Authors: Candy Harper
‘Brilliant. See you there.’
And he walked off across the park.
I went home to climb into my bed, but then I remembered Granny has taken over my bedroom, so I went into the dining room, closed the door behind me and lay on my cushion mountain. For three hours. Completely still. Except for my poor little heart which was burning and aching and turning itself inside out whilst shouting,
Stop stomping on me, Ethan!
LATERER
When I finally pulled myself together, I got up and washed my face. I wasn’t very hungry but I managed to choke down a triple decker sausage sandwich to stop me from fading away. I picked up my phone to call Megs, but then I put it down again. I want to talk to her, but I’m afraid she won’t want to talk to me. Ethan said everyone is going to Westy’s tonight, so maybe I’ll just wait to see Megs there. That way I can work out if she hates me from a safe distance and if she does I can sneak off home and crawl under my cushions and cry.
Nice to have plans for the evening.
EVEN LATER
When I arrived at Westy’s, Ethan opened the door.
‘Hey,’ I said.
‘Hi.’ He gave me a massive grin. In fact, he looked so pleased to see me that I sort of froze and just stood there smiling back at him.
He snapped out of it first. ‘Er, so . . . Megan is here, but please don’t get cross, I just want you to see something.’
He caught hold of my hand and pulled me into Westy’s sitting room.
My hand.
He was holding my hand. I can only be thankful to my legs that they managed to keep going on auto pilot because the whole of my brain was given over to thinking about the hand situation. As we walked into the room, I caught sight of Megs who gave me a raised eyebrow. I don’t know if the eyebrow was referring to the hand-holding or if it was some sort of greeting. I’ve told her before that her eyebrows need to learn to communicate more clearly. But before I could start wondering if Megs and her eyebrows were still mad at me, Ethan let go of my hand and said, ‘Hit it, Westy.’
The lights went out and the TV went on. There on screen was my giant face. I mean, my head is normal sized (which is a miracle when you think about Dad’s melon-head) but Westy’s TV is huge. Anyway, there it was, the video Ethan had made with me babbling on about how much I love Megs.
What the monkey was this all about? Then I got it. Ethan was staging some sort of intervention. I knew he was up to something! What a cheeky, presumptuous, completely and utterly lovely boy. I can’t believe he went to all this bother just to help me and Megs out. How incredibly sweet. I turned to look at Megs who was wearing the expression she usually reserves for fluffy ducklings or when I let her have the last piece of cake. I think she liked hearing how ace she is. Then my head disappeared from the screen and we cut to Megs. Who had filmed her? And when?
Megs was chatting away in the ‘special’ voice that she uses when anyone films her. It’s half cockney with a touch of American. ‘My best friend is funny and smart and crazy good fun. Also, she tries really hard to hide it, but she is actually really kind. I know that whenever I need her she’ll always look after me,’ Megs said.
My heart squeezed. That girl is a Brussels sprout, but she really is the best. Suddenly I didn’t feel worried or shy anymore.
‘Oh, Megs!’ I said pushing Elliot out of the way and flinging my arms around her.
Megs crushed me like a boa constrictor and lifted me off my feet.
The lights went back on and I realised that our whole gang was there cheering. They all knew about this! Sneaky chimps.
I looked around at my grinning mates. ‘Whose idea was this?’
‘Ethan’s,’ Cam said. ‘Which is pretty surprising because usually he enjoys other people’s misery.’
‘Thank you,’ I said to Ethan.
‘That’s all right.’ I think he may have actually been blushing.
While everyone was getting into the crisps and fighting over the comfiest sofa, I pulled Megs out into the hallway.
‘Listen, you and I know that I’m generally totally ace, but very occasionally I can also be a tiny bit bossy. I know I was being selfish trying to get you to come to France, but it’s only because I love you and I like spending time with you. Even in crazy places like France.’
She nodded.
‘I shouldn’t have just assumed that you’d be able to afford to come with me. It was an expensive trip; my mum made a big thing of how I shouldn’t expect much for Christmas. I’m sorry I wasn’t more thoughtful.’
Megs let out a long breath. ‘I probably wasn’t completely fair. I mean, I don’t think I would have liked it if you hadn’t cared whether I came or not, it’s just that . . . my parents are putting all their extra cash towards Grammy’s visit to my Great Auntie’s, so school trips aren’t exactly the priority at the moment.’
‘I should have known that.’
‘Maybe I should have told you.’
‘Maybe I should have given you a chance to tell me.’
She smiled and I felt a massive sense of relief.
‘Sorry I was insensitive and that I tried to tell you what to do,’ I said. ‘I won’t do it again.’
She punched me on the arm. ‘Yes you will! But let’s not fall out over it next time. I’ll just put you in a half nelson until you stop it.’
‘Fine. So we’re back to being nice to each other, right?’
‘That’s right, fish face.’
‘Nicer than that.’
And then she did put me in a half nelson, but it was quite a cuddly one.
We joined the others again and watched some more videos Ethan had made, including one of Cam attempting to jump off a shed and onto a wheelie bin. (The wheelie bin tipped up and he flew backwards into a hedge, but the best part of it was the way he just picked himself up and sauntered away as if nothing had happened.)
Westy wasn’t exactly chatty with me, but half way through the night he said, ‘Do you want a crisp sandwich?’
I think we all know that you don’t make a crisp sandwich for someone you hate, so that cheered me up.
‘Is Dawn not coming?’ I asked Ethan when I’d finished my sandwich.
He shook his head. ‘Nah, she’s doing her own thing.’
I couldn’t help feeling pleased about this. ‘I just wanted to say thanks again for setting me and Megs up – it was sweet of you.’
‘Any time.’ He looked at me, ‘I don’t like seeing you sad.’
It was tempting to mention at this point that if he really wanted to prevent any future sadness on my part then all he has to do is dump Dawn and ask me out. Two simple steps to get me perma-smiling.
‘You and Megan are great together,’ he went on. ‘And Angharad’s just been telling me how sweet you were to her in France. It’s ace the way you look after your friends, Faith. Some girls, I mean, some people don’t actually seem to care about their friends that much and just moan about them behind their backs. I think that if you’re going to be mates you ought to be loyal.’
Oh my. Not only is he gorgeous and clever he is a really decent person.
He dropped the serious face. ‘Of course, you’ve got to beat them up a bit and point out their minor imperfections in a hilarious fashion, just to keep them on their toes . . .’
And he’s funny. I was so full of swoony admiration at this point that I thought I might pop like balloon.
‘. . . But you don’t stab them in the back.’
‘Exactly,’ I agreed. ‘That’s one of the reasons I’ve never liked Icky. She ditches her so-called friends whenever they’re not useful to her.’
‘Uh huh.’
‘Course, the main reason I hate her is because she squinted at me a bit once. When we were toddlers. On a very sunny day. But you can’t expect a hatred of this sort of magnitude to be an entirely reasonable entity.’
He nodded solemnly. ‘It’s a once in a generation occurrence. We must respect your crazy-lady Icky-despising for its awesome depth and duration.’
I’d really missed chatting like this with Ethan. ‘If only Miss Ramsbottom thought like you do. Instead it’s all, “Stop giving the entire canteen an accurate report on which rotting vegetables Vicky smells like, Faith.” And “Take those scissors out of Vicky’s eyeball, Faith.”.’
He laughed and my middle did a loop the loop. ‘She doesn’t appreciate you,’ he said.
‘I know! If she’d j—’
‘I do.’
That shut me up. Actually, it didn’t. Because even though it seemed like he was saying that he appreciated me, I wanted to be absolutely clear, so I said, ‘You do what?’
‘Appreciate you.’
So then it was absolutely clear. He said it in this low voice while looking right into my eyes and I was looking right back at him, and I’d gone all floaty light because he
does
like me. Then I realised that this looking business had been going on rather a long time and, good gravy, it wasn’t going to turn into kissing business was it? But then something terrible happened. Something truly revolting that should never happen to any girl on the possible-maybe verge of a kiss.
I heard my father’s voice.
I don’t mean in the room. He’s been told that if he really has to interrupt me at a social gathering then he has to pretend to be a fireman evacuating the area. (And the face-covering breathing mask I have provided him with must be worn at all times.) Anyway, this hideous voice of my father was actually
in my head
. And it was repeating a bit of that conversation I had with him a few weeks ago, when I asked him if he thought Hypothetical Hannah could be friends with the boy she liked and he said:
Is this girl going to flirt with the boy?
. Oh no. This was terrible. I hadn’t meant to flirt but now, here I was practically puckering up.
I took a step back from Ethan. ‘Er, I, um,’ I gabbled. ‘I’ve got to get something to drink.’
He looked disappointed. Which is good. Because anyone who almost maybe nearly kisses me should be super sad when it doesn’t happen.
Except, I’m quite glad it didn’t happen. I don’t want to kiss someone else’s boyfriend.
What I want is for him to be my boyfriend and then we can snog until out lips fall off.
LATER
Why can’t Ethan work that out for himself?
LATER STILL
Also, I could do without my dad roaming around my brain. Imagine what he might find in there.
TUESDAY 29TH MAY
Granny cooked us dinner tonight. I say ‘cooked’ but actually she just opened a jar of sauce and made Sam boil up a vast quantity of pasta.
‘It’s funny that you’re making all this fuss about redecorating,’ I said, when we all sat down tucking into this extremely bland feast. ‘Because you’re not much of a homemaker are you?’
Granny gave me one of her crocodile smiles. ‘I’ve always found that people who visit my house are very glad they’ve done so.’
I shook my head. ‘I think you’re getting confused, what they’re glad about is leaving.’
‘Faith,’ Dad said. ‘Don’t be so . . . cheeky.’ I’m pretty sure that he almost said ‘honest’.
I pouted. ‘
Don’t be cheeky, don’t flick over-cooked pasta at your brother
, what am I allowed to do?’
‘You could try making polite conversation with your family.’
We all had a good laugh at that one.
LATER
I couldn’t sleep because the sofa is so uncomfortable, so I got up and ate the rest of Granny’s pasta. It wasn’t that bad in the end. All it needed was a bacon sandwich on the side.
LATERER
Although Mum was quite stroppy about the perfectly acceptable late night activity of bacon frying. She thought I was a burglar.
I told her that if robbers get a bacon sandwich while they’re on the job I am definitely adding that to my list of possible careers.
WEDNESDAY 30TH MAY
When I got home from school Sam was slumped at the kitchen table making the place look like a hostel for the unwashed and idiotic.
‘What is it? Has Granny made you wash her tights?’
‘No. She’s out.’ He groaned and clutched at his hair.
‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you,’ I said. ‘If Dad’s anything to go by that mop will start falling out soon. If you give it a helping hand you’ll be bald by the time you’re nineteen.’
‘I can’t do it!’ he moaned.
‘Well, it’s true being both stupid and bald is a bit of handicap, but Dad seems cheerful enough on it.’
He banged his head on the table. ‘My homework, I can’t do my stupid homework.’
I leant over his shoulder. He was supposed to be writing a letter from an evacuee to his parents.
‘You’re going about this all the wrong way, you aubergine,’ I said helpfully. ‘It’s not about how much you write.’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘Next you’ll be telling me you’re making your handwriting really big so that your words take up more space.’
He had the good grace to look embarrassed
‘Listen, don’t waffle. Teachers can spot waffle, besides it just takes up their time to wade through it when really they’d rather be watching dog fights and drinking gin.’
‘So what do you do?
‘Find out what they want from you. Always ask what it is they want to see in your homework. Then you whack that in at the beginning. That way if their attention wanders while they’re marking you’ll still get credit.’
I looked at his homework sheet again. ‘You’re not being marked for your story writing here. What she needs is to see that you’ve actually learnt something about the Second World War and the evacuees. All teachers really want is some proof that you’ve been listening to them dribble on. It’s quite sad really – their constant need for affirmation.’
I was feeling generous so I helped him bang out two paragraphs crammed with everything that he knew about evacuees. Which wasn’t that much. But at least now he’ll get credit for what his tiny brain managed to retain.
Sam grinned his wonky-toothed smile up at me. ‘Thanks, Faith.’
‘I’m not doing it for you. My reputation would be in tatters if anyone found out you don’t know how to outsmart a teacher. Raise your game.’
He nodded hard.
It’s a shame I’ve already decided to dedicate my life to Science (or burglary). I think I’d make an excellent life coach.
THURSDAY 31ST MAY
I’ve been thinking about Ethan. I don’t mean to, but he keeps popping up in my head like some sort of thought ninja. It was nice of him to care about me and Megs making up.