by Beth Garrod
“Cool, huh? Who knew I had it in me? Such PROM-ise?!” I waited for laughs. But only two came. One from Zac. One from Mikey. But that’s all I needed. I beamed at them both.
“So put your hands together for Mr Lutas, who pulls this off every year, just for us.”
Luckily the room clapped, giving me time to compose myself. I wiped my hand sweat on my skirt and carried on.
“And we need another round of applause for the lady who lets it all happen.” I nodded towards Mrs Hitchman. “Who I also happen to know is a dab hand with a paintbrush, along with her very happy husband. Who is very happy. With her. As a wife.”
A confused round of forced applause splattered through the room. Mrs Hitchman looked mortified. Zac pretended to put his head in his hands. Oh well, it was the thought that counted.
“And a final thank you should go to the sixth formers who’ve given up their time to supervise us.” A few hands clapped. “Especially Zac,” the claps got joined by wolfwhistles and whoops, “who as you all know by now is Mr Lutas’s son. But you may not know – because even Mr Lutas doesn’t – that Zac has spent his last week here giving up his evenings to create a brand-new space for us.” For the first time since I’d met him, I saw Zac go red. “So give it up for Zac, and his conspirator-Mrs Hitchman, who’ve created St Mary’s first-ever band rehearsal room!”
The hall burst into applause led by Mr Lutas, who was staring at Zac, positively glowing with pride.
“Pretty cool, huh? If anyone wants more info, Zac’s put full deets on the music board.” I paused as the clapping died down. But I couldn’t buy more time. I had to get on with the hardest part.
“So, back to business. Here’s fact two. This year there’s been loads of gossip about me and my friends. So I wanted you to know what the actual truth was.” I looked directly at Rachel and Tegan. “I really hope this is OK?!”
The next picture clicked up, of the three of us. I gulped so loudly it sounded like one of the speakers had popped.
“This person here –” I pointed at Tegan’s face – “is probably the most cleverest –” that wasn’t right – “cleverer –” oh no – “intelligent person I’ve ever met and has been an amazing friend to me since day one. Despite having zero spare time, as she’s always off doing incredible things like winning national gymnastic competitions –” there were murmurs of impressed surprise at this discovery – “she always finds time to help ANYONE with ANY problem they have. And she didn’t give up on me this term, even when I was a total cowbag and refused to give her a second chance. So I wanted to take this assembly to say a huge thank you to her, and a thanks for holding out for me. She really is the best friend you could wish for.” I hesitated, scared at what was coming next.
“Which is why she never told anyone my lowest moment. . .” Here goes.
“When I was seven and she was staying over, I was a bit confused about . . . stuff. So, over dinner I asked my mum whether. . .” Tegan’s jaw dropped open. Yes, I was about to share that secret. There was no going back. “. . . whether I could practise kissing with her. As in, yes, snog my mum.”
The room gasped. Mrs Hitchman glared at me so hard I thought part of me was going to melt.
“OBVIOUSLY I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT IT WAS, I’M NOT A WEIRDO.” Woah, I stepped back from the mic after almost deafening everyone. This revelation must NOT be the last thing that 250 people hear before a lifetime of silence. “AND SHE SAID NO.” Still too loud. “But still. That’s not the kind of thing you want the world to know. Although now you do.”
I couldn’t look at Tegan in case she was even more mad with me than before I started.
“And this, on the right, is Rachel. You all probably know her as ‘fittest girl in the school’.” I felt a twinge of pride with how offended Lou looked at the general whisperings of agreement. “Which is cool.” Sorry-not-sorry, Lou. “But she’s also kind and generous and always looking out for other people. In fact, on more than one occasion she’s taken the wrap for something that wasn’t her at all.”
They didn’t need the specifics, did they? But as I peered off stage, I realized that if I was going for total honesty, that’s exactly what I needed to do. It was now or never.
“OK, full disclosure. One time I’d had this spot, and all through maths it had been sort of straining to get out. Like my dog, when she’s on the lead. But a spot?”
Mrs Hitchman steadied herself like she was in the early stages of fainting. Maybe I should have gone with never.
“Anyway, I was squeezing it, and got WAY too into, and somehow leaned on the sink. Which then fell off, and then kind of flooded the entire girls’ loos. And before I could stop her, Rachel said it was her! Because I was already on a warning. And I didn’t even manage to squeeze it properly. The spot. Not Rachel.”
Wow. So this is what disgusted silence sounds like. Rachel looked like she was in shock. Jo had warned me to spare the finer details of it, but something about being up here had opened my mouth floodgates and I couldn’t seem to stop anything.
“So yes, you might have heard some gossip, or seen something silly at prom, but take it from me – knowing one tiny thing about someone doesn’t mean you know that person at all. So don’t waste your time wondering who said what, and which rumours are true. Because I GUARANTEE that every single person in this room has said something funny, or been misunderstood, or put their foot in it, or crushed on someone we shouldn’t.” I smiled at Mikey. “But I’m here to say, SO WHAT? NONE of that is bad. That’s part of being normal. The only really bad thing is something that I am guilty of – and that’s betraying someone’s trust, especially when they’re the best friends in the world.”
You could hear a pin drop. Although no one really carries (let alone drops) pins.
As painful as this was, I felt a little buzz of pride that for once I wasn’t hiding behind anything. “So, I wanted to say sorry to Rachel and Tegan – and what the heck, Mikey, Zac, Mr Lutas and Mrs Hitchman too – as that’s exactly what I did. And I will never do it again. Starting from now. Because there’s one last thing you need to know.”
My final two pictures popped up.
“I didn’t win the camera that you all wanted. This was my picture.” Mumbles flapping face looked even more glorious four-metres high. “This amazing one,” I pointed at Jo’s athletics pic, “was my sister’s. It was an honest mix-up, but I should have come clean.” I smiled apologetically at Mr Lutas. “I didn’t do the right thing then, but better late than never. So, if anyone wants to use it, I’ve given the camera back, and you can sign it out from the library.”
A few people clapped. Mostly people just sat rigid, stunned at how their end-of-term assembly had turned into something that you normally saw on ITV when you were off sick. But I didn’t care cos there were four people who were cheering, whistling and making more noise than the whole school put together. Rachel, Tegan, Mikey and Zac. My friends.
Dignity 0. Life 1.
Wow. Had I, Bella Fisher, made a sort-of almost good decision?!
Mrs Hitchman beckoned me off stage. And I let the whooping and clapping continue as I returned back to my chair, to be greeted by the world’s biggest bear hug with Rachel and Tegan, complete with pile-on from Mikey. Thank goodness this was end of term assembly, or we’d probably get re-grounded.
But I didn’t care if I got told off. I’d done it. My plan hadn’t gone quite to plan, but I’d got there. And I’d got my friends back.
The rest of the afternoon was a mixture of being called ‘assembly girl’, ‘poo head’ and ‘mum snogger’. And ‘Fishy Balls’, but I was used to that. It was also full of new hellos to people who had never spoken to me (but who now thought I could be useful to know, as however bad their lives got, not being me was a reliable ego-boost) and goodbyes to ones I wished were staying longer. But that was made easier by the four Velvet Badger tickets that were now in my bag.
When the final bell of the final day finally went, Tegan and Rachel were wai
ting for me at Bum Tree. Rachel was dangling what looked like a massive tissue in the air, and it was getting dodgy looks from everyone who walked past.
“Errrr, why are you waving some pants at me?”
She grinned.
“Tegan’s idea. Start the summer off with a dirty knickers party.”
Tegan laughed.
“How many times? It’s ‘dirty laundry’!”
I still didn’t get it.
“Can you put them away? People are staring.” Not that that was a new thing for me today. “Someone please explain?!”
As we walked to Tegan’s house that’s exactly what she did.
In honour of my assembly life-re-assembly, Tegan had decided we were kicking summer off in style, starting with a dirty laundry party. An evening of all of us sharing all the secrets we’d ever had, and not told each other, so we could reset any not-knowings to zero. In Tegan’s words, it was a tribute to me ‘being a total nerd burger in front of the whole school, who we were now stuck with for life, as no one else was going to ever run the risk of befriending you’.
We sat in a circle in her garden, enjoying the warm evening as we flicked open our cans of Diet Coke, tore into our Haribo, and pledged to ’fess up to everything. No secret too big or too small. Tegan went first. Although I couldn’t imagine someone like her having anything to hide.
“OK, first things first. An apology to Rachel.” Well, this was interesting already. She closed her eyes as if too embarrassed to witness Rachel’s reaction. “It’s not just Bella who likes cookers. Or should I say . . . your HOB.”
I ALWAYS KNEW I WASN’T THE ONLY ONE WHO THOUGHT DAN WAS HOT?! And Tegan always made out I was so inapprops!! I squealed “I KNEW IT!” as Rachel stuck her tongue out, accidentally flopping out a half-chewed chewy cola bottle on to my knee. Once I’d picked it off, and they’d finished laughing (and I’d dug out that picture of Dan that was almost so fit that surely even Rachel couldn’t deny it, although she still did), Tegan composed her best serious face for round two.
“Ready for more?” We both nodded.
“OK. Here goes. One time at a massive gymnastics comp, I wanted to look older. Like more serious?” I said, “Uh-huh” but didn’t really understand as to me Tegan always did that effortlessly. “So, I stuck cotton wool balls down my leotard.”
No biggie, she’d already told us that ages ago.
“Thing is. . .” A grin crept back on to what was meant to be her serious face. “I had to do a particularly aggressive triple backflip. And as I did, they all flew out. Right in the judges’ faces.” I snorted at the image of Tegan’s exploding fluff chest. Between the kind of laugh that you need to bend over for, she tried to eek out the final details.
“I didn’t want to lose points. So . . . so I, told . . . them . . . they . . . were . . . for . . . m-m-medicinal . . . boob . . . sweat . . . purposes!”
I officially crossed the line between ‘laughing’ and ‘laughing so hard I cried’. It actually hurt. Could sides actually split? This was so un-Tegan like?! My muscles ached with being too entertained. This was basically exercise.
But the laughing didn’t let up. I had to curl into a foetal position to be able to deal with Rachel’s description of her emergency A&E trip. She’d always told us it happened after she fell off one of her mum’s exercise balls. But apparently the real story was that she was listening so hard at Dan’s door – to his convo with his fit friend – that when they opened it unexpectedly, the handle caught in her hoop earring and ripped it out. Fit friend ended up driving her to hospital as she blubbed in the passenger’s seat, wearing a pair of pink earmuffs to stem the blood flow. Glam.
We stayed in the garden talking, chewing, laughing and snort-laughing until there was almost no light left in the evening. Turns out however well we thought we knew each other, we all still had a whole heap of funny things we thought we’d never be able to tell other humans. I felt so happy (and full of sweets) I could almost pop. But it wasn’t just because I’d found out that the others were almost as rubbish at life as I was. It was because this terrible term had somehow term-inated with us being better friends than ever.
As Tegan was about to launch into her final story, her dad shouted that she had a visitor. Flustered, she leapt up and ran into the house, faster than me when my mum tries to drag me into her ‘Suppleness and Sexuality’ workshops. Rachel and I gave each other a look meaning we’d both clocked something was up. Tegan never got flummoxed by anything.
When she came back, instead of walking straight back out she knocked on the back door, and poked her head outside.
“So, er, there’s one last thing I haven’t told you guys.”
I sat bolt upright.
Had she ordered surprise pizza for us all? I was ready and willing to deal with THAT news. Even if it was evil mushroom.
“Don’t be mad. But, I . . . I guess it’s time you met someone. . .” She hid behind the door to compose herself before popping her head back out. “Meet my . . . my boyfriend.”
I took such a massive breath of surprise that I inhaled an entire daddy-longlegs that had been in mid-flight. RIP DLL. Rachel grabbed my hand. So it was news to her too. This was news of the century. And that included when Louis Tomlinson’s baby was born.
I craned my neck to see round the door. Who WAS this person Tegan had kept secret?! Who had won over the girl who wasn’t bothered by any boy (except Rachel’s brother, but he had a boyf so she couldn’t have him anyway). Gulp. It was going to be our friend duty to totally start hanging out with him. He’d better be AMAZING. Amazing enough to deserve Tegan. But not so amazing that we also became obsessed with him and it all got awkward. Please tell me it’s not Zac?!
Tegan pushed the door open. And grinned.
And it all fell in to place.
Her boyfriend stepped forward.
And he was smiling so hard it looked like he’d just found out he’d won a lifetime of Chomps.
I approved. And from Rachel massive smile, so did she.
“Surprise!” Mikey winked at us.
And with that he scooped Tegan into his arms and planted a massive kiss on her cheek.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
“So how was it then?”
Jo hadn’t been home when I got back from the dirty-laundry-party night. Still, I’d been in so much shock over the Mikey revelation that I would have struggled with sentences anyway. I swear I was happier than if I’d found a major perfect boyfriend of my own.
This morning, while I’d spent hours building up the energy to think about getting out of bed, my overachieving sister had already gone out for athletics training. Now she was back and perched on a stool eating what looked like flakes of charcoal (which turned out to be roasted Brussel-sprout leaves she’d discovered in the oven). After all the help she’d given me, Jo was desperate to hear all about how yesterday’s big reveal had gone.
But this convo required a clothes cuddle. I ran up and pulled on my extra-fluffy dressing gown over my PJs, regardless of the fact that it was the middle of the day. I tromped back downstairs three at a time and jumped up on to the stool next to her.
“Wellllll, basically it was like the worst thing ever. But also the best, and now everything is great. So thank you. Loads. And I’m going to see Velvet Badger. And you can come.”
“Think I’ll pass, thanks.” Jo had moved on to chopping vegetables and lime jelly into tiny cubes. “Don’t ask – Mum’s read that eating green food improves life expectancy, so all we’ve got is this or gherkins.”
I’d take gherkins every time.
“Your loss. They’re like the best guitar band EVER. Although Keith’s not well at the moment. And he’s the guitar.” Out of habit I shoved whatever food was nearest into my mouth, which turned out to be some jelly and celery (jellery?). I tried unsuccessfully to pretend I was enjoying it.
“Anyway, Mikey and Tegan are basically going to get married. They’re TOTALLY TOGETHER. And it’s beyond c
ute. And Rachel and I will be bridesmaids. Although I don’t really want to have to stand next to her wearing the same dress for compare and contrast reasons. Although Tegan doesn’t believe in marriage so maybe they’ll just have a commitment ceremony and I’ll be OK.”
Once Jo had deciphered what I was getting at, she looked genuinely pleased.
“Oh, ace! So Tegan finally realized what a decent bloke he was?”
Well, kind of. It was more that after I’d fled prom, Zac had spilled the beans about Mikey’s prom-saving late-night secret sew fest. Guess he’d got bored of listening to me witter on about how amazing they’d be together. And that’s what had made her finally see Mikey in the way we’d all done for ages. She’d just been waiting for the right time to tell us.
Jo put the remains of her chopping in the fridge and closed the door.
“So did you manage to do the speech like we practised?”
I nodded. She didn’t need to know that I’d also told everyone about my mega-spot. Or done an accidental mucous bubble out of my left nostril when I panick-breathed too heavily.
NAMASTE.
A man’s voice boomed out Mum’s favourite yoga greeting. It took me a second to figure out what was going on before remembering that she had reset our doorbell to it a few weeks ago to ‘encourage positive arrivals’. All it encouraged was me forgetting what it was and arriving too late at the door to actually answer it.
Mum’s footsteps clunked towards it, so Jo and I carried on our chat.
“So, anyway.” I grabbed my camera out of my bag and plonked it on the counter. “I added something in. I came clean about the camera comp! And Mr Lutas was well imprrrrrrressed and said I should keep it for the summer and hand it over next term. Which is a TOTAL RESULT.”
“Bella!” Mum flung the kitchen door open. She was wearing the stripy kaftan that makes her look like a human packet of fruit pastilles.
“What?”
“There’s someone at the door for you.”
“Er, who?” Not like her not to tell me.
