Mates, Dates and Cosmic Kisses

by Cathy Hopkins

‘Gladly, miss.’

  By now poor Miss Hartley was looking as though she wished she could be anywhere else but that classroom.

  ‘Gladly,’ she said wearily. ‘Who was he?’

  ‘Gladly the cross-eyed bear, miss.’

  The whole class fell about laughing as we all know Gladly well, but being new to the school, Miss Hartley didn’t get the joke.

  Candice put her hand up. ‘It’s one of the ancient hymns we sing in assembly, miss. It starts, “Gladly the cross I bear”.’

  Miss Hartley still didn’t laugh. The bell for break went a moment later and she was out of the class and down the corridor before any of us.

  At lunch-time, I checked my mobile. No messages, so I called home and punched in the code numbers to check the answering machine. Nothing. Then an awful thought struck me. Mum got me a new mobile a month ago and I made the cards two months ago. Oh no. The mobile number on the card I gave Mark was the old one.

  ‘He won’t call in the day,’ said Lucy. ‘He’ll be at school.’

  ‘You’re right, though he might have a mobile,’ I sighed. ‘But he’ll probably call tonight.’

  ‘But tonight you’re coming back to our house with Nesta, aren’t you? Mum and Dad are going to a movie and we’re going to watch a DVD.’

  ‘Sorry, Lucy, I don’t want to miss the call.’

  Lucy looked disappointed. ‘You haven’t been back one night this week. Oh, come on, Izzie, the machine will keep any messages.’

  I thought Lucy of all people would understand, being so in love with Tony. But she didn’t.

  Boy Speak

  Call you later:

  Sometime in the next century

  Commitment:

  A word only applied to a football team

  I need space:

  For all my other girlfriends

  Let’s just see how it goes:

  Back off, I’m feeling pressured

  Would you like a back rub?:

  I want to try my luck

  Isn’t it warm in here?:

  Take your clothes off

  Hi. Your friend looks nice:

  I fancy her and am using you to get to her

  Don’t get heavy:

  I don’t feel the same way about you

  She’s ugly/a lesbian:

  She didn’t fancy me

  I’m not ready for a relationship:

  Not with you, anyway

  I’m very independent:

  I like to do things my own way, on my own terms

  We can still be friends:

  It’s over and this is probably the last time you’ll ever see me.

  Chapter 4

  Consulting the Stars

  Wednesday night: no call.

  Thursday lunch-time: no call.

  Thursday night: no call.

  Friday morning: no call.

  I’m going out of my mind. Perhaps he lost my number? Perhaps he put the card in his jeans and his mum washed them and it got soaked? Perhaps he didn’t mean to call at all and saying he would was a way of getting rid of me? Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

  It’s time to consult the oracles.

  I sent Lucy a note in English.

  Will you come back to my house tonight? I want to look at my horoscope and do the tarot cards to see what they have to say about Mark. I know Nesta’s busy with drama but can you come?

  Sure, Lucy wrote back. But it’s my turn to feed the dogs. We can do it on the way. I won’t be long.

  ‘Izzie Foster, Lucy Lovering, pay attention,’ said Mr Johnson, ‘and get out your folders. Today I want you to write something about school. How you feel about it. It can be in any form you like: an essay, a poem, whatever. You’ve got twenty minutes. And no talking.’

  I spent the first ten minutes gazing out of the window, hoping for inspiration, but all I could think about was Mark. I was trying to picture what he looked like, as already his face had gone blurry in my mind. Maybe he wasn’t as good-looking as I remembered. Maybe I’d see him again and it would be like, Yuk, what did I ever see in you? I wondered what he’s really like. What kind of music he’s into.

  ‘Izzie Foster, have you written anything yet?’ asked Mr Johnson.

  ‘Er, no, sir.’

  I looked at the blank sheet in front of me and put my mind to the exercise in hand. An essay about school. How boring. Then I remembered, he’d said it could be any form at all. I want to be a songwriter when I leave school – well, either that or an astrologer, and maybe both. I’ve written loads of songs at home so I decided I’d do one here. I put my head down and started writing.

  After another ten minutes, Mr Johnson clapped his hands.

  ‘OK, time’s up. And seeing as it took you so long to get going, Izzie, let’s hear what you’ve come up with.’

  Oh NO. NO. I never show anyone my lyrics. Ever. They’re completely private. He never said we had to read them out loud.

  ‘We’re waiting,’ said Mr Johnson, tapping his fingers on his desk.

  I stood up. ‘It’s a rap song. Called “Education Rap”,’ I said, then began reading:

  ‘Now I’m walkin’ down the street with my feet on the beat, An’ I look real cool cos I ain’t no fool, I go to school . . .’

  Immediately Mary O’Connor and Joanne Richards started sniggering. I felt myself freeze and stopped reading immediately.

  ‘Er, that’s all I’ve written, sir,’ I muttered to the floor. It wasn’t. I’d written a whole verse but I didn’t want to read more if people were going to laugh at me.

  I looked up at Mr Johnson. He seemed to be laughing as well. ‘Hmmm, an interesting start,’ he said.

  I sat down feeling miserable. Never again. Never ever ever again. No one’s ever going to see my lyrics, not if they’re going to make fun.

  ‘I thought your song was great,’ said Lucy as we let ourselves in the back door at her house.

  ‘Thanks,’ I said as one of the dogs pounced forward to lick my face, almost knocking me over. ‘Down, Ben, down.’

  ‘I won’t be long,’ said Lucy as she took off her coat and started rummaging in a cupboard for tins of dog food. ‘Put the kettle on.’

  ‘But we’re not staying long, are we? Got to get home, remember?’

  ‘Oh right,’ said Lucy. ‘Mark.’

  ‘Yeah. Mark,’ I said. I was getting seriously concerned by now. It was Friday night and the fair was Saturday and Mark still hadn’t phoned. ‘Who’s playing the guitar?’

  Music was coming from the living-room so I followed the direction of the sounds and found Lucy’s brother Lal lying on the sofa listening to a CD.

  ‘Who’s this?’ I asked.

  ‘King Noz,’ said Lal.

  ‘Oh yeah, Lucy mentioned them, they’re playing at our end-of-term disco.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Lal. ‘They go to our school. Top band.’

  ‘Can I listen?’

  ‘Sure.’

  A boy was singing with an acoustic guitar and piano accompaniment. I sat back on the sofa, closed my eyes and listened to the lyrics.

  ‘If you were a wheel

  I’d follow your highway.

  If you were a raindrop

  I wish you’d fall my way.

  If you were a gypsy

  I’d give a fortune to tell

  That whenever I’m with you

  I see heaven, not hell . . .’

  ‘Wow,’ I said when he’d finished. ‘He’s really good. I really like it.’

  ‘Not all of it is quiet like that,’ said Lal. ‘I prefer the heavier numbers.’

  ‘Ready,’ called Lucy.

  ‘Got to go,’ I said, getting up. The stars were calling.

  When we got back home, I checked the machine for messages. Nothing. Nothing.

  ‘Never mind,’ said Lucy. ‘I have a surprise for you.’

  We went up to my bedroom and she handed me an envelope.

  ‘What is it?’ I asked.

  ‘Look and see.’

  I ri
pped open the envelope and there were three tickets to the Mind, Body and Spirit fair the next day.

  ‘Fabola!’ I said. ‘Where did you get these?’

  ‘Dad,’ said Lucy. ‘He has a stall there selling his health foods. He gave them to us so we can all get in for free. So even if Mark doesn’t phone tonight, we can go anyway, check out where his mum’s stall is, then accidentally-on-purpose bump into him.’

  I gave Lucy a huge hug. So she did understand how much it meant to me after all. ‘Excellent. Lucy, you really are a pal.’

  Lucy beamed. ‘Well, come on, let’s see what our horoscopes are. I’m dying to know, as I’m seeing Tony tomorrow night and want to know if it’s going to go well.’

  I switched on my computer and went to my favourite website. I typed in my and Lucy’s birth dates and waited for the horoscopes to print out.

  ‘Where are you going with him?’ I asked.

  ‘Hollywood Bowl,’ Lucy replied. ‘We’re going to see a movie then going to get a burger or something after.’

  ‘You really like him, don’t you?’ I asked.

  Lucy grinned. ‘Oh yeah, oh yeah.’

  ‘But you’ll be careful, won’t you? Nesta’s not the only one worried that he might hurt you.’

  ‘Gimme a break,’ said Lucy. ‘I know what he’s like. Nesta’s told me enough times.’

  I picked up the sheets of paper from the printer and began to read.

  ‘What does it say?’ asked Lucy.

  ‘This is amazing,’ I said. ‘This explains everything. It says that Mercury has been retrograde but moves direct on the sixth of December. That’s tomorrow.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ asked Lucy.

  ‘Well Mercury’s the planet of communication. Whenever it turns retrograde, it slows down all kinds of things. Misunderstandings happen, appointments get double-booked, you can’t get through to people you need to talk to, all that kind of stuff. Then when it turns direct, it all starts flowing again. So don’t you see? That’s why Mark didn’t phone. Because Mercury was retrograde.’

  ‘Do you really think the stars influence us that much?’ asked Lucy doubtfully.

  ‘Oh absolutely,’ I said, reading on. ‘Oh this is fantastic, for both of us. Venus is well aspected tomorrow with a full Moon in Taurus . . .’

  ‘Izzie,’ said Lucy, ‘you’re talking gobbledygook to me. Explain.’

  ‘Venus is the planet of love. It rules the star sign of Taurus. It couldn’t be better placed tomorrow. It looks like we’re both in for a good time. Top. I can’t wait. I’m going to mark all the dates on my diary when the stars are well aspected. I don’t know why I’ve put myself through such hell this week. I should have consulted the site in the beginning then I wouldn’t have been through such misery.’

  Lucy was still looking doubtful. ‘I’m sure there’s more to it than that,’ she said.

  ‘Nonsense,’ I said, feeling better than I had for days. ‘Astrology rules, OK?’

  ‘Oh,’ laughed Lucy. ‘OK.’

  At that moment, the bedroom door opened.

  ‘Supper’s on the table,’ said Mum. ‘Would you like some, Lucy?’

  ‘Oh, yes please,’ said Lucy. ‘I’d love some.’

  ‘Can we have ours up here?’ I asked. ‘Please, Mum?’

  ‘OK,’ said Mum. ‘Seeing as Lucy’s here. I’ll bring a tray up. But be sure to eat at the desk and not off your laps.’

  When she’d gone, I got up and shut the door. ‘Honestly, it drives me mad. She won’t let me have a lock on my door. She doesn’t even knock. I have no privacy. She’s always bursting in when I’m doing things. Nesta’s allowed a lock on her door. Why shouldn’t I be?’

  ‘I know,’ Lucy said. ‘I’ve asked for a lock on my door too but Mum and Dad said no way. What if something happened to me? Durrh, like what exactly? Sometimes parents have overactive imaginations.’

  Mum came back a few minutes later carrying a tray with two plates of shepherd’s pie. ‘There you are, Izzie, your favourite.’

  I pulled a face. ‘Mum, you know I don’t eat meat any more.’

  Mum put the tray down. ‘Oh for heaven’s sake, Isobel. I can’t keep up.’ She turned on Lucy. ‘And have you stopped eating meat as well, Lucy?’

  ‘Er, no,’ said Lucy, taking the plate. ‘I love shepherd’s pie, thank you very much, Mrs Foster.’

  Mum turned to leave. ‘Well, see if you can talk some sense into Little Miss Contrary here. Because, Izzie, I’ve had enough. I made it specially. So if you don’t eat that, you don’t eat anything.’

  Lucy pulled a silly face when she’d gone. ‘Little Miss Contrary. Don’t worry, I’ll eat yours.’

  ‘I’ll eat the potato and vegetables. And you can have the meat. I don’t know why she won’t give me a break. Honestly. It’s not like I’m being difficult or anything. I just believe you are what you eat.’

  ‘Mooo,’ giggled Lucy through a mouthful of minced beef.

  ‘God you’re daft at times,’ I said, but I couldn’t help laughing. ‘Now let’s plan what we’re going to wear for the fair.’

  Education Rap

  by lzzie Foster

  Now I’m walking down the street with my feet on the beat,

  An’ I look real cool cos I ain’t no fool, I go to school.

  Don’t wanna be a loser, a street corner boozer, a bum for rum or a no-hope dope,

  Now I’m really going places, I’m holdin’ all aces,

  I got smart cos I know in my heart I got a real good start,

  I’m ahead of the pack, no lookin’ back, I’m goin’ up don’t need no luck,

  Cos I ain’t no fool, I go to school.

  Chapter 5

  Ready for Action

  I woke up feeling like it was Christmas day already. I felt so excited – today was the big day. But first I needed breakfast. I was ravenous after not having had much dinner the night before. Sometimes it’s hard being healthy as there’s one thing I do like and that’s my food. I’d been dreaming of it all night – deep pan pizza with pepperoni topping, roast chicken, and stodgy treacle pudding. Lovely.

  I went down to the kitchen and searched the cupboards to see what I could find that was nutritious. Before I knew it, I’d wolfed down three slices of white toast with mashed banana. At least the banana bit was healthy. I’d have to buy some wholemeal bread at the fair. And maybe Mum’d get the message if I brought some back and left it for her in the bread-bin. In the meantime, I’d have to compromise. Another piece of toast. With maybe a dollop of that lovely chocolate spread on it.

  After breakfast, I took a long bath with my special bubble bath for relaxation, then went to change into the clothes that Lucy and I had picked out last night – my zip-up black top, black micro mini, red tights and a red cloche hat. With bright scarlet lips as the final touch, I thought the whole effect looked pretty cool.

  I hope my bum doesn’t look too big in this skirt, I thought as I put on my ankle boots. I took a last check in the mirror and thankfully the boots made my legs look a bit longer so I guessed I’d have to do.

  I grabbed my leather jacket and was ready. Get ready, Mark, because here I come!

  ‘I’m off to Ally Pally,’ I called to Mum as I came down the stairs.

  ‘OK, love, have a good time,’ she said, coming out into the hall. ‘Have you got enough money?’

  ‘Yes, thanks. I’ve got my Christmas savings.’

  And then she saw me and her face dropped.

  ‘Where do you think you’re going dressed like that?’

  ‘I told you. Ally Pally.’ I prayed she wasn’t going to make a fuss. I was meeting Lucy and Nesta outside the Woolworths in Muswell Hill at ten thirty.

  ‘Back up those stairs this instant.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘You’re not going anywhere in that skirt. You’re showing everything you’ve got.’

  ‘But Mum . . .’

  ‘Now, Izzie. And wipe that lipstick off. It’s far too bright for som
eone your age. And put some warmer tights on, those are too thin for this weather.’

  I sighed and turned back upstairs. I took off the tights and mini-skirt and put on my usual long black skirt. She couldn’t object to that, it comes right down to the floor. But before leaving, I stuffed the mini-skirt and red tights into a carrier bag and shoved them in my bag.

  ‘OK now?’ I said to Mum as I went back downstairs.

  ‘Much better,’ Mum smiled. ‘Have a nice time.’

  When we got up to Alexandra Palace we stood and admired the view for a moment. It was a rare clear day and you could see for miles over London, right out to Docklands.

  ‘This place is really cool,’ said Nesta as we walked up the steps and into the vast reception hall. It was a huge conservatory with a glass ceiling and the most enormous palm plants I’d ever seen. In the middle of the hall there was a choir singing Christmas carols.

  Lucy and Nesta listened to the choir while I went into the ladies’, put my micro skirt and tights on and reapplied my lipstick.

  ‘Wow,’ said Nesta when I went out to join her and Lucy. ‘You look hot.’

  I grinned. ‘Ready for action.’

  ‘Ready for action!’ echoed the girls.

  The main hall was heaving with people. First stop was Mr L’s stall to thank him for the tickets. Mr L is our nickname for Lucy’s dad; he doesn’t seem to mind.

  ‘Hi, Izzie,’ he said. ‘You’re looking . . . striking.’

  ‘Thanks, Mr L. And thanks for the tickets.’

  ‘Pleasure,’ he said. ‘And how’s the guitar playing coming along?’

  ‘Good,’ I said. ‘I’ve been practising hard.’

  Lucy’s dad looks like an old hippie with his ponytail. He used to be in a band back in the Seventies and still plays a bit at some jazz club in Crouch End but he also gives people lessons. I go every other week and he’s really helped me improve.

  ‘Lucy tells me that you’ve opted to follow a more healthy diet,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah.’