My Best Friend and Other Enemies

by Catherine Wilkins

  I draw a vain-looking cartoon sheep standing on its hind legs wearing sunglasses. It has a comedy hat with a slogan on it saying “Richer than U” and it’s wearing a small CAC badge pinned to its T-shirt.

  I draw the circle-of-shame circle and a line coming off the sheep. But instead of a sweat patch, I make it about something Amelia should actually be ashamed of, like making my best friend gang up on me. So in the circle I do a close-up of one of the front hooves holding a white envelope, and put, “OMG! Shameful! Plays nasty tricks on people” as the highlighted crime.

  Then I do the “what’s-she-wearing” lines coming off the cartoon sheep, and start drawing some ridiculous clothes. My favourite is what I do with the shoes. I give the sheep’s back hooves “reverse high heels”, and put in the box coming off it: “Latest fashion to make you look shorter. Sounds silly, and v. hard to walk in, but a top magazine said they were good, so they must be.”

  I make the T-shirt the Amelia-sheep is wearing an MBlaze band T-shirt, with tiny cartoon men on it. It’s a lot like a real fan T-shirt, except their slogan says, “MBlaze – no. 1 for crying about drivel”.

  Then I draw a couple more badges pinned to the T-shirt saying, “Down with individual thoughts” and, “Everyone who doesn’t want to be exactly like me should be bullied”.

  I wanted to add a McDonald’s-style name tag saying, “Hello, my name is Amelia and I’m here to insult you,” but there wasn’t enough room in the end.

  There. I think I might be done. I sit back and admire my handiwork. I’m quite proud of it, actually. I study my cartoon, and giggle slightly at how funny and daring I have been.

  To be honest, I feel quite a lot better. I feel like a weight has been lifted somehow. I think by doing this I must have vented all my frustrations. Now I feel light and happy. And I think Amelia is an idiot. Ha ha – she’s a sheep!

  I mean, there is no way I could actually hand this out in school, though. Masses undermining The Man or no masses undermining The Man. I’ve gone way too far for that. It’s really quite offensive. I giggle again. Yeah, there’s no way I’m giving this out. Then I’d be as bad as she is.

  Plus, I quite like this being my own little secret. And I can just look at this picture to cheer myself up whenever Amelia makes me feel blue. I’m a genius. I admire it some more and then put it in my school bag. This cartoon is going to be my “Amelia Stress-Buster!”

  I’m still feeling pretty Zen and pleased with myself as I ride the bus to school the next day. I have my stress-busting cartoon in my bag, which my sister said definitely did qualify as a satirical cartoon. How good is that?

  Tammy also said she really liked it and that I should definitely show it to everyone at school. Right before she got chucked out of my room by my parents so that she couldn’t “pollute” my or Ryan’s “young minds” against the dangers of capitalism any more. (Little did they know she was actually trying to convince me to start a vendetta against a new girl at school – which I think might be worse than capitalism, in some ways.)

  Anyway, I’m still not going to hand it out. Tammy is way too into conflict and really doesn’t seem to be able to tell (or care) when doing something will make the situation worse. This cartoon is just for me. Well, I might show it to Joshua; he’d probably like it. And maybe Tanya, but that’s it.

  Mind you, I’m surprised my parents don’t support my sister’s views a bit more. I mean, the fact we’re still on an economy drive kind of suggests that capitalism hasn’t worked out that well for us. But some people just can’t be told. Or convinced to get a dog.

  I can see why my parents are annoyed with Tammy, though. I do get that she has kind of used my and Ryan’s “young minds” (and love of animals) to try and make my parents do something they don’t want to. But, the point is – it’s for a good cause. (Just like my dastardly cartoon-scheme.) Plus, we’d get a dog. And dogs are awesome.

  Natalie and Amelia look up as I enter 6C, and stop talking. I ignore them as best I can, trying not to feel nervous, and go over to my desk anyway.

  “Oh, look who it is,” says Amelia to me. “The mystery litter lout.”

  “What?” I say, taken aback.

  “Bit cowardly, isn’t it? Hiding behind a bit of paper. Thought you liked to stand on your own two feet,” she continues.

  Oh God, how does she know? She can’t have seen my cartoon. For one thing it’s still in my bag and no one at school has seen it. I nervously stroke my bag with one hand. She can’t know; has she guessed? No way! If Amelia has the powers of the thought police, that would really be the living end.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say truthfully.

  “All right, play it that way,” says Amelia coolly. “But we might just have a little surprise of our own. Actually, do you know how to spell that?” She smirks.

  “T-h-a-t,” I joke before I can stop myself. What’s wrong with me? Part of me is a little bit scared of what on earth horrible Amelia is talking about now, and here I am making silly jokes!

  Amelia gives me a disgusted look and then raises her desk lid so she doesn’t have to look at me. She and Natalie start whispering. Well, I don’t care. (I do care a bit.) But officially, I don’t care. And what’s spelling got to do with it, anyway?

  OK. So I know what spelling has to do with it now. There is a notice in assembly about the inter-form spelling bee championship. Anyone interested is supposed to sign up. And get this – Amelia has signed me up! I’m so rubbish at spelling, I will definitely lose. She obviously wants to see me humiliated. Honestly. If this isn’t the living end, it must be close to it.

  I’m determined to un-sign myself. At break time I decide to head to the staffroom to tell Mrs Cole, our form teacher, that I’m not doing the spelling bee and to take me off the list. Huh, maybe I should photocopy my cartoon. No, no way. I would never do that. Why has Amelia entered me in the spelling bee, though?

  “Toons! Oi, Toons! Slow down!” It’s Tanya Harris. I stop attempting to push my way through the throng of people heading for the canteen and turn back to meet her. Tanya would love my cartoon sheep. And I’m so angry with Amelia I want her to see it.

  “Hey, Tanya, look at this,” I say, pulling the cartoon out of my bag as soon as she reaches me. Tanya surveys the “Hellfern Juniors’ Fashion-Victim Sheep” with interest and then snorts delighted laughter.

  “Oh, Toons, this is brilliant. You did this? You should have said. I wouldn’t have already taken care of things for you.” A warning bell goes off in my head.

  “Oh, um … what, Tanya?”

  “Like I said, I took care of things for you. I got your back, remember? ’Cause we’re in a gang and that. I said I’d be your muscle. Sorted.”

  “What did you do?” I try not to sound panicked.

  “Shantair told me they played a trick on you with some letter. She saw the whole thing. Well out of order. Nasty cows. We can’t have that. Not little Toons. You’re too nice. That’s like picking on Bambi or something. So I printed this out in free computer time, during IT.” She hands me a folded-up piece of paper.

  “Just a little warning shot across the bows. Something to make them think twice before doing anything like that again. I put one of these on Amelia’s desk this morning.”

  “Oh wow, did you?” I’m momentarily speechless.

  I unfold the piece of paper. In massive capital letters, in black computer print, it says,

  Oh. My. Goodness. It’s like some kind of Mafia warning. OK, part of me is amused and kind of impressed that Tanya has managed to use free computer time in IT to print out threats. It’s sort of enterprising, in a way. But still.

  “You’re welcome.” Tanya beams. Then she winks and saunters off down the now less crowded corridor.

  I head towards the staffroom feeling flustered. I can’t decide if I’m more pleased or more terrified that I’m under Tania’s “protection” and she wrote that note. I think in a way I’m flattered. Though also embarrassed at having
to be “rescued”. I’ve never been sure where I fitted in at school, but now I know: I am the equivalent of Bambi – to Tanya Harris.

  And now I also know what Amelia was talking about this morning, and why she entered me in the spelling bee in the first place. Plus, Amelia clearly thinks I asked Tanya to put ACE under her protection. Which I didn’t. (So in a way Tanya has caused this stupid spelling problem.)

  To my utter dismay, Mrs Cole won’t let me un-sign myself from the spelling bee. She’s in a hurry when I catch her at the end of break, and in no mood to negotiate.

  “But what if I told you I didn’t even enter? Someone played a trick on me,” I say.

  “Look, Jessica, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but this is no time for silly indecisiveness. There’s no way you’re un-signing yourself. This will be great for you.”

  “Oh.” I consider the bind I appear to be in. “But it won’t. Honestly, Mrs Cole. I’m rubbish at spelling. It’s going to be embarrassing. Please let me un-sign, please.”

  “Now, listen here, Jessica,” says Mrs Cole, sounding serious. “You are a perfectly clever girl, and there is no reason in the world that you won’t improve at spelling if you just put the work in. Trying is a brilliant thing, you know. It gets you many places.” (I can’t think of anywhere good that trying has got me at the moment.) “Plus, there are cash prizes.”

  “Cash prizes?”

  “Well, iTunes vouchers. But that’s as good as cash, isn’t it? I’m sure that’s what you young things would spend your money on anyway.”

  “Well …”

  “And on an unrelated matter, your art teacher, Mrs Cooper, tells me you are very good at drawing.”

  “I, um …”

  “So I very much hope that you will enter the Easter bonnet drawing competition as well.”

  “Well, that sounds very nice but—”

  “Get involved, Jessica. The spelling bee should be fun. Come on, what have you got to lose?” (Hello? Only my dignity, or what remains of it.)

  “Mrs Cole, please—”

  “No, Jessica. You’re doing it. Break’s over now, I believe you have a class to get to? Now that would be embarrassing, if you were late.”

  And then she brushes past me, off to the next lesson. I am stuck in the spelling bee. I hate Amelia.

  A weird thing happens at the end of the day.

  “Are you going to swot up on your spellings before tomorrow?” asks Cherry as we start heading towards chess club. “Because I definitely think you should.” (This isn’t the weird thing, btw – we always go to chess club on a Wednesday, and Cherry is always telling me to study more.)

  “I’m not sure it would make that much difference,” I reply.

  “I really think you should at least try, though,” says Cherry.

  “Um. Well, the thing is, it’s just a—”

  “Hey, nice cartoon!” says a boy called Luke as he passes us in the corridor.

  “Really funny sheep,” adds his friend, Sam. Then they’re gone.

  That’s the weird thing.

  For a second I think: that’s odd. Why would anyone congratulate me on … Then I think: NO WAY! Nooooo!

  “What are they talking about?” asks Cherry as I suddenly scrabble through my bag, trying to find my stress-busting picture. It’s not in there!

  “Oh no,” I whisper.

  “What?”

  “I think … Cherry, I think Tanya Harris might have taken a cartoon I drew of – well, kind of – of Amelia, and photocopied it.”

  Oh God, how could I have not noticed she took it? I was so flustered. Tanya probably photocopied it thinking she was doing me a favour! I never got round to explaining the whole private, stress-busting nature of the cartoon, I was too distracted by her scary note.

  Well, it’s not decisively Amelia. It doesn’t have her name on it. Thank God. I cringe as I remember how I nearly added that. Ohhh. Why did I show it to Tanya? Why?

  OK, focus. It’s just a funny cartoon. It’s just a funny sheep cartoon, mocking a certain type of person (which Amelia happens to be) but it is not aimed at her.

  Ohhh. I didn’t do this. Tanya did this. (I kind of did this.) But it’s Tanya’s fault, not mine. Maybe if I find Tanya, I can find out how many copies she made, and stop them getting any further. Yeah. Maybe Amelia won’t even see it.

  “There you are!” A shout comes from behind us. We turn around. Amelia is standing there, looking livid. Natalie is a little bit behind her. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say I think Amelia might have already seen the “Hellfern Juniors’ Fashion-Victim Sheep” cartoon.

  “Hi there,” I say, weirdly amicable.

  “Drawn anything lately?” sneers Amelia.

  “Hey,” I say. “Firstly, I did not photocopy that. And secondly, prove it.”

  Amelia carries on. “What makes you such an expert on how to be nice to people, anyway?” She kind of sounds upset. I suppose you would be. Even if you were Amelia.

  “Amelia, let’s just go,” says Natalie.

  “Fine,” says Amelia. “But don’t think I don’t know that sheep is meant to be me!”

  “Look, it’s actually a complete accident,” I explain. “I never meant anyone to see it.”

  Amelia glares at me disbelievingly, with a slightly insane expression on her face. “I am going to ANNIHILATE you in the spelling bee tomorrow!” she yells.

  If I’m completely honest, I have mixed feelings about all this. Amelia has been really mean to me and part of me is glad she’s annoyed. But the rest of me feels a bit sorry for her. I never meant to gang up on her. And she is new.

  “I don’t care about the stupid spelling bee,” I say. “I only care that you’ve taken my best friend away and been really horrible to me. I didn’t mean for that cartoon to get out but, whatever, Amelia. What goes around comes around.”

  Natalie and Amelia stare at me, open mouthed. Cherry and I turn our backs on them and go to chess club.

  Well, I didn’t expect this turn of events. I didn’t expect to blurt out the truth about how I feel to Natalie and Amelia while a cartoon I drew but didn’t intend to distribute is doing the rounds.

  Honestly, though, I’m a little bit confused. I’ve been trying to get Amelia back for ages. Now I’ve sort of done it, it doesn’t actually feel that good. It feels mean. I didn’t do it, I remind myself. I wash my hands of this. I really do. Well, I really would if I just didn’t feel quite so guilty.

  Amelia is horrible. In many ways she had it coming. I’m over it. I’m over this whole Amelia thing. Except …

  I think it’s just that I’ve successfully upset and annoyed Amelia so much that she’s actually threatened me with annihilation. At a spelling bee. I mean, I’m not able to take either of those things seriously but the point is, she lost her cool.

  I think for the first time I can see her as this tiny new girl, trying to fit in. Desperately trying to do anything she can to make and keep new friends. (Even if it means victimising their existing friends.) She’s been constantly trying to act cool and popular so that people will like her.

  But now she’s lost her cool and, in my eyes at least, she’s lost her power. So Tammy was right about the power of a satirical cartoon. I’m not scared of her any more. I just feel a bit sorry for her. That won’t stop her, of course, and she is going to gloat a lot about this spelling bee. God, I hate spelling.

  So, I probably should be practising my spelling now. But what I’m actually doing is using the family laptop to look at videos of people falling over. I really should stop in a minute and do some work. Well, just one more.

  My sister is still here. I think she’s been out on some kind of march or protest or something about cuts to public services. There was another fight between her and my parents. Now she’s gone out again, but I think she’s coming back tonight.

  It’s a shame she’s out, because she could help test me on spellings. Ryan doesn’t understand enough long words to help me. And I don’t wa
nt to ask my parents because then they’ll know I’m in a spelling bee and they’ll make me do loads of work, as if it’s actually important or something.

  But, you know, it’s actually all Tammy’s fault that I am still watching videos on the computer instead of learning how to spell. I am definitely going to stop in a minute. Just one more.

  So it’s Thursday. The spelling bee is at lunchtime and I’ve done nothing. Well, not nothing. I tested myself to see if I could spell disestablishmentarianism. And I couldn’t. Also, I don’t know what it means. But that’s a really long word, isn’t it? That’s bound not to come up.

  I don’t know what I was thinking. I should have been testing myself on more likely words like “investigate” and “remember”. If only I’d remembered. Ha ha, I am funny. Even in times of crisis. Oh God.

  I sign up for the Easter bonnet competition at break time, on the way to art. I figure I might as well. I’m sure this is exactly the sort of thing that Amelia would say makes me babyish, but I don’t care, I like drawing.

  According to the jovial-looking notice, we just have to draw what we think a brilliant Easter bonnet would look like. 6C and 6P are going head to head, just like in the spelling bee.

  I love how our school tries to make it sound exciting, like it’s wrestling or something. “Two will enter, only one will leave.” (OK, they don’t exactly do that, but they might as well.) It’s daft if you ask me.

  Hmm. The notice says the best ones will be displayed, and the winners will get Easter eggs. Easter eggs? What happened to cash prizes? (Or iTunes vouchers?) Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE chocolate. But it’s almost as if they are saying that drawing shouldn’t be taken as seriously as spelling, or something.