Playlist for a Broken Heart (11 page)

She should have mentioned the title of the CD
, I thought as Clover quickly extracted herself from Chas’s arms. ‘Ohmygod,’ she said and she grabbed my hand and pulled
me in the direction of the stage. As we passed the area where Niall had been, I noticed that he’d moved and gone back up towards the road and was standing in the queue at a hot-dog stall
chatting to yet another girl.

The man who’d made the announcement was waiting with Tasmin. We weren’t the only ones heading their way. About ten boys were gathering around him.

‘What’s this about?’ asked a chubby dark-haired boy with a sweet face. ‘Are you collecting demos? Our band has a demo.’

The man winked at Tasmin. ‘Over to you kiddo,’ he said.

The boys turned en masse to look at her. I quickly scanned the group, who were all looking eagerly at Tasmin.

‘We’re not collecting demos,’ she explained. ‘We’re looking for a boy who recently made a homemade CD.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked the chubby boy.

‘CD. Home-made. You know, a compilation of favourite tracks sort of thing,’ Tasmin explained.

‘Well we all probably did at some point,’ said a tall blond boy. ‘We’re all musicians. What’s this about?’

‘So you’re not a talent scout?’ another blond boy asked.

‘No,’ said Tasmin and there was a groan of disappointment.

‘We’re looking for the boy who made a CD of local bands called
Songs for Sarah
.’ I added.

‘Why?’ the chubby boy asked Tasmin.

‘My friend’s looking for him,’ she replied. She looked my way and the group turned to me. Of course, I went bright red.

‘What’s this CD got on it? You need to be more specific,’ said chubby boy.

‘It starts with Callum Casey,’ I said. ‘It’s got Painted Asparagus on it and Black Pearl.’

‘Not me,’ said one of the boys and turned away, as did a few others.

‘Did you say
Songs for Sarah
?’ asked the chubby boy. ‘Where did you get it?’

‘In a charity shop,’ I replied.

‘Charity shop? So why do you want to know who made it?’ he asked.

‘She liked it,’ said Tasmin.

‘Is that all?’ he asked.

‘What do you mean is that all?’ said Clover. ‘I think that’s as good a reason as any.’

I felt excruciatingly embarrassed. Everyone was looking at me.

Suddenly a voice from the back of the crowd spoke up and everyone turned to look. It was Callum Casey. ‘I think it’s romantic.’ He smiled at me and I noticed that he had kind
eyes. ‘So, can you tell us a bit more about it.’

‘Well . . .’ I started. ‘It’s got a face on the front. A girl’s face, torn up and placed over a photo.’

‘Not me,’ said another boy in the group and the rest of them began to disperse. I heard one of them grumbling something about Tasmin being a tease.

‘I thought it was someone from a recording company,’ said one as he walked off. ‘It’s just some kid on a wild goose chase.’

‘Sorry,’ I called after them.

‘No, it was a good idea,’ said Tasmin. I wasn’t so sure. I felt embarrassed by the whole scene.

I noticed that Callum and the chubby boy hadn’t left with the others. ‘So you liked this CD?’ asked Callum.

I nodded. ‘Yes. I . . . I just wondered who’d made it, that’s all.’

‘Was it you?’ asked Tasmin.

Callum shook his head. ‘Nah. I’ve made CDs. Course I have. Who doesn’t put together their own collections? But I do it all on computer or straight onto my MP3
player.’

‘I liked your set,’ I said to him.

He smiled again. ‘Thanks.’

‘I’m going back to join Chaz,’ said Clover and headed off back into the crowd as the next band began to play.

‘Me too,’ said Tasmin. She glanced at me then Callum. ‘Coming, Paige?’

‘Unless you fancy a coffee,’ said the chubby boy.

‘Yeah, you go,’ said Tasmin, making up my mind for me. ‘Text me. Laters.’ And she was gone after Clover.

‘I . . . Oh. OK,’ I said. Maybe he could tell me a bit more about the music scene and give me another clue. At the same time, I felt disappointed that it wasn’t Callum who
hadn’t asked me for coffee. He was hanging about too. ‘Want to join us?’ I asked him.

He shook his head. ‘Love to but I’ve got to meet a mate,’ he said and turned to leave. ‘See you around maybe.’

‘So you’re stuck with me,’ said the chubby boy. ‘I’m Sean but my friends called me FB.’

‘FB. For Facebook?’

‘No. FB for fat boy.’

I was shocked. ‘You’re not fat,’ I said.

He grinned. ‘I’m not thin either,’ he said. ‘A mate used to call me fat boy then it got shortened to FB and it stuck.’

‘I’m Paige,’ I said.

‘You’re new to Bath, aren’t you? I noticed you in town one day with Tasmin.’

‘Oh, did you?’ I asked, then hoped that he wasn’t hurt that I hadn’t noticed him. ‘I’m . . . er . . . still finding my way around, getting to know
people.’

‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Takes time.’

‘So you know Tasmin?’

‘By sight,’ he said. ‘Small town.’ He pointed at one of the stalls selling coffee and indicated we should head over there.

We got coffees then sat on a wall, got chatting and he told me that he was in the upper sixth at a school on the other side of Bath and doing similar subjects to me.

‘How you getting on?’ he asked after I’d filled him in a little on why I had moved to Bath. ‘Must be hard having changed halfway through Year Ten. Bet you miss your
mates.’

‘I’m getting used to it. I like my art teacher, Mr Jolliffe,’ I said. ‘He’s really enthusiastic and encouraging.’

FB nodded. ‘Yeah, I know him. He’s cool. He’s a musician too.’

I laughed. ‘Seems that half of Bath are either musicians or artists. My uncle’s a musician too. He works at my school. Mr Davidson.’

‘Oh, right. Yeah I know him too. He’s OK. And yeah, there are loads of musicians. Me too. There must something in the water here. Mr Jolliffe organises the festivals in the park by
the Crescent every year. I’m going to help him with the next one. It’s called Zoom and is a battle of the bands sort of thing. All the local bands play. The next one is in early summer.
We thought we’d have a theme. Make it more interesting, like the Venice carnival, so we were going to ask everyone to wear a mask.’

‘No way!’ I said. ‘I’ve been to the Venice carnival and I’m doing a project on masks. I was doing portraits but it’s evolved.’

‘Really. I did a mask project last year. Sadly the mask idea for the festival got voted out. Shame. I think that everyone in masks could have been interesting.’

‘Me too.’

After that we were off, talking like long-lost friends. He was also interested in the CD and what it meant to me. After I’d I filled him in on all the details, he smiled. ‘I can see
it means a lot to you to find whoever made it,’ he said.

‘I guess it does. I’m not sure why.’

‘Go with your gut,’ he said. ‘Sometimes things defy explanation – and who knows where it will lead? Like already, we’ve met up because of the CD.’

‘What’s your band called?’

‘Undercurrent.’

‘Yes, I think I remember that name. Your track is somewhere towards the end. A sad song.’

‘That’s me,’ said FB and pulled a comical sad face.

I liked him. He was easy to get on with and unlike some boys, he listened as much as he talked. By the end of the afternoon, we’d swapped phone numbers and email addresses and promised to
meet up again. Although I had no more clues about Mystery Boy, I’d found a new friend.

FB was true to his word and didn’t waste any time getting in touch with me. He texted me the following week and suggested that I go over to his house on Wednesday evening
after school.

‘Why does he want to meet at his house?’ asked Tasmin when we met up at lunchtime in the common room. ‘It’s a bit fast, isn’t it?’

‘So we can play
Songs for Sarah
,’ I replied as I spooned coffee granules into two mugs. ‘He said he’d see what he could do to help me find whoever had made
it.

‘I’ll go with you,’ said Tasmin. ‘In case he tries something.’

‘We’re just friends.’

‘Yeah right.’

‘I’ll be fine. I trust him,’ I said.

Tasmin rolled her eyes. ‘Much as I’ve come to like you, dear Paige, I am going to tell you a home truth and that is that you’re naive, especially when it comes to
boys.’

I laughed. She really does speak her mind. ‘How do you know?’

She tapped the side of her nose. ‘I just know.’

‘I’m not that naive. I think I know FB’s type. He’s a sweetie. I’ll be fine really.’

‘I’ll be the judge of that so I’ll be going with you,’ she said. I didn’t mind. It felt nice that she was looking out for me. ‘Do you fancy him?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘It’s not like that. We get on, that’s all.’

‘Hmm. Not sure he’ll see it that way,’ said Tasmin. ‘So tell me, Paige, how many boys have you kissed?’

‘I . . . er . . .’ I felt myself blush. ‘Only one and that wasn’t a boy I liked.’

‘I thought so,’ said Tasmin.

‘To be truthful, I do worry that I won’t be any good at it.’

Tasmin smiled. ‘Don’t worry. When it’s the right boy, you will. It will come naturally. I’m sure you’ll be good at it, but boys . . . well, that’s another
matter.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘There are boys that come on too strong and stick their tongue in your mouth and it’s all too wet and full on.’

‘Yuk.’

‘And those that don’t know what to do at all, and give you a dry, closed-mouthed kiss. That’s not nice either.’

‘Where are they or me supposed to learn? They don’t teach it in schools. I mean, there’s so much I don’t know.’

‘Ask away,’ said Tasmin. ‘You’re talking to the expert.’

I had to laugh. She was completely serious and luckily the common room was empty apart from the two of us. Everyone else was outside soaking up the sun. ‘OK. Do you keep your eyes closed
or open? Do you keep your mouth open and if so, how much? And your tongue? Does it go in-out or in and around?’

This time, it was Tasmin’s turn to laugh but I didn’t feel she was being unkind. I wanted to know, and who better than someone like her who had had boyfriends? My questions certainly
weren’t the kind I could ask my mum.

‘You really haven’t had much experience, have you?’ said Tasmin.

‘No, I haven’t,’ I admitted.

‘First of all, don’t stress it,’ said Tasmin. ‘With the right boy, it will all come naturally and you’ll find you know exactly what to do. It will feel nice –
great, in fact, if it’s right. I’d say eyes closed when you’re kissing. No boy wants to open his eyes to find he’s eyeball to eyeball with you. After a bit of kissing, you
can introduce the tongue, but when it feels right. Keep it light to begin with – tender, gentle – then if it feels good, you can get more passionate and, believe me, your tongue will
know what to do. And sometimes boys like a bit of lip nibbling. That can feel really good. But not too much – it’s not like he’s your supper.’

‘God, I’ll never get it right. It sounds like a science. Gentle, tender. Trust your tongue. Bit of nibbling. Eyes shut. But what if I miss his mouth?’

‘You keep them open until your lips touch, then close them.’

‘Right,’ I said, but I can’t say I felt any more confident after her tuition.

‘Anyway, enough about snogging. Have you had any more ideas about finding your mystery boy?’

‘Actually I have been thinking about it. Instead of trying to find him, how about I try to find Sarah? The girl that Mystery Boy made the CD for? She might be local. She may even go to our
school. If I can find her, I could ask her who made the CD for her. She tells me. Simple.’

Tasmin nodded. ‘Not a bad idea. So what do you suggest?’

‘I could put a notice in the library as a start. I could put a postcard up today saying if you’re the Sarah some boy made a CD for, please contact Paige Lord or Tasmin Davidson in
Year Ten.

‘Better she contacts me than you as a lot of people still won’t know who you are,’ said Tasmin. ‘Just put my name and maybe Clover’s. Everyone knows who she is
too.’

‘Good point. And if that doesn’t work, I could go to the school office and ask the secretary for a list of all the pupils here. She could be in any year.’

‘OK, and if she’s not at this school, what then?’ asked Tasmin.

‘I will rethink the plan. As you keep telling me, Bath’s a small place.’

When it got to Wednesday, FB came to meet me at the school gates. He didn’t seem so happy about Tasmin coming along and was quiet when we caught the bus to his house. His
silence didn’t last long and as soon as we got to his terraced house, he took us up to his room and pulled out all the books he had on masks. His room was a bit like Tasmin’s in that
every surface was cluttered, in his case with books, magazines, DVDs, computer games and CDs. The walls were plastered with posters of various bands, one of The Smiths in prime position, and one
wall was covered ceiling to floor with amazing masks. I was about to ask if he’d made them when he thrust a book into my hand.

‘Take a look at that while I find something,’ he said.

I sat on his bed and started to look through the book he’d given me. It had great examples of African masks, many I hadn’t seen before. Tasmin sat next to me and did her best to look
interested but I could tell immediately that it wasn’t her thing. FB went over to his computer. ‘I’ve been dying to show you all these since I met you, Paige,’ he said as he
punched a few keys to open a file. ‘I’ve got loads of images on here.’

‘I don’t think we want to see the images you have hidden on your computer,’ said Tasmin. ‘Not if they’re like the ones most teenage boys look at.’ She
laughed. FB didn’t.

Tasmin lasted about fifteen minutes. I could tell by her left foot that she was bored out her mind because as FB and I looked through the pages of masks, her foot started twitching, up and down,
up and down as if she was already walking out of there.

She soon was.

‘I’ll see you at home later, hey? Text me when you’re on your way,’ she said as she got up and made for the door.

I had to laugh. When did you turn into my mother? I wanted to ask but I bit back the words.