by Archer, Kiki
“Brilliant,” said Susan, “and number two, which was the shortest line?”
Philomena started again, leading the class in a chorus of Cs.
“C,” said Sunny.
“Ha! This is brilliant,” laughed Champagne.
“No it’s not,” said Sunny. “What are we even doing this for?”
“Let’s just run through the final few answers. Did everyone get B for question three?”
Everyone nodded and Sunny stayed silent.
“C for four?” The same nods came back. “And A for five?”
“Five out of five,” said Priggy, licking her finger and waving it through the air.
Susan sat down on her desk and tapped her teeth together. “Now, Sunny, we’ve all got a confession to make. We played a little trick on you.”
“What?” The A-grade student didn’t look happy.
“While you were out I asked the class to write down the wrong answers. I wanted to show them what a huge influence peer pressure was on attitude and behaviour.”
Sunny’s cheeks flared up with colour. “I knew that wasn’t the smallest triangle!”
“Hey, Sunny, I knew you wouldn’t mind playing along. You’re bright enough to understand the bigger picture.”
Champagne laughed. “But not bright enough to spot the smallest triangle.”
Sunny screwed up her piece of paper. “Oh yeah, ha ha, joke’s on me.”
“No, girls, stop. I knew Sunny could handle this, and Sunny, just so you know, I’ve done this every year with my general studies classes, and every single time the same thing happens.” She nodded. “Isn’t it interesting? You saw the smallest triangle. It was obvious to you which the smallest triangle was. Yet you gave me the letter of the largest triangle instead.”
“Yeah, only because everyone else said B.”
“So, are attitudes based on the beliefs of others?”
Sunny shook her head. “No, it just crossed my mind that I might be wrong and I didn’t want to look like an idiot.”
Champagne whispered under her breath. “Unfortunately you look like one now.”
“Oh shut up, Champagne. I’m going,” said Sunny, standing from her desk.
“No, Sunny, don’t. Can’t you see how this highlights the effect that other people can have on your own personal perception and belief? Please stay.” Susan lifted the pile of papers. “I was going to get you to answer this question. It’s from last year’s exam, all about how attitudes are formed and what you can do to change them.”
Sunny threw her bag onto her shoulder and walked to the front. “I’ll do it in the library,” she said, taking a sheet.
Philomena stood up too. “I think that was a bit unfair, Madam Quinn. I’ll do mine in the library too.”
“Are we going?” asked the girls at the back.
Susan placed the question sheets down on the table at the front. “For goodness sake, girls. You’re eighteen. There was no offense meant by this.”
Priggy and Champagne watched as the scattering of girls came to the front to collect their sheet before leaving the room. They stayed seated in silence.
“You two might as well go.”
“Bad day?” asked Champagne. “We thought that might be the case.”
“Did you really have to tease her like that?”
Champagne shrugged. “I’d have given the answers I’d got written down if you played that trick on me.”
“That’s just the thing,” said Susan, shaking her head, “you probably wouldn’t.”
“I would, and it’s brought little miss sunshine down a peg or two.”
“Right, come on girls, off you go. I’m going to finish some marking.”
“No,” said Priggy, standing up from her seat. “We only showed up because we’ve got a message from Jenna.”
Susan ignored her. “Take a question sheet from the front and bring it back next lesson.”
“She says you’re not answering her calls.”
“Come on girls, off you go.”
Champagne stood up and placed her hands on her hips. “You were so cool on the ski trip. We were really close. What’s happened?”
“I’ve remembered my priorities. That’s what’s happened. I’m your teacher and I would like you to take this question sheet away and answer it to the best of your ability. This could well come up on the exam again in May.”
Priggy sighed. “She wasn’t kissing that Jade woman.”
“Girls, I’d like you to leave.”
Priggy continued. “She wasn’t. She’s devastated. She just wants you to return her calls. I know the picture looks bad, and I was like OMG Champs, come and check this out when I saw it, but then when I looked closely it was exactly how Jenna said it was.”
“I don’t care what Jenna’s been saying.” Susan rubbed her temples. “Seriously girls, this isn’t a discussion we’re about to have.”
“That Jade woman grabbed Jenna’s phone. She was waving it above her head. That’s when she planted a kiss on Jenna. I even messaged Lisa on Facebook and she says that’s exactly how it happened.”
“Lisa was there too?” Susan shook her head. “No. It doesn’t matter. Come on, girls, your exams are around the corner; you need to show some focus.”
“How can we change your mind?” asked Champagne nodding at the board. “What does that say? To change someone’s attitude you need to create cognitive dissonance?” She pulled a face. “What does that mean?”
“It doesn’t matter what it means. Come on, off you go.”
Champagne shook her head. “I’m your student, you’re my teacher. I’m asking you to explain how you can change someone’s attitude.”
“I like your thinking, Champs,” said Priggy, not following at all.
Susan sighed and stood up. “Fine. To change someone’s attitude you need to create cognitive dissonance. Now off you go.”
“I don’t understand. Give me an example.”
Susan sighed. “Fine. Your attitude’s based on three things. The cognitive: What you believe to be true.”
Champagne nodded. “So you believe she kissed Jade. You believe she’s been unfaithful.”
Susan ignored the statement. “The affective: Your feelings.”
Champagne nodded again. “You’re hurt by this.”
“And the behavioural: How you act.”
Champagne lifted her hands in conclusion. “So you’re ignoring her.”
Susan continued. “To change someone’s attitude you need to cause a mismatch in these three elements. For example the thirteen year old smoker who thinks smoking’s okay. That’s the cognitive. They like the taste and the way it makes them feel like a cool kid. That’s the affective. And they smoke because their friends do. That’s the behavioural. If you highlight the negative effects of smoking, and they suddenly understand how harmful it can be to their body, then you’ve created an imbalance in their attitude and they may no longer think it’s cool and they might even stop doing it, especially if you can get their friends to stop doing it too.”
“What?” said Priggy with her face all scrunched up. “I didn’t know Jenna smoked.”
“It’s simple, Priggs. Susie thinks Jenna’s been unfaithful. She feels hurt by this, so she ignores her. If we prove to her that Jenna hasn’t been unfaithful, then we’ll create cognitive dissonance and she won’t feel hurt. Her attitude will change, and she’ll start talking to her again.”
“How are we going to do that?”
Champagne grabbed her friend’s arm and pulled her towards the door. “We’re not, Jenna is.”
“Girls, wait, I’d really rather you didn’t get in—”
“Dissonance!” shouted Champagne, opening the door. “You’ve taught it us now!”
Susan closed her eyes, waiting for the door to slam shut, and was startled by the sound of Marcus Ramsbottom’s voice instead.
“And this is my colleague, Madam Quinn’s class, or dare I say, lack of it. They’ve probably had en
ough, or staged a protest, or—”
“Can I help you?” asked Susan, suddenly noticing the dolled-up barmaid as well.
“My Angel has requested a tour of the school. I’ve got a free afternoon so I thought I’d do the honours.” Marcus was wearing his best tweed jacket and matching bowtie.
Angel plumped up her hair and stretched her long nails out towards the room. “Oh wow. Tammy and Tanisha would love it here.” She did an excited little jump. “How soon do you think we can get them in?”
“Step at a time, my Angel, step at a time.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve got marking to do,” said Susan, dropping her eyes to the desk.
Angel lowered her voice. “I’ll do it,” she whispered.
Marcus coughed. “Thank you, Madam Quinn. We’ll be off.”
Angel was nodding with excitement. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your Britney. I’ll do it. It’s worth it for all of this.”
Marcus stepped behind the barmaid and tried to shunt her out of the room. “Off we go then,” he said.
Angel sucked on her first finger and flicked her leg out behind her. “Hit me baby one more time. You want me to wear plaits as well?”
Susan looked up in shock. “Angel, are you …” She realised she had no clue how to phrase it. “Has he asked you to …”
Angel was wiggling as her singing got louder. “Oh baby baby, how was I supposed to…” She paused. “I’ll wear a really short skirt.”
Susan stood up. “Angel, could I have a word?”
“No time, no time,” said Marcus. “We’re off to see the theatre next.”
“Ooo, you have a theatre?” giggled Angel, tottering out of the room of her own accord.
Chapter Twenty
Susan walked into the fusty communal lounge. It was 5.30 p.m., well past her usual Skype time with Jenna. She had stayed in the classroom following her disastrous sixth form lesson, catching up on all of her marking, and even managing to finalise her lesson preparation for most of next week. She had spent time doing the little jobs as well, like writing Monday’s date on the board, and opening all of the textbooks to the correct pages before stacking them into neat piles; neither of which were truly necessary, but she wanted to stay busy. She’d even wasted time watering the crispy brown pot plants on the window ledge in an attempt to avoid her phone. It hadn’t worked though, and it became harder and harder to ignore the sorrowful selfies of Jenna holding up a card that said ‘call me.’ Or the full length versions of Blue’s Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word that came warbling through on her voicemail. The tipping point had come when she’d opened a picture message of a love-heart sweetie that simply said: Yours. Susan had switched off her mobile and marched through the school, knowing that a new focus was needed quite quickly. She wasn’t trying to punish Jenna. She just didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to feel.
Susan closed the lounge door behind her and tried not to breathe in the fusty odour. She traversed the clothes horses that were weighed down with sports kit and apologised to the room as she tripped over a large bag of netballs. Susan looked up and realised that Mel Copeland from PE, who was head back, eyes shut, in her usual spot, hadn’t heard, let alone noticed. She regained her balance and said hello to Martha Adams and Mary Llewellyn, but neither looked up from their game of chess.
“Bon bon?” asked Danielle Watts.
Susan sat down next to the school nurse and declined. “Anything good on tonight?”
“Well, we’ve got Neighbours now, Home and Away next, Hollyoaks at six thirty, Emmerdale at seven, Corrie after that, followed by Eastenders, then Corrie again, then at nine it’s Gogglebox, but I hate Friday nights as there’s never anything on.”
“When? At ten?”
“Yeah.” Danielle bit into a large bar of Cadbury’s Dairy Milk. “You’d think they’d show something funny like Friends. Friday nights were always about Friends. Why can’t they make something good like that again?”
Susan nodded. “Friends was good.”
Mary Llewellyn lifted her head. “You say you’re seeing friends? At the Black Bear? Would you pick up Martha’s Red Ruby again, dear? We’ve drunk the dam dry.”
“No, I’m not—”
“That Sunny girl of yours was at the staffroom today sending me on a wild goose chase for some syllabus or something or other. I couldn’t quite hear what she was asking for. So yes, a bottle of the port would be much appreciated.”
“No I—”
“Had me rooting around in your pigeon hole and all sorts.”
“She’s not got her hearing aids in,” whispered Danielle.
Martha added to the conversation. “And I’d like some of those long menthol cigarettes if she’s got any.”
“No, I’m not—”
“Take a twenty,” said Mary, pulling her small leather purse out of her skirt pocket and throwing it over to Susan.
Susan missed the catch and rubbed her knee, picking up the purse and pulling open the zip. She looked at the array of shrapnel. “I’m not going to the Black Bear.”
“You’re going to the Black Bear? Yes. Take my purse, dear.”
Danielle Watts let out a huge sigh. “I’ll come up with you at ten if you like? There’s nothing on TV after all.”
“Honestly?” said Susan, smiling. “That’s great. I was hoping to catch up with Angel actually, and I could really do with the walk.”
Danielle threw a handful of Maltesers into her mouth. “No chance. Chuck over your keys, Martha,” she shouted. “We’ll take the scooter instead.”
“I’m not the deaf one,” said Martha, rubbing her ears. She pointed towards the red mobility scooter parked up in the corner of the room. “Keys are in the ignition.”
“Who needs permission?” asked Mary. “I’ve already told you to use my purse.”
“No, the girls are taking the scooter.”
“What computer? Is that what’s making the noise?”
Susan pulled herself out of her seat. “No, that’s the phone. I’ll get it.”
“We’re taking the scooter. To the Black Bear,” said Danielle, pronouncing every word with loud clarity.
“I know, it was my idea,” nodded Mary, dropping her head back down to the board.
Susan dodged the stack of lacrosse sticks and banged into the arm that was dangling down from the sofa. She apologised quickly, but realised that Mel Copeland hadn’t even flinched. “Phone, phone, phone,” she said, lifting an array of sports kit from the counter at the back of the room.
“Hello,” she said, finally finding the old-fashioned receiver.
“Hello, I’m trying to get hold of Susan Quinn.”
“Hi, yes, it’s Susan speaking.”
“Susan, hi! The school’s sent me from pillar to post. I’ve been in the library, the theatre, the sports hall. Sorry, anyway, hello! It’s Lisa from Club Ski.”
Susan felt her cheeks flare up. “Lisa, hi.”
“I just wondered if I could have a quick chat about last night? Jenna’s really upset that you think something might have gone on with her and—”
“Is she there?” Susan lowered her voice. “Did she ask you to call?”
“Yes.”
“Oh for goodness sake. Tell her I’ll Skype her in five minutes.”
“Would you like me to be there too?”
Susan could feel her anger rising. “No, we’ll be fine, thank you.”
“Okay, well listen, nothing—”
“Nice hearing from you again, Lisa. Speak to you soon.” Susan hung up the phone and turned back around expecting all eyes to be on her, but the only movement she spotted was Mel Copeland’s mouth as it dropped a little bit wider. Susan looked at Danielle. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
Mary Llewellyn frowned. “You’re taking a sh—”
“Back in a bit,” said Susan even louder.
“She’s sure come out of her shell,” said Mary, lifting her Queen and dropping it down to the kill square. “And that’s che
ckmate.”
****
Susan strode out of the lounge in a foul mood. How dare Jenna involve other people? How dare other people call her up at her place of work? How embarrassing that everyone had heard. Susan twisted her key in the lock and corrected herself. No one had heard, but still. It was inappropriate. This whole thing was inappropriate. She pushed open the door to her apartment and walked towards the counter in the centre of the room, lifting her laptop lid and taking a seat on the tall stool. Jenna had gone too far this time. Jenna would have to understand. This couldn’t go on. This had to stop. She clicked on the Skype app and scrolled to Jenna’s jpeg with the simple intention of hitting the green button and connecting the call. Instead she stopped, feeling her heart melt with instant warmth. Jenna had updated her profile image. The shot had been taken really close to the screen, and her big brown eyes were wide. A small word had been written on the top of her left cheek. Sorry, it said with two teardrops drawn underneath. Susan stared at the look of sadness and was overcome with emotion. Jenna was Jenna. She’d never change. But she loved her. She loved her for who she was.
Susan clicked on the image and waited. “Hey,” she said as the connection came into focus, immediately laughing at the new word Jenna had printed on her face.
“Hey,” said Jenna, ignoring the fact she had KNOBBER written across her forehead.
“Eyeliner?” asked Susan.
“Permanent marker.”
Susan laughed. “No it’s not.”
“Maybe it should be,” said Jenna. “I’m sorry. I’m so so so so sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?”
“I’m sorry that you saw the photo. I’m sorry that Amber uploaded the photo. I’m sorry that I didn’t mention Jade when I told you who I was out with. I’m sorry that I’ve bombarded you with photos and texts,” she smiled, “and singing. But I guess I’m most sorry that you’ve lost your trust in me.”
“Are you sorry for kissing her?”
“Susan, I tried to tell you last night. I tried to get Lisa to tell you today. I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me.”
