by Candy Harper
‘You could have asked him to come and watch this.’
Then we cracked up because we couldn’t really see why anyone would want to watch it. I thought about Finn. He probably would have said yes if I’d asked him to come, but somehow Finn doesn’t seem to fit in with this little group. I struggled a bit on New Year’s Eve to bring him into our conversations.
‘How are you getting on with Elliot?’ I whispered.
Ang jabbed me in the ribs, but Elliot was too engrossed in a disruption in the space-time continuum to notice that we were talking about him.
‘Really well,’ Ang said in a voice so low that I practically had to lip-read. ‘Earlier, he asked me what my favourite noble gas is.’
‘Wow,’ I said, unsure what the correct response to this kind of announcement was.
Ang and Elliot’s romance is not a conventional one.
We went back to watching the terrible film. Most of the special effects seemed to have been done with toy spaceships on strings.
When a robot on wheels with bits of egg carton for eyes rolled on, I started to laugh.
‘Watch it, Faith!’ Westy said. ‘No sniggering. This is a chilling vision of the future.’
‘What, where the robots take over the earth and steal our egg boxes?’
Then there was a space battle with a lot of shooting. Lily and Westy were beside themselves with excitement. Elliot and Ang had disappeared into the kitchen and Megs looked like she was in danger of disappearing into Cameron’s mouth. I found myself looking at Ethan. Who happened to be looking at me.
I had decided to let his comments about Finn go. After all, it must be hard for other boys being compared to someone as gorgeous as Finn. So, in a spirit of kindness, I was going to say something hilarious about how the fashion on other planets always seems to be stuck in the seventies, but I didn’t. I just stared. And he stared back. Along with his lush lashes he’s got very sultry eyes. I didn’t know if we were having a staring competition or if it was more . . . you know.
Elliot came back into the room and said, ‘Ew, gross!’
I looked away quickly, but fortunately Elliot wasn’t talking about Ethan and me staring at each other; he was pointing at the alien that had just exploded on-screen, leaving blue slime all over the spaceship.
LATER
But I probably shouldn’t be having lingering stares with boys who aren’t my nearly-boyfriend, should I?
MONDAY 9TH JANUARY
Last term, my evil head of year, Miss Ramsbottom, said that Megs and I were too badly behaved to be in a class together and moved me to a different tutor group. I spent the whole of last term being super good. Well, parts of last term anyway. And it was the parts where Miss Ramsbottom was watching me so that’s what counts, isn’t it? And she said she’d think about moving me back, but we’ve been at school for three days now and no one has said anything about me returning to Mrs Hatfield’s tutor group to be with Megs again.
I was thinking about speaking to Miss Ramsbottom about it, but then Lily got out her lunch. It was a Christmas selection box. I felt that, as a friend, I ought to stick around and eat her Freddo for her while she concentrated on more caramelly options. But I will definitely be having words with Ramsbottom tomorrow.
TUESDAY 10TH JANUARY
Adults are so uptight. If Angharad doesn’t mind me dangling her over the banisters, I don’t see why anyone else should care. Unfortunately, Mr Hampton, our Science teacher, can only cope with people who are the right way up and walking in straight lines, so he tapped me on the shoulder (which isn’t really a wise thing to do to someone who’s concentrating on not dropping their tiny friend on her head) and told me to go and see Miss Ramsbottom. Pigging hell, why are teachers always sending you to see other teachers? Or making you stand somewhere or telling you to think about something. It’s like they imagine you haven’t got any plans of your own for the day.
I said, ‘It’s a nice idea, Mr Hampton, but actually I’ve got some important birthday business to conduct in Maths next lesson, so I don’t think I’ll be able to make it.’
Mr Hampton said, ‘Never mind then – you mustn’t upset your schedule.’
Or at least that is what he would have said if he lived in Sane World, but because he is a teacher from the planet Fun-Spoil he just ranted away. I didn’t catch all of it, but it was along the lines of, ‘Irresponsible . . . idiotic . . . most disrespectful young lady I’ve ever met.’
You know, the usual.
I shuffled off to see Miss R. As soon as I walked in the door, she screwed up her nose as if my behaviour smells like Bovril.
‘Faith,’ she snarled. ‘I intended to speak to you.’
They say that attack is the best form of defence so I said, ‘Well, I’ve been wanting to talk to you. Why haven’t I been moved back to Mrs Hatfield’s tutor group? I recall a definite promise from you last year, and I’ve been extremely good, and I’m sure you’re aware that I am at a very vulnerable age when it comes to friends – this could be detrimental to my self-esteem.’
Unlike my dad, Ramsbottom isn’t easily confused by a stream of fast talking. She just held up a hand and waited for me to stop.
‘We’ll discuss your tutor group in a moment. I think there’s the more pressing matter of your treatment of other students.’
What the actual monkey was she talking about? ‘But other students love me!’ I said.
‘No one loves being placed in danger.’
‘I don’t follow.’
She scowled. ‘We discussed your disregard for safety last term.’
‘I’m afraid I’m still not with you, Miss Ramsbottom. Perhaps you could act it out, like in a game of charades?’
‘Faith! I don’t think you should make light of attempting to throw another girl down the stairs!’
Oh please. It’s a wonder Miss Ramsbottom manages day-to-day life. She gets the wrong end of the stick so badly that she doesn’t even know what is stick and what’s not. It seems like a miracle to me that she’s never been arrested for falsely accusing someone of murder.
I said, ‘Is this about Angharad? I was just steadying her while she leant over the banisters to take in the stimulating sight of three hundred girls hurrying to their education.’
‘Mr Hampton said that you were about to toss her down the stairs.’
Which is funny because you wouldn’t expect a man who wears as much corduroy as Mr Hampton to over exaggerate like that. I didn’t mention this because Miss Ramsbottom gets very twitchy when I make remarks about other teachers. I just said, ‘She liked it.’
‘That seems highly unlikely.’
‘You’ve got to take into account Angharad’s extreme titchiness. She just wanted to see what it was like to look down from a great height.’
‘Whether the girl in question gave her consent or not, I would have thought that you could have recognised what an inappropriate, not to mention dangerous, action it was.’
I bowed my head because I find these little chats move along quicker if I pretend to be sorry.
‘What if you had dropped her?’
We had, of course, taken the precaution of tying the belt from Megs’s coat round Ang and to the stair rail. Does she think I’m an idiot? But, along with the head bowing, total silence helps Miss R get it out of her system much faster, so I kept my lips pressed together.
‘She could have been seriously injured. I expect more sense from a Year Ten.’
Does that mean that she wouldn’t mind if Year Sevens started flinging people down the stairs?
‘You’ll be in Year Ten detention next week. I’ll speak to the other young lady in question. What’s her name?’
See? She doesn’t listen to a word I say. I was tempted to claim it was Icky Blundell, but using her name didn’t work out too well for me last term, so I said, ‘Angharad Jones.’
Eventually, she seemed to run out of lecture power and was about to dismiss me, but I said, ‘What about me moving back to Mrs Hatfield’
s tutor group? Remember you promised last term?’
She flared her nostrils at me. ‘I remember no such thing. You were moved to a different tutor group because you seemed unable to concentrate when you were in a class with Megan.’
‘It’s true that Megs can be very distracting, but last term—’
‘I said that we would review the situation. I have reviewed it. Despite the slight improvement in your conduct, I think that today’s incident demonstrates admirably why you won’t be moving back to Mrs Hatfield’s form this term.’
I may have puffed out my breath in a quiet, non-aggressive sort of way.
‘There’s no need for that sort of thing. Faith, this is about your choices. You’re old enough to know what the right thing to do is.’
Honestly, it’s a wonder that she doesn’t bore herself to death sometimes. It’s probably the reason she’s so pale.
In the end she let me go and I arrived late to Maths. Maths (and English and Science) are taught in sets and Megs and I are both clever, so actually I still sit next to her for these lessons. I’m not sure that Miss Ramsbottom has realised. It would be quite funny to point this out to her, but Mum taught me not to wind up people who are stupider than me, so I haven’t bothered.
Mrs Baxter was already doing one of her long rambly explanations. I sat down and Megs whispered, ‘What happened?’
‘Detention.’
She shook her head.
‘And Ramsbum says I can’t come back to Mrs Mad-as-a-Hatfield’s tutor group.’
‘No way!’
I nodded sadly.
Mrs B interrupted to tell us to do exercise nine.
‘I can’t believe it!’ Megs whispered.
‘It’s extremely tragic. I hardly get a minute with you these days.’ I flicked open the textbook and said, ‘Now let’s spend the next hour talking about my birthday plans.’
WEDNESDAY 11TH JANUARY
I’m depressed about Ramsbottom going back on her word and not letting me return to my original tutor group with Megs. When I got to registration this morning, I said, ‘Have you heard the news, Mrs Webber? I’m stuck with you lot.’
Mrs Webber didn’t even stop marking books. She just smiled and said, ‘Well, with a positive attitude like that, I’m sure that we’ll all get along swimmingly.’
I sighed. ‘Have some sympathy, Mrs W. You know what it’s like when you dangle a tiny girl over the banisters and some old vampire in heels gets all uptight about it and won’t let you hang out with your best mate.’
Mrs W gave me a long look. Eventually, she said, ‘Let’s just say I appreciate your disappointment.’
LATER
Because my mum is always asking me to share my news with her, I thought I’d tell her about my birthday plans. In fact, I gave her a folder containing a guest list, venue suggestions and a first draft of the menu.
She folded her arms and said, ‘We can’t afford to hire anywhere for your birthday, Faith.’
I’m used to this kind of negativity every time I try to follow my dreams, so I said, ‘I suppose we could have it here. We’ll just have to take out most of the furniture to fit everybody in.’
‘No. We’re not having it here either. Not after last year.’
‘When are you going to stop going on about that? We fixed the ceiling, Neesha’s hair grew back and Sam didn’t need therapy after all, did he?’
We both turned to look at Sam who was adding more blood to his painting of an explosion in a pet shop.
‘At least not for that anyway.’
Mum sighed. ‘The point is I don’t think we can trust you to have another party for quite some time.’
‘What about a really small one? Just fifty or sixty of my closest friends?’
‘No.’
‘What if I’m really good between now and my birthday?’
‘I’m not going to give in on this one, Faith. You’re not having a birthday party.’
I drooped.
‘I tell you what, if you are angelic between now and the summer holidays, maybe you’ll be allowed a small gathering. That means good reports from school and keeping your room tidy.’
So no party for me.
I wonder how many people I could fit in the shed.
THURSDAY 12TH JANUARY
Finn has finally got in touch. I was all happy when his name came up on my phone because I assumed he wanted to meet up, but no; instead, he sent me a picture of a monkey. No message. Just a monkey in a baseball cap.
I’ve checked all my magazines and none of them have any suggestions as to what this means. I was expecting another date. I got a monkey.
It’s nice that he’s keeping in touch, but seriously. A monkey.
LATER
A pigging monkey.
LATER STILL
I hate monkeys.
FRIDAY 13TH JANUARY
On the way to school I asked Megs if Cameron ever sends her random pictures of animals wearing hats.
She shook her head. ‘No, but he does keep me up to date on any important football player transfers.’
‘And you like that?’
‘Well, I’m glad that he’s sharing his big news with me.’
‘I’m really not sure that I can muster enthusiasm for anyone’s monkey news.’
‘It’s just a friendly text. Think of it as like a smiley face.’
‘I suppose the monkey was grinning in a toothy, creepy, I’m-going-to-eat-your-face sort of way.’
Megs shook her head at me. ‘You’re the only person I know that doesn’t like cute pictures of animals.’
‘There you go, Megs, you’ve finally proved my theory that I am the sole sane voice in your nutty existence.’
Anyway, I can deal with a few chimps if another date is on its way.
When I got to registration, the first thing Lily said was, ‘It’s Friday the thirteenth.’
Mrs Webber said, ‘That’s superstitious nonsense.’
‘A lot of bad things have happened on Friday the thirteenth,’ Lily said and she glanced up at the ceiling as if she was expecting lightning to strike. ‘It’s a day when evil forces abound and there’s wickedness in the air.’
Mrs Webber looked at Lily. ‘Just another day at Westfield High then.’
At lunchtime Icky came up to me in the canteen. ‘I had a really good chat with Finn last night. He’s so friendly, isn’t he? He couldn’t stop hugging me.’
Obviously, I was wondering what on earth Finn was doing in the same place as Icky, but I was determined not to get upset. Icky thinks that if a boy sneezes in her direction it’s a declaration of love. So I just said, ‘It’s nice he took pity on you. When we were on one of our dates, he did say he was thinking about doing some charity work.’
‘Yeah, right, like you two went on a date!’
‘They did,’ Megs said. ‘They’ve been on loads.’
‘Next time he’s cuddling up to me, I’ll ask him about that.’
And she smarmed off.
My mum always says that you should just let nasty people get it out of their system and not get into a slanging match.
Where’s the fun in that?
So I shouted after her, ‘Vicky! Today is Friday the thirteenth!’
She turned back to give me a withering look. ‘I know what the date is.’
‘Really? I just assumed that you’d got it confused with Halloween since you’re wearing that terrifying mask.’
I had the double satisfaction of Icky going purple and most of the canteen falling about laughing.
The rest of the day was filled with that annoying education stuff. I forget what they were cramming our heads with today.
Just before the bell went for home time, I said to Lily, ‘Nothing Friday the thirteenthish happened in the end, did it?’
Lily pulled her spooky face and, just at that moment, Angharad flung herself off the desk behind Lily and jumped on her back.
Lily went, ‘Ah! Ah! Ahhhhh! What the hell, Angharad? I though
t you were an evil spirit!’
And I nearly died laughing.
Angharad was snorting so hard that she couldn’t climb down from leggy Lily’s back properly. She just slid down her into a puddle on the floor and Lily jabbed her in the stomach with her boot. It was comedy at its finest.
SATURDAY 14TH JANUARY
This morning I texted Granny and asked her if she thought that girls should ask boys out. She replied, Modern, intelligent ones that know what they want should.
Obviously, any idiot knows that I’m modern and intelligent and I definitely know what I want. In fact, usually, I’m really quite good at expressing my wants and needs (for instance, just now I poked my head out from under the duvet and yelled, ‘Can we have pizza for lunch?’ down the stairs). So I should take Granny’s advice and ask Finn on a date. I suppose that I’ve been holding back because I sort of want to know that he wants to before I ask.
But you can’t always know what other people want. For example, who could have known that Miss Ramsbottom would object to that sing-song I started in the corridor outside her office yesterday?
I’ll just have to go for it. I’m definitely going to text him.
Might just spend a few minutes thinking about what to say.
LATER
I’ve almost finished composing my text. Just need to ring a few people to see what they think.
LATER AGAIN
Got distracted on the phone to Megs and started talking about Icky. Megs said it was true that she did talk to Finn in McDonald’s the other night, but no one saw any actual hugging. Anyway, Icky is now dating someone called Kieran who is apparently her third boyfriend this year. I bet she doesn’t faff about when it comes to texting boys. I’m sending a text asking Finn to the park tomorrow, right now.
THIRTY SECONDS LATER