Mates, Dates and Diamond Destiny

by Cathy Hopkins

  ‘Another pound.’

  ‘Why? I didn’t say boy then.’

  ‘You said William,’ said Tony. ‘That’s a boy’s name.’

  ‘Now that’s being stupid,’ I said. ‘I’ve got to be able to say people’s names. I don’t know what’s the matter with you today.’

  Tony looked shocked. ‘Me? You’ve been in a weird mood all morning. You’ve argued with every single thing I’ve said.’ Suddenly he slapped his forehead. ‘Oh . . . I know. Should have guessed. Have you got your period?’

  A wave of fury went through me and this time I really was ready to sock him. I hate boys who assume that just because you’re a bit off with them that it’s because it’s that time of the month. Even if it’s true.

  At that moment, William appeared at our table, smiled a hundred watt smile and held out his tin.

  ‘Collecting for the . . .’ And then he finally noticed me. He narrowed his eyes in a manner not unlike the way that Tony had for Lucy only five minutes ago, only when William did it, it made me want to slide to the floor, wrap myself around his ankles and say, ‘Take me, I’m yours.’ He said, ‘We’ve met before, haven’t we?’

  I was about to be all cool and say that I didn’t remember when Izzie piped up.

  ‘End of autumn term show last year,’ she said. ‘The mayor’s project about London.’

  William turned to TJ. ‘Yeah course, you were on the history team with my sister Olivia and my mate Luke.’

  ‘Umf, niwih,’ said TJ. Poor TJ. She was looking at the floor as though she wished it would swallow her up. She never said much about the Luke affair once it was over but I got the feeling that it affected her more than she let on. Izzie told me that she genuinely thought that Luke was her soul mate and that up until she’d met him, she thought soul mates were a load of rubbish. She needed rescuing from William’s spotlight gaze.

  ‘Yes, how is Luke?’ I asked tossing my hair back and almost hitting Izzie in the eye. (That’s another thing that happens when I have a period. I get clumsy and my co-ordination goes to pieces.)

  ‘Good. Great. Shall I tell him you asked after him?’

  ‘As if,’ I said with as much disdain as I could muster. I hadn’t meant to ask after Luke. It had slipped out before I could help it, when I saw TJ looking uncomfortable.

  ‘What’s your name again?’ asked William.

  Unbelievable, I thought. He hasn’t even remembered my name and to think that I spent two nights having major snogging fantasies featuring him when I was falling asleep.

  ‘Eleanor,’ I said.

  William looked puzzled. And so did Tony, Izzie, Lucy and TJ.

  ‘Eleanor? Hmm. Strange I didn’t remember that as Eleanor’s my sister’s name as well. OK. So Eleanor . . . I’ll tell Luke that I saw you, but that you made it clear that you weren’t asking after him.’ His tone of voice suggested that he was laughing at me in some way.

  ‘Your sister’s not called Eleanor,’ I said.

  ‘Er . . . my sister. I ought to know.’

  ‘Ah, but you just said you remembered TJ from the project she did with your sister Olivia. You can’t catch me out.’

  William looked at me as if I was really dim. ‘Duh. I wasn’t trying to catch you out. Why would I want to do that? It is possible to have two sisters, you know. Sometimes people even have three! Olivia’s my younger sister. Eleanor, my older.’

  I felt a complete idiot. Of course it was possible that he had more than one sister. ‘OK,’ I said. ‘No need to be sarcastic, William . . . oh . . . or whatever your name is . . . I don’t really remember . . .’

  ‘It is William,’ he said as he smiled his hundred watt smile again. ‘How nice that you remembered.’

  Oh God. Now I look so uncool. I’d let him know that I’d remembered his name when he’d forgotten mine. And I’d asked after ratfink Luke! Why? Why? Why? Now it sounds like I’m still interested in him. I’m acting like I’m brain-dead. And I think I may be going to blush which is something I don’t do! Oh why did I say my name was Eleanor? What is wrong with me?

  And then the worst possible thing that could ever happen, happened. Mary O’Connor, one of our classmates, walked past on her way to the Ladies.

  ‘Hi guys,’ she said, coming over to our table. Then she turned to me. ‘Hey, Nesta, remind me on Monday. You left your passionfruit and mango body lotion in the showers after gym yesterday. I put it in my locker for you.’

  ‘Oh um, thanks, Mary.’ I glanced up at William who looked highly amused; in fact, he looked like he was going to burst out laughing.

  ‘Nesta. Nesta! That’s it. Now I remember. So, have you changed your name or something or is Eleanor like a nickname?’

  ‘Eleanor?’ asked Mary. ‘Who’s Eleanor?’

  Now I knew I was definitely blushing. No doubt about it.

  ‘I . . . I . . .’ Stupid, stupid me. Why had I lied about my name? It always backfires on me when I lie. Stupid, stupid.

  Lucy and Izzie both spoke up at the same time.

  ‘Nesta is her second name,’ said Lucy.

  ‘Eleanor is her stage name,’ said Izzie.

  ‘Right,’ said William. ‘Second name. Stage name. So what should I call you?’

  I’d had enough of feeling like a prize idiot. I got up and stood directly in front of him. Nice eyes, I couldn’t help but notice. Brown with thick black lashes. But still with a look of high amusement that was very annoying.

  ‘You can call me . . . sir,’ I said and turned back to the others. ‘And now I’m going to the Ladies.’

  ‘Shouldn’t that be the Gents, if you’re a sir?’ said William with a smirk as he began to move on.

  ‘Thank God he’s cleared off,’ I said turning back to my mates as he went to the next table. ‘Some boys are just so full of themselves . . .’

  ‘Pound,’ said Tony.

  I didn’t care any more. ‘Boys, boys, boys. A trillion times. I’ve said it. So there. What are you going to do? Sue me?’

  Izzie chuckled and looked after William who turned and gave me a quick glance up and down. ‘Me thinks a leetle spark of fancying going on there,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah,’ said TJ. ‘Eeelectricity. You like him, don’t you?’

  ‘No way. I do not,’ I said. ‘I did when we met last year but not now. I can tell exactly what type he is. He’s the kind that thinks he’s God’s gift.’

  Lucy nodded. ‘She definitely likes him.’

  ‘Eeewww!’ I said. ‘As if.’

  What’s the difference between a girl with PMS and a rottweiler?

  Lip-gloss.

  ‘I’m so short,’ groaned Lucy as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror in the Ladies at the back of Costa. ‘I hate standing next to you guys in the mirror as then I see how tiny I really am.’

  ‘Small but perfectly formed, oh little one,’ said Izzie. ‘Unlike me. I’m so freaking enorm–?’ She was about to go on but Lucy reached up and clamped her hand over her mouth. We’d all told Izzie in no uncertain terms that if she went on about being fat that we would have to kill her. Izzie isn’t fat. She’s got a great figure. Curvy. But like so many people, she wants to be a stick insect.

  ‘And I’m so ugly,’ said TJ as she wet the front of her hair from one of the taps and tried to flatten it down. ‘My hair is crazy today. I look as pale as a potato and I’ve got a spot on the end of the nose. No boy is going to look at me ever again.’

  They’re bonkers, because all of them are very pretty in different ways. Lucy is blonde with blue eyes and although she is small, like Kylie, she’s in proportion. She’s been looking great lately and is letting her hair grow after having it short and spiky for ages. Now it’s down to her shoulders again and looks really good. Izzie’s hair is also to her shoulders but is chestnut and cut in layers. When the light catches it, it has the most amazing glossy conker shine. She also has beautiful eyes. Green and dreamy. She says she got them from her Irish ancestors. (I say in that case, she ought to give them back t
o them as they might be missing them.) And TJ is a total babe even though she seems oblivious to the fact. Her best feature is her mouth, wide and full plus she has lovely brown eyes and fabulous long, dark hair halfway down her back, which she often wears in a plait (unless we’re out pulling boys when she leaves it loose).

  I gazed at myself in contrast to them. Coffee-coloured skin because my mum is Jamaican and my dad Italian, long black hair, brown eyes. My mates tell me that I’m the best-looking girl in the school, which is very sweet of them, and I guess I can make myself look halfway decent when I try as long as I don’t open my mouth. Last October, I had to have a brace put in and although I try my best to be positive about it, I can’t wait until it comes out and I can smile properly at people again without looking like Hannibal Lecter with that wired contraption over his jaw in Silence of the Lambs.

  I applied my lip-gloss. ‘I am gorgeous. I am gorgeous. I am gorgeous,’ I said to my reflection.

  The others burst out laughing.

  ‘And sooooo modest,’ said Izzie.

  ‘No. Nothing to do with being modest. How many times do I have to tell you? It’s to do with confidence. It’s the first thing they teach at model school. Learn to love yourself. Walk tall . . .’

  ‘Yeah right,’ Lucy interrupted. ‘If only. Not easy to do at five foot one and it doesn’t help having mates who are all at least five foot seven.’

  ‘And growing in all directions,’ said Izzie before anyone could pounce on her. ‘I don’t know what I’m going to do in the summer hols. Mum wants a beach holiday but I know what will happen when I get in the sea and the whales see me. They’ll all start singing “We Are Family”.’

  Lucy and TJ cracked up laughing.

  ‘Good one,’ said Lucy. ‘Must add that to my joke collection.’

  ‘If you think you look crapola,’ I said, ‘everyone will pick up on it. You of all people should know that, Izzie. You’re always going on about positive thinking and I honestly thought you were getting better lately and not being so down on yourself.’

  ‘I am,’ said Izzie. ‘Sort of. I’m learning to accept myself . . .’

  ‘That’s not enough,’ I said. ‘Come on! After me – all together, a one, a two, a one, two, three. I am gorgeous.’

  We all lined up, looked at ourselves in the mirror and chanted. ‘I am gorgeous. I am gorgeous. I am gorgeous.’

  Izzie and TJ started pulling monster faces at themselves as they chanted and unfortunately one of the customers from the café came in and saw us. She scurried into the nearest cubicle, looking as if she thought that we were mad. She might not be wrong.

  ‘Positive thinking,’ I said as she disappeared behind the door and we all burst out laughing.

  I love Saturdays. It’s my favourite day. And I love spending it with my mates having a good laugh and not thinking about anything remotely serious like homework or school and even though I’ve got stomach cramps today, I’m not going to let that get in the way one bit. It’s a funny thing with periods. I remember that before mine came, I really wanted it to happen. Thought it would make me a grown up. Hah! The novelty soon wore off when I experienced what came with it. PMS, headaches, mood swings, cramps. One month, Lucy, Izzie, TJ and I all got our periods at the same time. We laughed about it after but at the time, everyone was majorly oversensitive and tetchy and we almost fell out.

  Once we’d done our hair and retouched our make-up, we said goodbye to Tony, who was going off to meet some of his mates and then we were ready to set off down to Camden Lock. It’s one of our favourite hang-outs as the shops there are really cool and there are stalls selling everything from bangles and beads to herbal highs. One of Lal’s mates apparently bought some mushrooms from a dodgy-looking character down there by the canal last week and was as sick as a dog after taking too many. He ended up having his stomach pumped in Casualty.

  TJ went into the newsagent’s to buy some chewing gum while the rest of us waited at the bus stop.

  ‘I bet he’s only doing it to meet girls,’ I said as I buttoned up my jacket to keep out the chilly wind that had blown up whilst we were inside the café.

  ‘Who? What?’ asked Lucy.

  ‘That William boy . . .’

  ‘I knew you liked him,’ said Lucy.

  ‘Pound,’ said Izzie.

  ‘A pound? Whose side are you on?’ I asked.

  ‘You said boy,’ said Izzie.

  ‘You’re supposed to be my mate, not Tony’s, so forget about that stupid bet, will you?’

  ‘But we promised to be witnesses,’ said Izzie.

  I wrapped my arm around her neck and pulled back slightly. ‘And I promise that I will kill you if you don’t forget it. Understand, amigo?’

  ‘Understand,’ spluttered Izzie. ‘So what were you saying?’

  ‘William. I reckon he only does that collecting money for charity to pull girls.’

  ‘No,’ said Izzie. ‘I disagree. He’s too good looking. He wouldn’t need to pull a stunt like that to get a girl.’

  ‘Looks don’t necessarily ensure you pull,’ I said. ‘You have to meet people too and it helps if you have a ready-made opener. He’s on to a winner there, I reckon. Yes. Very clever indeed. I should put it on my list of pulling techniques after get yourself a dog.’

  ‘A dog?’ asked Lucy.

  ‘Yeah. Look at all the attention we get when we take Ben and Jerry out. Or Mojo.’

  Lucy laughed. ‘We get attention all right when they’ve put their noses somewhere they shouldn’t be.’

  ‘Dogs are a ready-made introduction,’ I said, ‘whether they’re well-behaved or not. It’s the same with collecting for charity. It gives you an excuse to approach cute boys that you might otherwise be shy of.’

  ‘But you’re not shy,’ said Lucy.

  ‘I am sometimes,’ I said.

  Lucy looked at Izzie as if to say she didn’t believe it one bit.

  TJ came out of the shop. ‘What have I missed?’

  ‘Nesta saying that she thought William did his charity work as a way of meeting girls,’ said Izzie.

  ‘No way,’ said TJ. ‘No one could be that calculating, could they?’

  Izzie and Lucy looked accusingly at me.

  ‘What?’ I said. ‘What?’

  ‘You’re that calculating,’ said Izzie. ‘You’re thinking of doing it as a way of meeting boys.’

  ‘And what’s wrong with that, Miss High and Mighty?’ I asked. ‘You can do good and meet people at the same time. And what’s wrong with being calculating about meeting boys? Sometimes you have to have a plan. Life is what you make it. And if you do charity, people automatically think you’re a good person, so that’s a bonus as well.’

  TJ looked shocked and shook her head. ‘I’m not sure about that,’ she said. ‘It sounds cold. Like you’re using people to make yourself look better.’

  ‘No way’ I objected. ‘No way am I a user.’

  ‘Yeah. But don’t you think your intentions are supposed to be more sincere?’ asked Lucy.

  I had a feeling that they were ganging up on me again. I was being cast in a bad light and all because I tried to think up good ways to meet boys. It was so unfair – actually, they should be grateful that I’m so creative in my boy-meeting technique!

  ‘I am sincere,’ I said. ‘I just like meeting boys and this seems like a good way. Two birds with one stone sort of thing.’

  ‘That’s true,’ said Izzie. ‘I guess whatever the reasons someone does charity work, it’s better to do something than nothing. In fact, I’ve been thinking about doing something myself lately . . .’

  ‘Like what?’ asked Lucy.

  ‘Dunno. Still thinking about it.’

  ‘We’re only fifteen,’ I said. ‘What can we do?’

  ‘Don’t know. But I want to do something. I was watching this programme recently about a country in Africa where they don’t have enough to eat; it was really heartbreaking. There were children dying of malnutrition. It made me feel
really bad because I’d been so obsessed with food, you know with all the mad diets I was trying. I’d even binned some of Mum’s suppers. Suddenly it felt wrong as here on the same planet are people who have nothing.’

  ‘Is that why you wrote that song about people going hungry?’ asked Lucy.

  Izzie nodded. Izzie wants to be a singer-songwriter when she is older. She plays guitar and writes her own lyrics and sometimes sings with a local band called King Noz. She wrote this great song a few weeks ago about the state of the world and she even got to sing it on the Teen Talk pilot when one of the guest singers got stuck on a train and didn’t show up.

  ‘I know what you mean,’ said TJ. ‘It doesn’t seem right, does it? I mean, all the resources are there, it’s just out of balance. Some countries have too much and some too little.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Lucy. ‘Why can’t we share out a little more?’

  We sat on the wall by the bus stop and talked about some of the problems in the world. Then we were silent for a few minutes while we thought about what a mess the world is in many ways. When I glanced at everyone’s faces, they were really gloomy, like it was the end of life as we know it. I hadn’t seen Lucy look so miserable since her favourite band, the VIPs, broke up.

  ‘Oh come on, guys,’ I said. ‘It’s Saturday! Time off. Lighten up. Let’s talk about something else.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Izzie. ‘Sometimes I want to talk about stuff like this. It bothers me. I think about it a lot and I think part of the reason that there is such a problem in the world is that people keep ignoring it or pretend it’s not happening.’

  ‘But it’s making you depressed,’ I said. ‘Look at your faces. We didn’t make everything go wrong so there’s no point in going over and over it and getting frustrated. Oh, the state of the world, people are dying, starving . . . oh oh oh . . .’

  ‘Well, they are,’ said Lucy. ‘I think Izzie s right. I don’t think we should ignore it.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said TJ. ‘I saw a programme last week that really made me sad as well. It was about an orphanage. The children were amazingly brave as most of them had nothing and no one.’