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Blood Moon

Page 18

by Lucy Cuthew

Benjamin looks at me

  with his dimpled grin,

  only this time,

  there’s more in there.

  There’s care,

  and something that

  feels like

  being seen.

  There’s a crackle

  between us.

  And I say, honestly,

  “I like your face.”

  He laughs and says,

  “I like yours too.”

  “Do you want to

  see the moon?

  It’s setting soon.”

  “Definitely,” he says.

  “Will it be totally cosmic?”

  I giggle.

  “Shh! Don’t wake Harriet.”

  We shuffle

  to the telescope,

  and I adjust it to face

  the full moon,

  drifting down

  towards the horizon.

  Benjamin breathes in,

  sharply, as he takes it in,

  because that’s what

  happens when you

  see something

  awe-inspiring.

  When he’s seen

  and seen

  and seen

  he turns to me

  his eyes shining.

  “What do you think?”

  I ask him

  and he says,

  “Beautiful,”

  in a way

  that makes me think

  he’s

  maybe

  talking about me.

  “Um … Frankie?”

  he says, a bit shyly.

  “Do you think

  you’d maybe want to,

  like,

  go out with me?”

  “Hmm,” I say,

  pretending to think.

  “Maybe. Let’s see.”

  OUR UNIVERSE

  As dawn is breaking,

  Benjamin leaves.

  “I’ve got rugby training

  before school,”

  he says.

  “So, now?” I say,

  looking at the time

  as he climbs down

  the ladder.

  He waves, and grins,

  then walks across the grass.

  I turn around to lie back down

  and Harriet is wide awake,

  her face right in mine,

  doing a massive

  stupid

  comedy

  grin.

  “HARRIET!” I shriek.

  “Have you been awake

  this whole time?”

  “YES,” she says.

  “And I heard

  everything.

  ‘I like your face.’”

  I pick up my pillow

  and whack her with it.

  “Why didn’t

  you say you were

  bloody awake?”

  “Because,” she says,

  winking at me, “I know

  when a girl needs space.

  Although, my God,

  the noises …

  so sloppy…”

  I put my hands to

  my red cheeks.

  “I’m so embarrassed!”

  “Oh, don’t be.” She grins.

  “You two are very cute.”

  “Ugh,” I groan.

  “I can’t believe you.

  You’re so sneaky!”

  “I know!” she says proudly,

  picking up her phone.

  “Anyway. I practically squealed

  when I heard what he said.

  I thought he was

  never going to leave.”

  She thrusts her phone

  in front of me.

  “We’ve got loads of

  new followers!”

  “Amazing!”

  “And look…

  We’ve got a message

  from Vidhi!

  The planetarium want

  you and me to write a blog

  for their website about

  taking home-astronomy

  photographs!”

  “That’s so cool!” I say.

  “And Vidhi says

  you should check

  your personal email,”

  Harriet adds,

  nudging me.

  I open my email

  and with trembling fingers

  find the one from Vidhi.

  I go quiet while I’m reading

  and I can hear Harriet breathing,

  waiting.

  Vidhi says they’re sorry

  they suspended me.

  That it wasn’t fair

  and that Elaine hopes

  I’ll come back ASAP.

  Then I read the end of her email

  and I don’t know whether

  I’m going to laugh

  or cry

  or scream.

  I look at Harriet,

  who is watching me,

  bursting.

  “She’s read my application.

  She says it’s amazing.

  I have an interview next week!”

  “Of course you do!”

  Harriet screams.

  “Oh, I absolutely

  knew you would!”

  And although she’s still

  in her sleeping bag,

  she dives at me,

  crashing into me,

  pinning me

  to the warming boards

  of the tree house floor,

  hugging me.

  Then she moves

  away from me,

  her freckled nose wrinkling.

  “You smell of boy.”

  “I do not,” I say.

  “Well, you smell

  of something.

  How was the kissing?”

  I can’t help smiling.

  “It was amazing.”

  “At least he brought these,”

  she says, opening

  the bag of pastries

  and helping herself.

  “He’s all right with me.”

  Harriet smiles at me across

  a fresh dawn sunbeam

  and in that moment,

  I see my funny,

  lovely

  best friend

  in all her freckled beauty.

  It is a moment

  overflowing with

  possibility.

  And right now,

  right here,

  with the chorus of dawn

  in our sycamore tree,

  that possibility is

  simply

  Harriet and me.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Thanks first to my passionate, meticulous editors Denise Johnstone-Burt, Megan Middleton and Susan Van Metre – it has been such a pleasure to work with you on this book; to Grainne Clear for her sharp editorial eye, Georgie Hookings for making an art form out of copy-editing, Anna Robinette for the beautiful type-setting and Jenny Bish for proofreading. Thank you to Maria Soler Canton and Laurissa Jones for the gorgeously menstrual cover, and to the wider team at Walker Books for championing this book as it goes out into the world.

  To my fabulous agent, Rachel Mann, thank you for your unflinching faith in Blood Moon from the moment we met – I am so lucky to work with you; and thank you to Jo Unwin and the whole team at JULA for such a warm welcome.

  Jo Nadin, you brilliant woman, thank you for being an extraordinary tutor. Without you this book literally wouldn’t exist. You put unapologetically high expectations on me, and taught me to be bold, brave and better. I’ll never forget that. Heartfelt thanks to Steve Voake, C.J. Skuse, Lucy Christopher, Janine Amos, Julia Green, David Almond and all my classmates on the MA in Writing for Young People at Bath Spa.

  Thanks to my friends, particularly my writer friends Emma Levey, Angharad James, Susanna Bailey and Yasmin Rahman, who read this as it grew and told me kindly what to keep and what to delete; and most particularly to Hana Tooke, Wibke Brueggemann and Rachel Huxley – you know what you d
id.

  I am indebted to Caitlin Williams and her friends for letting me into their teenage world; to Caroline Ambrose and the junior judges at the Bath Children’s Novel Award for their passionate responses to the book; to Briony Goffin and Amanda Rackstraw for being brilliant teachers; to Katherine Judge for being an unofficial mentor, champion and dear friend; and to Sarah Crossan, Louise O’Neill, Jason Reynolds and E. Lockhart for writing the kinds of YA books that made me want to write them too.

  I owe a debt to Jon Ronson for his book So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed, and to Brené Brown whose insightful work on shame informed the emotional core of this story. I also owe this book to the work of so many amazing feminists, from writers, teachers and activists, to friends, family and colleagues.

  Thanks finally to my family: to Mum for talking to me about feminism from the start; to Dad who is funnier than Frankie’s dad without even trying; to my sisters for being warm, witty and incredibly smutty; to the Crawford family for being so loving and supportive; and to my children for their endless appetite for stories. The biggest thanks to my husband, Will, for always believing I could do this. Listen carefully, I shall say this only once: you were right.

  BLOOD MOON is Lucy Cuthew’s debut novel. It is inspired by her experience of having endometriosis, which still takes an average of eight years to diagnose, despite affecting 1 in 10 women. Lucy hopes to encourage conversations about menstruation and to break down the outdated taboo around periods. The novel brings together her research on shame and the way men and women are treated differently online with her love of verse.

  Lucy is a graduate of the Bath Spa MA in Writing for Young People, where she wrote Blood Moon. The novel was shortlisted for the Bath Children’s Novel Award. She is the author of more than thirty books for younger children. She regularly speaks on the BBC about children’s books and current affairs, and she runs creative writing workshops in secondary schools.

  Lucy lives in Cardiff and is currently writing her second verse novel about the effects of porn on young people. When she is not writing, she enjoys listening to science podcasts and sharing Frankie and Harriet’s love of croissants.

  Enjoyed BLOOD MOON?

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. All statements, activities, stunts, descriptions, information and material of any other kind contained herein are included for entertainment purposes only and should not be relied on for accuracy or replicated as they may result in injury.

  First published 2020 by Walker Books Ltd

  87 Vauxhall Walk, London SE11 5HJ

  Text © 2020 Lucy Cuthew

  The right of Lucy Cuthew to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, taping and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data:

  a catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  ISBN 978-1-4063-9578-5 (epub)

  www.walker.co.uk

 

 

 


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