Luckily they’re not grudge-holders and we’re all friends again by the end of the lesson. And Shantair has still consented to the use of her hair ribbon in our comic opening ceremony at lunch.
My friends Emily, Megan and Fatimah are more excited. They’re my friends who like messing around and hate working hard. They kept nudging me in DT and giving me “thumbs-up” signs, which I think might have been part of what was annoying Cherry and Shantair.
I don’t sit with Natalie in these lessons because we all got moved around at the start of Year Six and she ended up next to Amelia.
Every now and then in DT, I catch Joshua’s eye across the room and grin. I think we both feel a bit nervous, but pleased.
Joshua is my newest friend. All this year I sat next to him in art but apart from when I brilliantly introduced the Would You Rather? game in one lesson, he didn’t really talk to me that much.
Then, when I fell out with Natalie, I ended up hanging out with my other friends more, and, well – long story short – we discovered we both love cartoons. Starting the comic was his idea.
Finally the bell goes for lunch. My stomach flips over. It’s showtime!
“I now declare the Hellfern Comic open!” booms Tanya Harris, and she cuts Shantair’s ribbon that has been tied round Issue One. Our eight spectators in 6C clap politely. Natalie, Amelia, Shantair, Cherry, Megan, Emily and Fatimah (basically the ACE half of GUF). Also Harriet VanDerk is here, to “check we do it properly”.
“Now!” instructs Tanya, and on cue Lewis and I pull the strings on two party poppers, mainly emptying the contents over Tanya’s and Joshua’s heads. Emily does that whistle with her fingers in her mouth that I can’t do. I manage to resist the urge to shout, “Ta daaaa!”
The comic is beautiful, in my opinion. It’s not very long, just one piece of A4 folded in half. It’s all been printed out on Lewis’s dad’s fancy printer (without him knowing).
The front cover is one of my now-famous sheep cartoons. This time, it’s of our French teacher, Miss Price. In the cartoon a pupil is choking and just manages to squeak, “Call an ambulance!” Miss Price then replies, “Only if you say it in French!”
(Miss Price is very insistent we speak only French in her lessons. She sometimes won’t even let people go to the toilet until they say it in French. This means we sometimes learn more about miming French than speaking French, but I guess mime did originate in France, so it’s still kind of on-topic.)
Page Two, also known as the inside cover, is a quiz that Tanya and I came up with together, called “Which EastEnders Character Are You?” It’s a spoof of one of those box quizzes you get in magazines, where you follow the arrows depending on your answers.
The question boxes in this one say things like, “Have you ever walked into the Old Vic and said ‘Woz goin’ on?’?” If you say “YES,” you follow the arrow to the answer: “You’re that one that shouts all the time,”; if you say “NO,” then you go to “You’re that one that cries all the time.”
Page Three, inside the back cover, is an original comic strip by Joshua and Lewis. It’s called “Roland the Slightly Rubbish Superhero” and I think it’s great. Roland is a bit stronger than a normal man, but not enough to lift a car off a trapped person. And he can hear through walls, but not enough to know what the bad guys are actually saying; he can just make out vague words. As a result, his crime fighting is average.
The fourth and final page, which is also the back cover, is a collection of spoof news and spoof gossip about our school. Things like “Which teacher was spotted going into the staffroom with bogeys hanging from their nose?” We all contributed to this one. It was so much fun coming up with stupid and crazy things the teachers might have been seen doing.
It was also when doing this page that we realised our comic must NEVER be seen by any teachers, EVER. It must be kept hidden from them at all costs. We just don’t think they’d see the funny side, somehow.
“Speech! Speech!” calls out Megan.
“Actually, they don’t normally have speeches at comic book launches,” chips in Harriet VanDerk.
“How can you possibly know that?” I ask her tiredly. But she just smiles smugly instead of answering.
“Whatever,” says Tanya, leaning against our desks in 6C. “Tanya Harris ain’t doing no speeches. This is showbiz, not nerdbiz.”
Harriet wisely doesn’t question this. (I assume more because she’s scared of Tanya Harris than because she’s been blown away by the showbiz nature of us cutting a hair ribbon and letting off two party poppers.)
I thought we might have gone too far with the party poppers actually (especially as we’re trying to keep it secret from teachers) but Tanya really wanted the razzle dazzle. And basically you don’t argue with Tanya Harris. I mean, you can, but if you do, you need to: (a) know where the exits are, and (b) pick your battles wisely.
Tanya can be really naughty. Or at least she used to be. It seems gone are the days when she spat in Mrs Cole’s face (and got suspended for it), or when she keyed Mr Denton’s car (and got suspended for it). And she hasn’t even put chewing gum in anyone’s hair for ages now. (Which will be a huge relief to Amelia because she was the main victim of that. Tanya thought Amelia was too snooty, which she was, but still.)
Some people might think Tanya sounds like an unusual choice of person to go into business with. But I say this to those people: “You are right, actually.” And in fact Lewis did make that very point at our first official comic meeting.
What happened was this. It was the end of last term, nearly the Easter holidays, and Natalie and I had just become best friends again. I’d gone to the library to meet Joshua and his friend, Lewis, with some of my rough comic ideas sketched out.
We’d been discussing all the different things we could do, when the subject of the comic’s name came up. Joshua had an idea. He said, “I think we should call it––”
“Hellfern Juniors!” Tanya had dramatically barged into the Quiet Reading Area, interrupting us.
Joshua and Lewis expressed surprise to see her, and Tanya explained that “a little birdie” had told her we were planning on starting a comic with “her idea” and it was “bare jokes” that we thought we could steal it from her.
Joshua argued and said even if he did want to call the comic that, it was just a funny name. And then Tanya was really livid. She said, “In case you forgot, our school ain’t called Hellfern, it’s called Hillfern. I said our school was like Hell and told Toons here –” she gestured at me then, “– to draw a cartoon of it, and call it Hellfern. That’s mine.”
(Tanya calls me Toons because I draw – geddit? Well, don’t shoot the messenger.)
This was true. Tanya had told me to draw the Hellfern cartoon of our school when she was annoyed she’d been “stitched up” and given a detention. I drew the building on fire with slightly scary lettering proclaiming it “Hellfern Juniors”. Tanya had loved it so much, she photocopied it and put it all round school.
“All right, so you came up with a joke,” said Joshua.
“Yeah. So that’s mine,” said Tanya.
“It’s not yours,” protested Lewis.
“It is,” said Tanya. Then, “I’ve been watching Law And Order, and that name is my intellectual property.”
There was a moment of silence as it sunk in that not only had Tanya just won this argument, but that the scariest girl in our school had just used the legal term “intellectual property”.
Prior to that I think if people had ever pictured Tanya interacting with the law, it had probably been in the capacity of criminal rather than prosecutor. (But I think, if anything, this highlights how unfair some reputations are.)
Joshua looked resigned. “All right, Tanya, so what do you want from us?” he asked.
“I want in,” said Tanya.
I felt like I was in a film. I never thought I would be party to a conversation at school where someone actually got to use the phrase “I want in”, and I wa
s in a gang last term and everything.
Disappointingly, the others had been oblivious to my secret delight. They all seemed pretty serious. I nearly tried to lighten the mood by joking that, at this rate, we’d all be jumping in taxis and shouting, “Follow that car!” But it didn’t seem like the right time.
The argument continued for a bit. Lewis said something about not thinking it was a “good fit”. Tanya said something about Lewis losing his attitude “by going home in an ambulance”.
I think, logistically, Lewis knew that he wouldn’t be going home in an ambulance, he’d (if anything) be going to hospital in one. But probably Tanya’s use of the word “ambulance” was enough to make him take the threat seriously and not bother to point this out to her.
Joshua had tried a different tack. “Look, the thing is, we’ve already got enough people,” he said.
Then the inevitable happened.
“Says who?” said Tanya. “Toons wants me in, don’t you, Toons?”
They all turned and looked at me. I wondered if this would be the bit in the film where the really awesome girl called Jessica would be unfairly set upon because she couldn’t please everyone. Because, personally, I thought that film would go straight to DVD.
But as they were looking at me, I realised that I did want Tanya in the comic. Sure, on the one hand she still kind of terrified me, but she had also been a loyal friend when I fell out with Natalie and Amelia (if anything, maybe a bit too loyal). And she had actually been quite instrumental in the whole cartoons thing taking off.
I mean, she’d not only been coming up with funny rude ideas to draw, but she’d also been distributing them around school and finding us an audience. It would seem crazy to stop her helping us do that, to my mind.
Lewis took some convincing. I tried to explain about Tanya’s creative and distribution skills as best I could. I suspected that part of the problem was that Lewis and Joshua were worried Tanya can be a bully, so I tried to make this look like a good thing.
“You want to charge for the comic and make money, don’t you? You know, eventually, once we’re established? Well, no one’s going to refuse to pay Tanya, are they?”
“Well…” Joshua looked like he was considering this.
“Look, I know you guys are worried about her reputation, or that she’ll take over,” I continued.
“Oi!” said Tanya.
“But it’s like … it’s like – you’re thinking of Tanya like she’s Batman,” I said triumphantly, pleased I could get my point across by speaking their language, the language of comic books.
“Sorry, how?” asked Joshua, folding his arms but looking vaguely amused. He’d raised one eyebrow, in a this better be good type way.
“You think Tanya is the hero Hellfern deserves but not the one it needs right now,” I said.
“No, I don’t.” Joshua looked a bit like he was trying not to laugh. “Sorry, but it’s not like Batman. I don’t think— Tanya is not like Batman.” He glanced nervously at her. “No offence, Tanya.”
“None taken,” replied Tanya amicably. (I think, by this point, she had started enjoying all this discussion about her. And being compared to Batman.)
“It doesn’t even slightly work in this context,” continued Joshua.
“Anyway,” I steered things back, “whatever you think, Tanya has a nice side that not many people see. Don’t misjudge her … Tanya is funny … and loyal … and … and actually has the soul of a poet.” (OK, even I wasn’t sure where I’d got that from.)
“Yeah,” said Tanya. “And I’ll punch anyone that doesn’t pay up.” (Which I think slightly stepped on my poetry point. Unless you count war poetry – that’s quite violent.)
But Tanya was in. Lewis was overruled. And practically overnight Tanya ended her reign of terror as the naughtiest girl in our school and started to focus more on her business career.
Back at the launch, Nat whispers, “I’m so proud of you,” and she squeezes my arm. “You’re a published cartoonist now!”
I beam at her. I mean, really, I’m a self-published cartoonist, but what she said sounds better.
A surge of pleasure shoots through me. We did this. We did it! It’s our cartoon comic. And this is just the beginning. I feel like we’re on an amazing adventure and we have a voice. I suddenly feel full of happiness and excitement at the thought. I squeeze Natalie’s arm back.
I never realised how important self-expression was to me until I finally had an outlet for it. Because now if anything bad happens to me, I can just turn it into a cartoon and feel better. Ever since I drew that sheep of Amelia, I feel like things can’t get to me as much. What’s that, Mum? I’m grounded? Well, you might just find yourself on the wrong side of a cartoon! Ha ha.
See? I definitely haven’t gone mad with power, or changed.
“Thanks,” I reply. Natalie and Amelia do seem genuinely impressed. They love events and planning and stuff, so I guess they are in their element at a launch.
“And don’t forget,” says Natalie, “I’m your biggest fan, and I knew you before all this. So don’t go thinking you can sack me off now just because you’re famous.” She sounds jokey but there’s something serious about her eyes.
I can’t help but laugh. “Famous? Nat, have you even seen how many people are here? Do you want me to do a head count?” (I’ve actually already done one – it’s eight. We have eight fans. But that’s not the point. I’m being self-deprecating, and that proves I haven’t changed.)
Natalie splutters laughter. “You know what I mean.”
It’s probably a good thing most of Year Six are outside, actually. Too many more people might have attracted the attention of a teacher.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “Best friends forever,” and I take out my half of our broken-heart necklace. She takes her half out and we match them up so they say “Best Friends Forever” on them. We both smile. She relaxes, though I have to say, I think it’s a bit rich that Nat could complain at all, considering how she went off with Amelia last term and everything.
“What on EARTH is going on in here?”
I look up, startled. Mrs Cole is standing at the entrance to 6C, looking angry.
Oh nooo! I freeze in panic as a cold chill grips my neck. “Please don’t see the comics, please don’t see the comics,” I repeat helplessly, on a loop in my head. What should I do? What should I do? Surely I should probably do something?
But before I can do anything, Tanya swiftly and calmly throws her coat over the pile of comics on the desk and turns to address Mrs Cole. “What’s up, teach?”
“Tanya, do not call me ‘teach’. Please address me as Mrs Cole or Miss. And what’s up is that it’s a lovely sunny day and I don’t understand why such a large group of you are indoors.”
“Well, Miss, we were going to throw you a surprise party, but you’ve ruined it now,” says Tanya, completely unflappable in the presence of a teacher.
“All right, let’s make this even easier, shall we?” says Mrs Cole wearily. “Get outside now, all of you, and you won’t have to come and see me at the end of school and tell me what’s really been going on. Go on. Out. Now.”
She holds the form-room door open for us, waiting, as we all file past. Tanya scoops up her coat and the comics, turning it into a kind of scrunched-up basket.
“I don’t think you need your coat outside today, Tanya,” says Mrs Cole. My heart starts beating even faster. I’m worried I’m bright red and completely giving the game away.
“Actually I do, Miss,” says Tanya, unfazed. “My mum says I’m not to let this coat out of my sight because if I lose it she will beat me from one end of the school to the other. Bit over the top, isn’t it, Miss? Do you think I should phone ChildLine?”
“OK, Tanya, just go.” Mrs Cole rolls her eyes and looks tired as she closes the door behind us, then heads back to the staffroom.
No one speaks until we are all the way outside.
“Oh my God! Tanya, you were amazin
g!” Emily pats Tanya on the back.
“I can’t believe you said those things to Mrs Cole!” exclaims Megan.
“You saved our bacon,” agrees Joshua. Even Lewis looks impressed.
I don’t want to say I told you so to Lewis, so I just give him my new raised-eyebrow smug look (that I’ve been practising in the mirror to annoy Ryan). I’m pretty sure Tanya’s position on the team is now assured forever. Although she is in some ways a beacon for teacher suspicion and interference, she’s also a master of subterfuge, so it evens out.
“Nice one!” I tell her.
“Cosmic,” replies Tanya.
I smile uncertainly. “Uh, cosmic?”
“It’s retro, innit?” says Tanya. “I’m bringing it back. Pass it on.”
“What do you think this is all about?” whispers Natalie as we file into the hall after lunch for our extra assembly.
“I don’t know,” I whisper back, trying not to yawn. I’m not that curious about it. “Road safety lecture?”
Once we’re all assembled in the hall, Miss Price addresses us from the front. “Well, everyone, I suppose you’re wondering why we’ve brought you here.”
I have to fight the urge to shout, “No! Not really!” Then I have to fight the urge not to giggle. Maybe hanging out with Joshua and Tanya and trying to come up with rude things to say is starting to affect me?
My Brilliant Life and Other Disasters Page 2