Boy2Girl

by Terence Blacker

  ‘How’s that old man of yours?’ The question came out of nowhere.

  ‘He’s fine,’ I said automatically.

  ‘Meaning you ain’t talked to him, right?’

  ‘Meaning he hasn’t called me. My father’s a pretty busy man.’

  Sam looked at me, all cool and narrow-eyed. ‘It’s like I told you. Sometimes you have to make the first move.’

  ‘Thanks for the advice, Mr Family Expert.’

  A couple of weeks ago, Sam might have lost it at this point, but now he just smiled. ‘You coming to the concert tomorrow night?’

  I shrugged. ‘I didn’t want to, but my mum insisted. It’s the kind of thing she likes to be seen at. It makes her feel like a real parent.’

  ‘Lose her.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Lose your mum. There’ll be other concerts for her to go to. Tell your dad you’d like him to be there.’

  ‘It’s a Saturday night. He’ll have things planned.’

  ‘I’ll bet you ten quid he accepts.’

  ‘I’m not sure, Sam.’

  ‘Sometimes you have to be more adult than the adults.’

  It was at that moment I noticed Mark Kramer walking towards us, followed by a couple of his friends from the Lower Sixth, Dan Collins and Liam Murphy.

  Mark

  I’d had it up to here with the comments. For two days, guys in my class had been giving me grief about my date with Sam. They said that they had heard I’d been hiding in the stands while she was out there, mixing it with the away fans. I’d been shown up by a little Year Eight girl. I wasn’t the cool, hard guy that I like to make out. They said that maybe I should try one of the Year Seven girls next time. It was getting beyond a joke.

  Between you and me, I wasn’t exactly crazy about going out with Sam again. The way she had been that night had broken the spell. Maybe deep down I’m old-fashioned about this but, given the choice (and Mark Kramer does have the choice, believe me), I’d prefer to go out with a girl who behaves more or less like a girl.

  On the other hand, there was a principle involved. Mark Kramer does not allow some skinny little kid to make him look stupid in front of his friends.

  So here was what I was going to do. I was going to take her out this weekend. We’d go somewhere safe where there was no danger of her getting into a fight. I’d make her my girlfriend, like it or not. Then I’d dump her.

  Back at school, the word would soon be out. Mark had hooked up with Sam. The natural order had returned. Mr Heartbreak was back in town.

  Matthew

  You know how, when they’re showing those wildlife documentaries, herd animals act together almost as if they are part of one huge body. That’s the way it is at school. Nobody has to say that there’s trouble about. It’s in the air. Almost before it happens, the whole herd is on red alert.

  I was talking to Tyrone when I noticed Mark and a couple of other boys moving in on Sam and Jake. There was something in the way Mark stood between his two mates, as if he were squaring up to Sam, that suggested that they were not just shooting the breeze.

  We decided to take a closer look.

  Zia

  I was with Charley and Elena and we were looking for Sam to fix up a band rehearsal that night. She was nowhere to be seen.

  Then we saw her in the corner of the playground. She was surrounded by boys.

  Mark

  No way was I threatening her. All I wanted was for a couple of the guys to be there to see with their own eyes that Mark Kramer hadn’t lost his touch. And, if they were on each side of me as I talked to Sam, so what? How were they meant to stand – in single file?

  ‘Hey, cupcake,’ I said, nice and friendly.

  She glanced away briefly from her little friend, whatever his name was. ‘Fade,’ she said.

  ‘That eye of yours all right, is it?’

  ‘Sure. No problems.’ She turned back to her friend.

  ‘What you doing Saturday night, babe?’ Sam seemed not to hear me. ‘Wanna take in a club?’ I said.

  ‘I’m busy,’ she said. ‘Oh, and by the way, just for the record, I’m not your babe.’

  I laughed and winked at a couple of Year Eight kids, Matthew and Tyrone, who had wandered over and were listening in. ‘That’s not what she said the other day,’ I told them.

  This remark seemed to take a while to sink into Sam’s pretty little head. Then she took a step towards me.

  ‘Why don’t you just go sit on it?’ she said quietly. ‘I’m singing at the concert tomorrow night and, even if I wasn’t, I’d rather die than be seen out with a loser like you.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ I groped in my mind for a killer comeback line but, unusually, there was nothing there. ‘Why’s that then?’

  Elena

  Sam just smiled slowly, her eyes fixed on Mark’s. ‘Why am I not going out with you?’ she said. ‘Because I’m going out with someone else.’

  Charley and I looked at each other, eyes wide. This was news – big news.

  ‘Yeah, right.’ Mark chuckled nastily. ‘And who exactly would that be, little girl?’

  Sam shrugged, and walked slowly towards the least likely candidate for boyfriendhood in the whole of Bradbury Hill.

  Tyrone

  Whaaat?

  Matthew

  Tyrone tried to smile. When Sam slung an arm over his big shoulders, he made as if to pull away, but Sam held on tight.

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ said Charley. ‘Tyrone? He’s so…I mean, he’s so Tyrone.’

  ‘She’s kidding,’ said Mark. ‘Who’d want to go out with a little fat kid?’

  ‘You’re jealous,’ said Sam. ‘Ty’s twice the man you are.’ Suddenly all eyes were on Tyrone, the surprise stud of Bradbury Hill.

  He swallowed hard. ‘I think you’ve bothered my girlfriend enough,’ he said, his voice shaking slightly.

  Mark ignored him and stared at Sam. ‘You are so dead, little girl,’ he said. He turned away and walked off with as much dignity as he could manage, followed by Dan and Liam.

  ‘Congratulations,’ I said Jake, shaking his head in wonderment. ‘True love strikes again.’

  ‘I’m shocked,’ said Charley.

  ‘Never trust the quiet ones,’ I said.

  ‘I don’t believe it.’ It was a whisper that came from Zia. ‘I just don’t believe it.’

  Mrs Cartwright

  Talent Night at Bradbury Hill, is a marvellous occasion. It gives the kids an opportunity to show off their talents. The parents and future parents can get a sense of what the school is all about and I always make sure that I invite a few influential local councillors and journalists along. It’s what I call a harvest festival of publicity for the school.

  That said, I felt the merest smidgen of alarm about this year’s event.

  It had been something of an irregular term. There had been a fight in the playground on the first day, the Year Eight girls had started behaving like boys, two pupils had become involved in a football riot and my spies in the Lower Sixth were suggesting that Mark Kramer was up to some sort of mischief.

  It’s not in my nature to point the finger of blame at any one individual, but I couldn’t help noticing that a common thread ran through all these problems.

  That blinking little American girl. What on earth had possessed me to accept her as a pupil?

  Tyrone

  Big joke. Hilarious. Thanks a bunch, Sam. First he gives my mum the impression that I’m some sort of teenage love god whose secret ambition is to become an accountant. Then he makes sure that I’m public enemy number one for Mark Kramer and his gang by telling the world I’m his major squeeze.

  Could it get worse? Of course it could.

  ‘How’s that nice girlfriend of yours?’ my mother asked me on Friday evening. ‘You don’t seem to be seeing so much of her these days.’

  I shrugged. ‘You know what they say – treat ’em mean, keep ’em keen.’

  Wrong move.

  ‘Now listen h
ere, Tyrone Sherman.’ My mother moved swiftly into responsible-parent mode. ‘Just because you happen to be powerfully attractive to the opposite sex, it does not mean that you should treat them badly. I refuse to stand by and see you behaving like some sort of…love rat.’

  ‘I am not a love rat, Mum,’ I said wearily. ‘The fact is, Sam’s been rehearsing a lot for Talent Night tomorrow. She’s in a girl band.’

  Uh-oh. I caught sight of my mother’s expression. I had goofed again.

  ‘Talent night?’ she said. ‘Tomorrow? I had almost forgotten.’

  ‘Mum, we don’t have to—’

  ‘Don’t say another word, Tyrone Sherman. You are going to support your girlfriend and that’s the end to it. I can’t wait to hear her sing.’

  Oh, terrific. That was all I needed.

  Charley

  It was weird. Ever since Sam had stunned us by revealing that she fancied Tyrone, Zia had gone into a serious decline.

  ‘Forget the rehearsal!’ she snapped as we collected our coats at the end of the day. ‘The band’s history. I’m performing solo.’

  ‘But we’re good,’ I said. ‘What’s the problem?’

  Zia shook her head. ‘You wouldn’t understand,’ she said.

  ‘But we put in all that work,’ said Elena. ‘I was going to wear my new crop top.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Zia. ‘I just can’t do it – I can’t explain why.’

  It was at that moment that Sam appeared.

  ‘I’ve been looking for you,’ she said to Zia. ‘We need to talk.’

  ‘Why don’t you talk to your darling Tyrone?’ said Zia.

  ‘Because I want to talk to you.’

  ‘Forget it,’ said Zia.

  ‘I’ll walk you home. I’ve got some news to tell you.’

  For the first time I sensed that something odd was going on here and decided to act Miss Kind-and-Tactful. ‘We’ll call you later,’ I said.

  Sam and Zia walked away, Sam talking seriously and Zia nodding as she went. They were almost like, I don’t know, a couple.

  ‘I don’t get it,’ said Elena. ‘What is that girl’s problem?’

  ‘Search me,’ I said.

  The call from Zia came through within minutes of my getting home.

  ‘About that practice,’ she said. ‘It’s tomorrow at ten – round at Sam’s place.’

  ‘I thought the band was breaking up?’

  ‘Not any more.’

  ‘So what changed?’

  Zia laughed at the other end of the phone. ‘Life, love, showbiz – everything’s changed,’ she said.

  And I had always thought of her as one of the sane ones.

  Ottoleen

  Something about the Brit food seems to disagree with me – suddenly it’s Bail City every morning for days. The weather’s turned grey and, between you and me, Crash is just not the same as he used to be.

  He hasn’t hit anyone for a week. He has started drinking English beer. Once, when someone pulled out in front of his Nissan, causing him to brake hard, he just shook his head and laughed. ‘These Limeys,’ he said, almost affectionately.

  That’s not right. That’s not normal. That’s not the Crash Lopez I married.

  So, on the day before the school concert, he’s suddenly coming on like he really does want to impress the teachers that he is a serious would-be parent. He’s bought these terrible clothes – like, a dark-blue blazer and trousers with turn-ups.

  ‘Crash, you look like a crusty old British colonel,’ I say, as that Friday evening back in the hotel room he showed me how he was going to look.

  ‘I’m merging, kid,’ he says. ‘The English don’t do fashion – they’re famous for it. Snappy dressers make them nervous.’

  ‘Does that mean you won’t even be wearing your shades?’

  Crash gazes at himself in the mirror. He takes off his shades experimentally, blinks a couple of times, then quickly puts them back on.

  ‘The shades stay,’ he goes. ‘I can’t see without ’em.’

  I put my arm around him. ‘Then can we go back to the States?’ I whisper. ‘I’m getting homesick.’

  ‘Sure,’ says Crash. ‘This time tomorrow we’ll be on our way there. Just the three of us. And a nice, fat bank account.’

  ‘Oh great,’ I murmur.

  But to tell the truth I’m not feeling great about anything right now – least of all there soon being three of us. You know what they say about three being a crowd?

  Zia

  She told me. He told me. The truth came out as he walked me home that evening. I should have been angry but I wasn’t. I was happy, happier than I’ve ever been in my entire life.

  She was a he. We were us. And me? I was just living the words of my song.

  High in the sky.

  Looking down on the world.

  Me on my private cloud.

  18

  Jake

  I delayed making the call to my father for as long as possible – sometimes, I thought, if you leave a problem for long enough, it self-corrects – but, by Saturday morning, I had reached that now-or-never moment. I took the cordless phone to my room and dialled the number.

  ‘Jake.’ My father sounded surprised and, it seemed to me, rather less than delighted to be hearing from his son. He started asking the usual boring questions about school – anything to avoid talking about what was really going on in his life and mine. I interrupted him.

  ‘There’s the school concert tonight. Can you come?’

  ‘Concert? But—’ He gave a little laugh. ‘You don’t play anything.’

  That’s Dad all right – always the supportive one. ‘A friend of mine’s playing,’ I said. ‘I thought you’d like to check up on me with the teachers.’

  ‘Would I ever do that?’ he said, playing for time. ‘What about your mother?’

  ‘I’m asking you. Please, Dad.’

  Silence from the other end of the phone. I was about to tell him to forget it, when he said, ‘I’d really like to, Jake, but I don’t want any more trouble with Mum.’

  ‘And if she agrees?’

  ‘I’d love to.’

  When I went downstairs, my mother and Chrissie were in the kitchen.

  ‘Mum,’ I said. ‘Would you mind if I went to the school concert tonight with Dad?’

  They both looked at me as if I had said something unspeakably shocking.

  ‘I’m going to the concert, Jake,’ said my mother. ‘It was agreed.’

  ‘Dad wants to go.’

  My mother laughed. ‘It’s only because he knows it will upset me. That man is so transparent.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Chrissie chimed in. ‘Like he’s been really interested in school concerts before, hasn’t he?’

  ‘It was me who asked him,’ I said.

  ‘That’s nice,’ my mother murmured bitterly.

  ‘Mum was really looking forward to that as well,’ said Chrissie. ‘Honestly, men are just so selfish. It’s just me-me-me with them.’

  My mother was looking at me, and I knew what the next step would be in this little game. She’d play the guilt card.

  ‘No, that’s fine.’ She smiled bravely. ‘I’ll find something to do, I’m sure. I look after you all week, and your father gets the treats at the weekend. That seems pretty much the way it goes these days.’

  ‘It’s just that I haven’t seen him for a long time.’

  ‘Aaaah,’ said Chrissie. ‘Let’s all feel sorry for Jakey.’

  Mum ignored her. Then to my surprise, she nodded. ‘For you,’ she said. ‘Not for him, mind – for you.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum,’ I said, and kissed her quickly on the cheek before she had time to move away.

  Matthew

  I knew that something was up when Sam suggested that I sat in on the rehearsal. Why should the girls want me there? It had to be a non-musical thing.

  My parents like to do a big shop on Saturday mornings, which meant that we had the house to ourselves.

 
The girls arrived together, Zia toting her guitar and grinning as if she had just been told the greatest news ever.

  I fetched them drinks from the fridge, as if we were all best friends. Then, as they wandered through to the sitting room, Sam casually mentioned that I was staying for the rehearsal.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ said Elena, glancing at Zia.

  But Zia shrugged as she sat down on the sofa and opened her guitar case. ‘I have no problem with that,’ she said. ‘Maybe it would be useful to have an audience.’

  ‘Zed.’ Elena stood, hands on hips, looking profoundly shocked. ‘And maybe this should be a band decision.’

  Zia glanced at Sam and smiled.

  Sam smiled back. It was somehow an unmistakably guy-like smile. Suddenly I knew what was on the way.

  He stood up. ‘Girls,’ he said.

  There was something in his tone of voice that caused Charley and Elena to glance at one another in alarm. ‘What do you mean “girls”?’ said Charley.

  ‘Are you talking to us?’ asked Elena.

  Sam spread his arms, enjoying the moment. ‘I got something to tell ya.’

  Charley

  No. Forget it. Impossible. This was some kind of weird Yank wind-up.

  But as Sam spoke, I looked first at Zia, then at Matt. ‘Is this true?’ I asked.

  Matt nodded. ‘Sam’s a boy,’ he said. ‘Always has been, always will be. It was one of those jokes that got out of hand.’

  ‘Out of hand?’ This was a sort of shriek from Elena. ‘I’ll say it got out of hand. You’ve made fools of us, you dork. We thought you were one of us.’

  ‘I am one of you. El, listen—’

  But Elena was on a roll now. ‘Think of everything I’ve done for you. The secrets I’ve told you, the time I’ve spent with you, the make-up tips we shared. I even lent you my bra.’