My Best Friend and Other Enemies
Page 11
“Right,” says Ryan, once he’s happy with where he’s set up the ship. “A lot has happened since last time, so I’d better fill you in.”
He isn’t kidding. There is a whole world in Ryan’s head. It’s actually kind of amazing. I mean, to be fair, a lot of it is quite heavily plagiarised from loads of films he has seen. (I don’t really see why pirates would be interested in trying to find the Arc of the Covenant). But still.
I’m actually kind of confused, though. “Hang on, Ryan,” I say, pointing to a little stripy-topped Lego man, the first mate who rebelled and formed a rival gang in our last game. “I thought Jimmy was—”
“That’s not Jimmy,” interrupts Ryan.
“What? Yes, it is.”
“No. We’ve started again with a new story,” says Ryan. “That’s Herman now.”
“Herman?” I repeat. Seriously. “I can’t keep up with these changes, Ryan. Make your mind up.”
“No,” says Ryan, looking a bit affronted. “We did the other story. It finished. When it’s too long, it gets boring and you have to have a new adventure.”
Well, all right, maybe he has a point about that. Things do get boring when they go on too long. I mean, look at double geography. (Ha ha, I just mentally high-fived myself for that one.)
Actually, now I come to think of it, that’s kind of what I’ve just done, let go of a long boring story so I can be proper friends with Natalie again. And actually it was Ryan’s Lego pirates that gave me the idea for the gang in the first place.
Is this really going to be a metaphor for my life? A six-year-old’s thoughts on Lego men? Because just once I would like to learn a life lesson from something that wasn’t pirate Lego.
Yay! It’s Friday – the best day of the week. And I am going to go into school with a clean slate, like my brother’s Lego pirates. Kind of. I mean, I’ll fire fewer cannon, obviously, but you get the idea.
And I am going to be positive. I’m looking forward to school. How weird is that? I am going to hand in my ace Easter bonnet drawing, chat to my new friend Joshua, and be friends properly with Natalie again. And if bad things happen, so what? There will be some good things coming along again eventually. That is the way it works.
In the form room before registration Natalie asks to have a quick word with me. Curious, I follow her out into the corridor and we go round the corner, under some stairs where our coats are hung on pegs.
“Jessica, I wanted to say sorry properly,” she says. “So I got you this.”
She’s got me a present! “You didn’t need to do that!” I beam, tearing into the pretty pink and silver paper, and revealing a small jewellery box. (I didn’t get her anything – but then she has been meaner to me than I have to her.) Inside the box is a silver necklace with a pendant in the shape of one half of a broken heart.
“Look, I have the other half,” says Natalie, pulling it out from under her shirt collar. “If you put them together the heart becomes whole again and they say ‘Best Friends Forever’. That way we’re best friends, even when we’re not together.” She holds her broken heart against mine, and the zigzag line matches up perfectly.
“Oh, wow!” I gasp. “I don’t know what to say! Natalie, I love it!”
I have this feeling I might be about to cry. That would be silly. This is a happy occasion. Natalie fastens the necklace around my neck for me and I blink hard. I love this necklace.
Natalie steps back and surveys it. “Oh, don’t! You’ll set me off!” she says, clocking my tears. Her eyes are red, too, and we both laugh and wipe at our eyes with our hands. “Oh, Jess, I am so sorry! Let’s never fight like that again!” she exclaims, and flings her arms around me.
I really feel like we’ve resolved something, and I feel close to Natalie again. I feel like I could tell her anything, any secret, and she is my best friend, and she will understand me (even when I am weird). All the bad stuff really has gone now. I mean, surely if we can come through that, we can come through anything.
Also, this necklace is only for two people. So Amelia can’t have one, and I am definitely Natalie’s best, number one friend. Not that that matters or anything – I mean, I am being very positive about everything, anyway. I’m just saying, is all.
We pull apart and joke about how we are idiots for crying. Finally we manage to control ourselves and go back into the form room for registration.
I gave in my Easter bonnet picture for the competition. It’s up on the display wall with all the others, and, well, it kind of stands out. It didn’t even occur to me that most people would (a) do it on some A4-sized paper. (Mine is huge.) And (b) that most people would literally just draw a simple, brown bonnet. (Mine is very colourful. And covered in fruit.)
Hmmm. I mean, a couple of people have done more creative pictures, with rabbit ears and stuff, but basically, mine stands out a mile away. I can’t work out if that is a good or a bad thing.
Joshua, Natalie and Amelia all come with me to the lunchtime announcement of the winner and runners up. Amelia is really trying to be nice to me.
“Which one is yours?” she asks.
“The fruit one.”
“Blimey, it’s a bit camp, isn’t it?” she comments. (All right, she’s kind of trying to be nice to me.)
The teachers start announcing the runners up. Harriet VanDerk is a runner up. Typical. And her bonnet was really boring. She hadn’t added anything inventive to it at all.
“And now for the winner,” Mr Scot is saying at the front of the hall. (Natalie squeezes my hand.) Mr Scot chuckles. “Well, it couldn’t really be anyone else, could it? Jessica Morris! What a lot of fruit! Come up here and receive your Easter egg.”
I’ve won! I’ve won! I’ve beaten all of 6P as well as 6C! I’ve beaten Harriet VanDerk at something! Oh my goodness! I go up and receive my giant Easter egg while everyone claps. I don’t think I’ve ever won anything before.
So this is what victory feels like! I’ve always wondered. It’s quite good, I suppose. People keep congratulating me (and asking to share my Easter egg). I can sort of see why people go on about winning now.
“See, I told you, it’s all about the melons,” jokes Joshua, patting me on the shoulder.
“It’s a shame it wasn’t a better prize, like money and stuff,” says Amelia.
“Yeah,” agrees Harriet VanDerk, coming over. “I suppose they’re getting you used to the idea that cartoonists are never going to be rich.” She chuckles.
“Yeah,” says Joshua sarcastically. “I think that’s how Matt Groening paid for his house, with Easter eggs.”
“Well done on being a runner up, Harriet,” I say politely.
“Yeah, thanks,” says Harriet. (She doesn’t return the compliment.) “I have to say, I think you cheated slightly,” she adds.
“What?” I’m shocked.
“Well, a great big fruit-covered thing? I mean, how were other people supposed to know you were going to do that? I could have done that if I’d known. I thought we had to draw a bonnet.”
“It’s weird, isn’t it?” says Joshua. “It’s as if you can be rewarded for actually having an imagination.”
“Yeah!” scoffs Harriet (not getting where he is coming from at all). “But luckily, only with Easter eggs.” And then she saunters off.
Oh my God. I think I might have found a person I hate more than Amelia! And I never thought that was possible. Harriet is annoyed I’ve beaten her. Even though she wins everything all the time, she still wants all the prizes and can’t be happy for other people. She has to pretend they cheated, rather than worked hard.
For a moment I’m seething, and then I realise this means she must be kind of unhappy. Plus I remember that I am being positive about everything from now on, so I don’t need to worry about this.
Natalie and Amelia and me all get the bus home together at the end of school.
I feel kind of pleased with myself. I mean, I know that Amelia feels like she beat me because of the spelling bee and every
thing, but I sort of feel like I won, because my cartoons are doing so well, and because, well, in a way, they both came crawling back, wanting to be my friend. (I mean, I know that isn’t entirely what happened. But that is kind of what happened.)
Plus it is Friday night! So we can have even more fun! I’m going to go home to get changed, then we are all meeting up round Natalie’s, and then we are going to go out to McDonald’s! Life is good.
As I arrive home, my mum is chatting to the VanDerks over the hedge again.
“Mum! Mum! I’m going to go to Natalie’s! That’s OK, isn’t it?”
My mum arches an eyebrow curiously, but doesn’t comment any further on how Natalie is suddenly back in my life.
“Any news on the drawing competition?” asks Mr VanDerk smugly and importantly.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were entering a drawing competition?” asks my mum then, suddenly looking weary.
“Hang on, you mean Harriet hasn’t told you?” I ask.
“Oh, she’s not back yet, she’s at advanced maths,” says Mrs VanDerk proudly.
“Oh, right,” I say. Wow. This family are so used to winning everything that they are totally assuming they have won again. They don’t know I beat Harriet yet.
I have no idea what that kind of blinkered self-confidence must feel like. (I wonder briefly if it would be good, or if it would inevitably make life quite disappointing.)
“So? How did everybody do?” probes Mr VanDerk.
“Oh. Well, actually, I won. Mum, can I go to Natalie’s, please?”
“Sorry, what did you say? It sounded like you said you won?” says Mrs VanDerk.
I feel like I’m getting bored with this conversation. I want to get changed and get to Natalie’s. “Yes, I won. I won the whole thing. I won the first prize. I beat everybody in 6P and 6C.” (They stare at me). “Harriet was a runner up,” I add. “Now can I please go to Natalie’s?”
“Did you?” My mum sounds incredulous.
“Yeah, look, this is my prize.” I show them the giant Easter egg. “Harriet’s got a smaller one,” I say to the VanDerks.
“Oh, well done, Jessica!” My mum gives me a massive hug.
“Will you drive me to Natalie’s?” I ask.
“Of course! You know, we should celebrate,” says my mum. Then, almost as an aside, she adds quietly to me, “I knew you two would sort things out if I just left you to it. Girls can be so funny at your age.” (Which I think (a) is ludicrous, seeing as my mum did try to interfere at least once; and (b) totally undermines my intense and moving struggle.)
“Oh well.” Mr VanDerk turns to Mrs VanDerk, trying to sound nonchalant. “It’s only a drawing competition.”
My mum loosens her third embrace of me, and faces the VanDerks. “But, just the other day, you were saying there was no such thing as only,” she says. “You said an achievement was an achievement, and it was always something to be proud of. I thought they were lovely stirring words to encourage children. You shouldn’t take them back, it might get confusing.”
“Oh, no, of course. It is, it is an achievement,” blusters Mr VanDerk. “Absolutely. And well done.” And with that, the VanDerks shuffle back into their house.
“Mum, you really shouldn’t gloat,” I say, when they’re gone.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, darling,” says my mum, leading me back into the house with a big smile on her face.
“Why is Mum so happy?” asks Ryan as we enter the house. He and my dad are sitting at the kitchen table and look up at us.
“Oh, did you tell Jess the good news?” asks my dad.
“What good news?” demands Ryan.
It starts to feel a bit like my family are playing that game where you have to answer a question with another question.
“Well,” says my dad, smiling. “As of now, we are no longer on an economy drive!”
“Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssss!” shouts Ryan, jumping up and running round the table. “Pizza! Pizza! Pizza!” he chants as he runs. Then he stops dead as another thought occurs to him. “Kit Kats,” he breathes in wonder.
My parents laugh at Ryan earnestly proclaiming Kit Kats the holy grail of his cuisine-based ambition. I manage a chuckle. He does look quite cute.
I nearly make a cheeky comment about how it was about time, because otherwise we would have been really scraping the barrel. And then eating the barrel. But looking at their happy faces, I decide not to. Let them have their fun. Plus, I’m super happy myself now – I’m going to Natalie’s!
Ah, life is good. I’m sitting in McDonald’s with Natalie and Amelia, eating a McFlurry, and we are discussing the future. In general. Mainly they seem to want to organise a trip involving the basketball team, but the point is, we all have this joint future together.
“So, should we do actual invites?” asks Natalie. “Or would that make boys not want to do something?”
“I think classy boys would respond well to invites,” insists Amelia.
Oh my God, is this what they have been doing all this time without me? Discussing whether boys do or don’t like invites? Because if it is, I really haven’t missed that much.
“What do you think, Jess?” asks Natalie. “What do you think would make boys want to go somewhere?”
“Um … just fun stuff, I guess,” I reply.
“Well, duh,” says Amelia tiredly. “We know that. Care to be more specific?”
“Uh … like … Thorpe Park or something …” I offer.
“Great idea!” beams Natalie.
Amelia looks annoyed. “Well, I think we should make a list of suggestions and then vote on the best ones.” (OK, so, seriously. Have I really just missed a load of admin all this time?)
“Or, we could do Rock Paper Scissors?” suggests Natalie. (Yes, yes it is. I’ve just missed out on admin.)
“Hey, or we could do Rock Paper Scissors to decide whether to do Rock Paper Scissors,” I joke.
“OK,” says Amelia seriously.
Ohh. OK, I still might hate Amelia. But it doesn’t matter, because I’ve got Natalie back, and later we are going to go back to her house and have a sleepover and watch a programme about dinosaurs together.
Life is good.
Copyright
MY BEST FRIEND AND OTHER ENEMIES
First published in the UK in 2012 by Nosy Crow Ltd
The Crow’s Nest, 10a Lant Street
London, SE1 1QR, UK
This ebook edition first published 2012
Nosy Crow and associated logos are trademarks and / or registered trademarks of Nosy Crow Ltd
Text © Catherine Wilkins, 2012
Cover illustrations © Sarah Horne, 2012
Interior illustrations © Sarah Horne, 2012
The right of Catherine Wilkins to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictiously. Any resemblence to actual people, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 978 0 85763 096 4
www.nosycrow.com
s