The Parent Problem (10 page)

Then I hear Izzy say, ‘Fat chance. Finn couldn’t get away from
her
fast enough. What d’you reckon, Aubrey?’

At the sound of my best friend’s name, I automatically look up. There is quite an audience encircling me now. The VTs are in the front-row seats of course, their thumbs frantically texting while they giggle and smirk. I am surprised their brains are big enough for such multitasking.

Oh flip. I am never going to get past this crowd. I urge myself to think of a quick come-back, a funny line to distract people from what has just happened.

Nothing.

Turns out I have lost the ability to speak as well as run.

‘Your face!’ squeals Livvy, pointing at me.

As if following a cue, everyone erupts into a chorus of mean cackles and hoots.

I swallow hard. How do the VTs know about the ballroom dancing? How can they do this to me? What have I ever done to them? I can’t bring myself to look at their pinched, sneering crocodile smiles. I finally manage to get up, my skirt firmly held up with one hand. I search out Aubrey, who is standing just behind Izzy. I plead with my eyes that she will come to my rescue. She doesn’t say anything; just shrugs and looks away, her cheeks pink. With what? Surely
she’s
not feeling embarrassed?

Or guilty?

Did
she
tell them about the dancing? No. I can’t believe my best friend would do that when she knows how I feel about Mum going to the classes. What would she get out of telling them that, anyway?

I swipe at my tears with my free hand and am finally about to form some words when the bell goes. At last.

Izzy, Livvy and their groupies give me one last look up and down before bursting out laughing again and turning to go to class.

‘Mind you,’ I hear Izzy say, as they walk away. ‘I wouldn’t want to be seen dead with any of that family. Did you see what Skye’s mum was wearing? Talk about a walking car-boot sale! It’s enough to make you turn GREEN. Hahahaha!’

Aubrey mouths ‘Sorry’ and waits while the toxic twins and their gaggle of gargoyles walk past her. Then she comes up and puts her arm around me.

‘Come on,’ she says. ‘Let’s go to the nurse and get you a safety pin for your skirt. You mustn’t listen to them. They just think they’re being funny.’

‘Yeah. Hilarious.’ Tears are rolling down my face now.

‘You OK?’ she asks softly.

I don’t trust myself to speak. I don’t want the tears to get the better of me. What would I say in any case? I think about challenging Aubrey over how the VTs knew about the ballroom dancing, but she is being so nice to me now and I just want to get out of here. Fast.

Maybe she didn’t tell them.

But if she didn’t, then who?

My eye falls on Finn who is making his way to the Year 9 block.

It was him, I know it.

I will kill him.

‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ I say to Aubrey. ‘Thanks for sticking with me,’ I add with a watery smile.

Aubrey leans into me and gives my arm a squeeze. ‘No worries,’ she says. ‘What are friends for? Besides,’ she adds, ‘now that I’ve saved you from the VTs, you owe me one.’ There is a glint in her eye that I don’t like the look of.

‘I do?’

‘You do . . .’

‘Okaaay,’ I say. ‘So, what do you want from me?’ The answer is already forming in my mind, but I am not going to be the one to say the words. I raise my eyebrows at Aubrey and wait while she clasps her hands together, grins from ear to ear and makes a funny little squeaking voice.

Here we go . . .

‘Pleeeeease can you introduce me to Finn? I can’t speak to him on my own. I
can’t
!’

She certainly should get a prize for not giving up.

I let out a long, slow breath. ‘Maybe,’ I say finally.

Anything to shut her up.

Except it doesn’t.

‘Oooooh! She begins clapping her hands and squealing and jumping up and down, just like Pongo when you hold a doggy treat just out of his reach.

‘I LOVE you, Skye Green!’ she cries, giving me a monster hug.

And, somehow, that makes everything seem OK.

For now.

The minute I have made the sort-of promise to Aubrey I begin to regret it. I already have visions filling my brain of Aubrey and Finn becoming a couple. I am perfectly aware of the saying ‘Three’s a crowd’, and I can just see myself being left out in the cold while they build their little love nest together. (EEUUW!)

I decide I have to make a plan to divert Aubrey from any further thoughts of Finn.

I promise myself that the next time she tries to bring him up in conversation, I shall think of a startlingly interesting thing to say to distract her. I am not going to be tongue-tied again.

So when, after registration, we are scrabbling in our bags for our French books, and Aubrey leans over to whisper to me, I think to myself, I will be ready for this.

‘So, when is Finn next coming to babysit? Because I think it would be better if you introduced me to him at yours rather than at school. So, what I thought was, I could come round and say I had to do my homework with you – which wouldn’t be an entire lie, as we sometimes do that, and who knows, we might be given some homework to do in pairs anyway? And then I could offer to make Finn a cup of tea or something and that way we could get talking and I could maybe tell him The Hogs are looking for a new drummer and then maybe—’

‘A cup of tea?’ I blurt out. ‘A cup of
tea
? Is that what those magazines suggest is the best thing to offer a boy you really like? Are you sure you haven’t been reading
Women’s Institute Monthly
?’

The trouble with plans you make in your head is that they have a habit of not working out so well in reality.

If Aubrey’s eyes could shoot actual daggers at me, that is what they would be doing right now. ‘OK, well if you have any better ideas, you had better let me know. Perhaps I should tuck my skirt into my pants and see if that gets his attention,’ she snaps.

I immediately feel bad, because I don’t know what I would have done without Aubrey there to save me this morning.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘The thing is, Finn isn’t coming round tonight anyway. Mum only goes to one class a week and she’s already been this week. So—’

‘But can I not come round anyway and maybe – I don’t know – you could ask him round to hang out with us while Harris watches TV?’

This is awful. How am I going to get her to shut up about this? I am going to have to change the subject altogether.

‘So, that text you sent me was a bit freaky,’ I say. ‘You know, “Had a great time” – at the dentist’s? Seriously?’

Not very smooth of me I know, but hey, desperate times and all that . . .

Aubrey’s face twists into an unreadable expression. I think she is about to have a go at me for trying to divert her away from talking about Finn when she says, ‘Yeah, well. I was – er – trying to be funny. You know, like – no one likes going to the dentist, right? So I thought, I’ll pretend it was fun. Ha ha.’

‘Oh yeah. I can hardly breathe, I am laughing so much,’ I say.

Aubrey smiles. ‘I know. Must have been the painkillers I had to take after he gave me a filling – messed with my sense of humour or something.’

‘Right.’ I don’t know what she is talking about, but I put it down to my best friend being quirky, which she sometimes is, and I settle down for a lesson of learning how to describe my house in French. As if I will ever have to do that in my entire life. What French person says, ‘Hello. Please describe your house to me’? Unless they are trying to burgle it, in which case I would definitely not go and describe it, would I?

Sometimes I wonder what school is actually for. I would learn a whole lot more at home, reading the books I want to read.

By lunchtime I have managed to divert Aubrey away from talking about Finn a further three times. I have used the ‘Did you see that bonkers programme on telly last night?’ trick; the ‘I HAVE to show you the cute kitten clips I found online the other day’ trick; and the ‘Come to the library with me, I need more books’ trick.

Aubrey has mercifully fallen for all three of them. So at lunchtime we are in the dining hall, munching our pasta and talking about what a nightmare it is when your favourite book is made into a film. (Because, let’s face it, it is
never
going to turn out how you imagined it in your head – I mean, Mr Beaver played by Ray Winstone speaking with a London accent in the film of
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe
? WRONG, plain wrong, I am telling you.)

Things are almost starting to feel like normal between us when, horror of horrors . . . the VTs make a beeline for our table.

‘No!’ I say through gritted teeth. ‘Don’t look now but Dr Frankenstein’s two latest monsters are headed our way.’

‘Who?’ says Aubrey, looking up. ‘Oh, hi!’ She waves.

‘What are you
doing
?’

‘Just being friendly,’ says Aubrey.

‘Right, well I’m off.’ I stand up. I’m not staying to listen to what gems of sarcasm the VTs have been saving up all morning.

‘Don’t go,’ says Aubrey. Although I’m not entirely sure she sounds as though she means it.

‘It’s crumble and custard for dessert,’ I say. I may as well get some as an excuse for leaving the table.

‘Ooh. Get me some,’ says Aubrey, beaming.

‘Yes,’ says Livvy as she approaches. ‘Get us some too, would you, Skye?’ and flashes me a sugary smile. ‘We promise we won’t make any jokes about this morning,’ she adds.

Right, so she’s turning me into her slave as a bribe.

‘’Kay,’ I grunt. ‘Be back in a minute.’

I fix my eyes on the food counters so that I don’t have to make eye contact with the VTs, and join the end of the queue. I am just wondering how I will be able to balance four helpings of crumble and custard on one tray when I hear someone say, ‘Hey.’

I look up and see Finn. Can this day get any worse?

‘Wow. You look in a good mood,’ he says. ‘Are you always so grumpy, or do you just save it for me?’

‘Haven’t you got anyone else to stalk?’ I mutter.

He laughs. ‘Not right now, no.’

I chew the sides of my mouth. What can I say to make him go away? If Aubrey sees me talking to him, she’ll come over and then I’ll have them both round at my house every evening and before I know it they will probably be smooching on the sofa. (HIDEOUS THOUGHT ALERT!)

I have reached the front of the queue and I’m loading my tray with four portions of dessert. Knowing my luck, Finn will say something clever such as, ‘On a cake diet, are we?’

‘So listen,’ he is saying. ‘I’m sorry about what happened this morning. You shouldn’t take any notice of people like the twins. People who post videos of other people’s accidents should be shot if you ask me—’

‘Videos?
What?
’ I whirl round in shock, wanting to find out
exactly
what video he is talking about.

Unfortunately I forget I am holding a tray full of crumble and custard.

‘Watch it!’ Finn shouts.

But it is too late. Four bowls of hot dessert have flipped up in the air. I watch in disbelief as they seem to slow down and then speed up as they fall towards me.

I am soaking. Dripping. Bathed from top to toe in hot, slimy, yellow gunge.

And everyone is laughing at me. For the second time today.

I am sitting in my room. I have barricaded the door so that no one can come in. I am thinking of never coming out ever again. Although that would make the need to eat, wash and have a pee pretty tricky. But I am not going to dwell on that now. I have far too much else to think about.

I thought the school day would never end. I ran out of the hall and headed to the loos after the Custard Incident. All I could think was: I need to hide! Everyone was pointing at me and laughing – some people were even on their feet clapping and whooping. Luckily I had so much custard in my eyes that I couldn’t see that clearly, so I missed the expressions on their faces. I bet a load of them got the whole thing on their phones. I shall probably be having flashbacks for the rest of my life and need to go into therapy.

Mind you, then I could write a book about it. Mrs Ball the librarian says that ‘everything is material’ for a writer, which means that even bad things that happen can be turned into stories.