t realize you could actually learn it.’ Well, duh! So I don’t know if there’ll be anything nearby I can go to. School doesn’t have ANY dance classes, but they’re obsessed with sport. Hockey, tennis, football . . . but no dancing! I SO miss it! How can I get by without the rumba, the samba, the foxtrot . . . and the waltz, of course;-) Our best dance!

  Oh no, now I’m feeling homesick. Classes with Laney start again next week, don’t they? Tell her hi from me. And don’t you dare find a better partner than ME! I can’t believe you’re going to go back to classes and I won’t be there. How long have we been dancing together? Is it eight years? Do you remember how we used to climb over the fence between our gardens so we could practise when the sun was out? And how our mums never knew which house we’d be in?

  I’m going to stop before I blub all over the keyboard and break it.

  Love to everyone, especially your mad mum.

  Megan xxx

  from: Jake

  to: Megan

  sent: 11 September

  subject: hugs

  You sound kind of down. I’m really sorry. I wish there was something I could say. If it’s any help, we all miss you loads here. Amanda was asking after you in class yesterday. And Laney said it wouldn’t be the same without you arguing with her about choreography! Even my mum says she can’t get used to you not being next door and popping round every five minutes.

  And I miss you lots of course. Yeah, eight years – something like that. Wow. Wonder how many hours we’ve spent together? Most of them practising the waltz, I bet! LOL.

  Hang in there. It’ll get better, I’m sure. You just need to find a dance class and then everything will be fine. You know how dancing makes it all better!

  from: Megan

  to: Jake

  sent: 12 September

  subject: re: hugs

  I’ve seen a poster for a new salsa class starting up. It’ll probably be full of beginners, but it’s the only thing I can find. Do you think I should go?

  Megan xxx

  from: Jake

  to: Megan

  sent: 12 September

  subject: salsa

  YES.

  Chapter 2

  it’s about attitude

  ‘SALSA?’ SAID MEGAN’S mum, Nicola, frowning as she stared at the oven. ‘Just salsa, not any other kind of dancing?’ She twiddled one of the dials. ‘I can’t remember how I made this work yesterday.’

  ‘Yes, just salsa,’ said Megan. ‘But I thought maybe the dance teacher would know of other classes nearby.’

  Nicola nodded. ‘Good idea. You should go along. What level are they? The dancers, I mean.’

  ‘I think it’s a beginner’s class.’

  Nicola raised her eyebrows. ‘You don’t want to be doing that, do you? It’ll drive you mad. You haven’t been a beginner since you were six.’ She sighed. ‘Maybe I should just twist all the knobs at once and see what happens.’

  Megan reached over and flicked a switch on the wall. The oven pinged on. ‘You forgot the fuse switch.’

  Nicola gave a short laugh. ‘I am such an idiot. It’s big and red and says “OVEN” on it, how could I miss it?’

  Megan shrugged. ‘Can I have a new pencil case?’

  ‘What’s wrong with the one you have?’

  ‘It’s not big enough. I have to take coloured pencils for maths and they won’t fit in.’

  Her mother frowned. ‘Why would you need coloured pencils for maths?’

  ‘I don’t know, it’s what they told me. Colouring pie charts or something. So can I have one?’

  Nicola glanced at her daughter. Like Megan, she had long auburn hair and green eyes, but there were dark circles under her eyes, and her hair hung limply. She sighed. ‘All right. We’ll go choose one after school, shall we?’ She rubbed her hand over her face. ‘I need an early night.’

  A small ball of energy rushed into the room. ‘Mummy, Mummy, Snowy fell into the fireplace!’ Owen held up his new toy.

  ‘Oh, Owen,’ said Nicola, reaching for the leopard and brushing at its fur, ‘it’s covered in soot. I told you not to play near the fireplace. What happened to the fireguard?’

  ‘It sort of collapsed when Snowy was bouncing on it,’ said Owen. ‘Can you make him white again, Mummy?’

  ‘I don’t know. Probably. But not now, Owen, hey? I’m trying to make dinner.’

  ‘Macaroni cheese, macaroni cheese!’ chanted Owen.

  ‘Yes, hopefully,’ said Nicola. She cast a pleading look at Megan. ‘Assuming I get a minute to make it, that is. Can you amuse Owen for a bit, love?’

  Megan felt annoyed. ‘Can’t he amuse himself?’

  ‘Not without something getting broken,’ said her mother in a sharp tone. ‘Please, Megan. Just for ten minutes or so.’

  ‘Oh, all right.’ Megan glanced at Owen. ‘Come on, tinker.’

  ‘Don’t call me tinker.’ Owen stuck out his bottom lip. ‘I don’t like it.’

  ‘Whatever. Let’s go and play with your toys.’

  ‘They’re all boring.’

  ‘What about your castle?’

  ‘Still in a box.’ Owen looked mutinous. ‘Still got everything in boxes.’

  ‘Well,’ said Megan, ‘let’s unpack one.’

  Nicola pulled a face. ‘We’ve ordered a new carpet for his room, remember. Can’t have too much stuff out.’

  ‘I hate this house!’ Owen announced, and ran out of the room.

  Megan rolled her eyes. ‘He’s such a baby.’

  ‘Megan . . .’

  ‘All right, all right. I’ll go and find him.’ Megan stomped off towards the stairs. Behind her, she heard her mother give a frustrated sigh before tipping the macaroni into a dish.

  Owen was sitting in the middle of his bedroom floor, glaring at his empty bookcase.

  ‘Hey.’ Megan sat down next to him. ‘You OK?’

  ‘Stupid house. Stupid place. I want to go home.’

  ‘This is home now,’ said Megan.

  Owen shook his head. ‘No, it isn’t.’

  Megan bit her lip. ‘No, it isn’t really. I feel the same way. Nothing’s in the right place.’

  ‘And everything smells funny.’

  ‘But we have to get used to it,’ Megan told him. ‘I’m sure
we’ll be very happy here.’

  Owen glanced at her shrewdly. ‘You’re just saying that.’

  ‘No, I’m not,’ Megan lied. There was a bang downstairs. Megan was relieved at the distraction. ‘That’s the front door. Daddy’s home.’

  ‘Hello!’ came a voice from the hallway. ‘Is this the Hirst residence, or have I arrived at a storage facility?’

  ‘Daddy!’ yelled Owen, jumping to his feet and running down the stairs.

  ‘Don’t run!’ came Nicola’s shout.

  Megan stood up slowly. She knew exactly how Owen felt. Everything was wrong here. Back home, she knew where everything was – every squeaky stair, every door that needed a special nudge to close properly, every crack in her bedroom ceiling. Here it was all strange, like they shouldn’t really be here. It was like going to stay in a holiday cottage – only this wasn’t a holiday, it was for the rest of their lives. Well, the foreseeable future anyway.

  From downstairs, Megan could hear the voices of her parents floating up to her, punctuated by Owen’s questions and comments. Owen would have forgotten their old house within a couple of months, she was sure. But she wouldn’t. It wasn’t just the house itself, it was all those memories. She’d grown up in Milton; it was the only place she’d ever lived. She knew who she was in Milton. Megan from Milton did ballroom dance, played tricks on her next-door-best-friend and splashed in the paddling pool with her little brother.

  But here, Megan felt itchy on the inside, like there was something crawling under her skin, making her grumpy and upset.

  She had to start all over again, make new friends, find her place. And she wasn’t even sure she was going to be the same person she had been back home.

  Who was Megan from Parchester?

  Megan felt nervous as she waited outside the Alexander Arts Centre. Her mother had walked her round the corner, but Megan had persuaded her not to hang about. ‘It’ll be starting in a minute,’ she said. ‘You don’t have to wait with me.’

  ‘You’re a big girl now,’ said Nicola with a grin. ‘All right. But I’ll come and meet you at the end, OK? At least . . .’ Her brow creased. ‘Hmm, that could be a bit tricky. It’ll be Owen’s bedtime. And your dad’s working late tonight on some design project.’