Teen Queens

by Cathy Hopkins

‘I don’t think these girls are jealous. I’m not sure. I mean, one of them was a bit miffed that I got off with Jonno, but these girls are popular and very pretty. The Teen Queens. It’s not like I’m any kind of threat to their position in the school.’

  Dad nodded. ‘Yes, but you got Jonno and they didn’t. They might think, first you get him, what’s next?’

  ‘Nothing. I just want to be ordinary.’

  ‘Then sorry, Lia, can’t help you. You’ll never be ordinary, not with your looks and personality. And you’re a clever girl. So you’ll always do well at school if you keep working. And our life, well, no one can ever say that that’s ordinary, can they? Sometimes you just have to accept your lot and get on with it.’

  ‘I know. Sorry. I’m going on about nothing. And I may be imagining it all anyway’

  ‘So these girls who are giving you a hard time . . . How, exactly? Calling you names? What?’

  My brain felt numb for a moment as I tried to think about it. There wasn’t actually anything I could say that sounded so bad. So someone stared at me and didn’t say hi back. Big deal. It sounds so pathetic.

  ‘I’m pretty sure that they’re all talking about me, but not in a nice way. Sometimes they ignore me, but sometimes, like when I go into a class, everyone shuts up like they’ve been talking about me . . . that sort of thing.’

  Dad got up to fill the coffee grinder with beans. ‘What do Cat and Becca think?’

  ‘Becca says stand up to them and I haven’t really talked to Cat about it much. To tell the truth, I don’t want them to get into it. You know, they might feel that they have to take sides and all that . . . I just want it all to go away.’

  Dad came over and squeezed my shoulder. ‘I know just how you feel, love.’

  ‘You do? How can you? Did someone give you a hard time at school?’

  ‘Bully me? No way. I’d have thumped anyone back who tried. But it’s different with lads. If someone’s a bully and tries to kick your head in, it’s pretty clear what’s happening. No. It was later when I first began to make a name for myself in the music business that I got bullied, but in a different kind of way to what goes on in schools.’

  ‘Who by?’

  Dad went to the fridge and got some milk. ‘The press,’ he said with a grim expression. ‘First, they’re all, Oh, the new golden boy, and they can’t get enough of you. But they can turn, and when they do, boy, do you feel it! I tell you, Lia, the press can be the biggest bullies of all and they can make or break someone.’

  ‘So what happened?’

  ‘I was on tour in the States and there was some story about a girl I was supposed to be having an affair with. All nonsense. I sat next to her in a club and the next day it was all over the papers over here. Course, your mum got to hear about it and was livid. Didn’t know what or who to believe. The more I defended my position, the more guilty I looked. I had to learn fast, believe me. No, the best way to deal with them, or those girls at your school, is not to waste any energy on them. Don’t rise to the challenge. Don’t engage. Don’t try to defend yourself as sometimes you can’t win.’

  ‘So what can you do?’

  ‘Decide who’s important in your life and be honest with them. Keep them close. But keep them out of it – gossip, rumour mongering, all of it. I’ve learned to keep my head down where the press are involved. But at the time, when I was younger, I used to get so mad at some of the things they’d write. Total fiction, but I had sleepless nights, thinking, What will people think? I must put the story straight, and so on. Dignified silence, that’s the best. Now, I know who I can count on and they’re the people who matter. They know the score and the rest of them can go to hell and believe what they want. Fame is fickle. The press are fickle. Sounds like these girls at your school are fickle. It sounds like you wouldn’t want them as friends anyway, would you?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘So, there’s your answer. Don’t waste your energy letting them bother you. Enjoy your date tonight. And you have some great mates that care about you and they’re the ones who matter. There will always be other people who won’t like you, no matter what you do. Don’t even give them the time of day. OK, pal?’

  ‘OK,’ I said.

  ‘So how’s about one of my cappuccino specials with extra chocolate on top?’

  ‘Sure,’ I said. I felt a lot better after talking to Dad. He was right. I’d been stupid letting it all get to me so much. In future, Kaylie and the Clones could do what they liked. I had my friends and my family, and they’re the ones that counted. ‘Thanks, Dad.’

  Later, I went upstairs to have a bath and get ready for my date. I was really looking forward to it and wondered where Jonno would suggest going. There weren’t that many places open nearby apart from pubs, so maybe he planned on going into Plymouth. I decided to make a real effort and spent ages trying on different outfits and doing my make-up. My first proper date since London. I couldn’t wait.

  Jonno arrived at seven o’clock, full of gossip about the casting session for The Rocky Horror Picture Show that had taken place at school in the afternoon.

  ‘Did you get it?’ I asked as I took him into the red sitting room. He’d played Danny Zucko in Grease in the Christmas show, so everyone was expecting that he’d play the lead again.

  He shook his head and flopped on to a sofa. ‘No, the role of Dr Frank N Furter went to Adam Hall.’

  ‘Do you mind?’

  ‘Nah. I’m cool with it. It can be a bit time-consuming playing the lead, and actually, I could do with some time to concentrate on other things.’

  ‘So who got the other parts?’

  ‘Do you know the story?’

  ‘Vaguely. Some kids end up in a castle with a load of weirdos.’

  Jonno laughed. ‘That’s about the gist of it. Dan Archer is playing Brad Majors and Jessica Moon is playing Janet. They’re the geeky kids whose car breaks down and who end up at Frank N Furter’s castle. Ryan Nolan is Riff Raff, the hunchback henchman, and Jade Macey is playing his sister, Magenta.’

  “What about Cat?’

  ‘I think she’s playing the tap dancing groupie, Columbia. But where were you? I thought you’d be there.’

  ‘Um, I decided to give it a miss this time. As you said, being in a show can be a bit full on. Did Kaylie and her mates get parts?’

  Jonno nodded. ‘Chorus, I think. Good job, because I doubt if they’d be able to remember their lines if they got bigger parts. They’re not exactly the brightest coins in the collection, are they? Once when I was asked to coach the netball team, I said I wanted to discuss tactics. One of them, I think it was Jackie, thought I was talking about mints.’

  I laughed, but wasn’t quite sure if he was just joking.

  ‘By the way, did you get the invite to Kaylie’s?’ he asked.

  I shook my head. I hadn’t thought of her party as an option and hoped that Jonno hadn’t planned on taking me there. ‘No. But . . . but you go if you want.’

  ‘No thanks,’ he said getting up and going over to look at a painting on the wall opposite. ‘Nice painting. Picasso, isn’t it? My mum’s got the same print.’

  ‘Er, yeah, Picasso.’ I didn’t tell him that ours was the original, in case he thought I was showing off.

  ‘Nah,’ he continued, ‘Kaylie’s do’s are not my scene. I find her crowd a bit too . . .’ he mimicked a girlie-girl walking on high heels and flicking her hair. ‘You know, lipstick, handbags and pointy shoes – that’s all they think about.’

  Yeah, I thought and how to ruin my life. ‘So what shall we do this evening?’ I asked.

  Jonno came and sat next to me and took my hand. ‘Ah well. I wanted to talk to you about this . . .’

  At that moment, Dad came in. ‘Watcha, Jonno,’ he said as he turned on the television. ‘Don’t mind me.’

  Jonno glanced at me, then looked longingly at the telly. ‘Er, how about we stay here? Hang out. It’s raining outside and I missed this afternoon’s game . . . be
cause of the casting session . . . and now, well, there’s the . . .’

  ‘Highlights of the Arsenal versus Man United game,’ said Dad, rubbing his hands together, then bouncing on to the sofa.

  Fifteen minutes later, Dad and Jonno were ensconced, shoes off, feet up, Cokes in hand, watching the football.

  ‘Woah,’ cried Dad as both of them rose in unison from the sofa when there was a near miss goal. As they settled back down again, Dad turned to look at me with one of his cheeky grins. ‘Think we need another after that,’ he said pointing at his Coke can.

  This wasn’t quite my romantic fantasy, I thought as I got up to go to the kitchen for fresh supplies. Mum was in the kitchen feeding the dogs when I went over to the fridge.

  She smiled up at me. ‘Not going out?’

  ‘Arsenal versus Man United,’ I said. ‘I think Dad and Jonno have just discovered that they’re soulmates.’

  ‘Ah,’ sighed Mum. ‘Some things you just can’t compete with.’

  “Why did Dad have to watch in the red room? There’s five other televisions in the house.’

  ‘But that’s where the biggest telly is. He got it specially for the footie. Digital sound, wide screen . . . he says he feels like he’s actually there.’

  ‘I just don’t get it,’ I said. ‘How men can get so excited about kicking a bit of leather around a field.’

  ‘Welcome to the club,’ said Mum. ‘Want to hear a joke about football?’

  I nodded.

  ‘What’s the similarity between a boy and a football player?’ she asked.

  ‘Dunno.’

  ‘They both dribble when they’re trying to score.’

  I laughed, then turned my head towards the door. I could hear singing. It sounded like the ‘I–I–yippee, song’. Mum laughed. ‘Better get used to it. Men tend to behave like kids when their beloved football’s on. It can get very emotional.’

  We went and stood in the hall by the red room door and, sure enough, they were both singing their hearts out. ‘We’re the best behaved supporters in the land, we’re the best behaved supporters in the land, the best behaved supporters, best behaved supporters, the best behaved supporters in the land . . . when we win. We’re a right bunch of bastards when we lose, we’re a right bunch of bastards when we lose, we’re a right bunch of bastards, right bunch of bastards, right bunch of bastards when we lose.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Mum. ‘Fancy a game of backgammon in the library?’

  ‘Anything to get away from this,’ I laughed, putting my hands over my ears.

  I spent the evening in the library with Mum while Jonno bonded with my dad in the red room. At one point, I crept in to catch up, but they were deeply absorbed in conversation, analysing the game so far. As the second half of their programme started up, they burst into song again. This time it was to the tune of ‘Glory, Glory Hallelujah’. ‘Glory, Glory, Man United. Glory, Glory, Man United,’ they sang. ‘Glory, Glory, Man United. When the Reds keep marching on, on, on.’

  ‘Ah, the famous rock star and the aspiring music student,’ I teased from the door. ‘I wish your fans could see you now, Dad.’

  ‘I’ve had a top time,’ said Jonno later when I saw him to the door. ‘We must do it again soon.’

  ‘Yeah, right,’ I said as he leaned in to kiss me goodnight.

  ‘Next week for Man United and Liverpool,’ called Dad as he went up the stairs.

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Jonno, giving Dad a wave. Somehow the moment for snogging had been ruined, so I stepped back inside. Jonno didn’t even seem to have noticed and went off smiling.

  So much for my first date, I thought later as I wiped off my make-up.

  THE FOLLOWING week at school, to my relief, the Clones seemed to have lost interest in me and life got back to normal. Sort of. At home, some rather strange things were starting to happen.

  On Monday, when I got back from school, I had post. A catalogue advertising Tea Tree oil products for people who suffer from bad perspiration and BO. I didn’t think anything of it, as so much junk mail comes through the door, so I chucked it in the bin.

  Tuesday, I got a catalogue about padded bras for women who had flat chests. Quite useful, I thought, seeing as I’m as flat as a pancake. Again, I didn’t think anything of it, only that our address must have gone on some mailing list somewhere. Although it was strange that it was addressed to me, as I wasn’t the home owner.

  Wednesday, a catalogue came for me from a company selling gravestones. It couldn’t be Kaylie, could it, I wondered? Surely she wouldn’t go to all the trouble of getting these things sent to me? A shiver went down my spine when I thought over the things that had been sent. A catalogue for people with BO, a catalogue for padded bras and now one for gravestones. The insinuations were horrible. That I smelled, had no chest and soon might need a gravestone. No, no, I told myself, no one would be that horrible.

  By the time the evening came, I had to believe that my earlier suspicions about Kaylie were right. At eight o’clock, two nettuna cheese pizzas arrived for me and I definitely hadn’t ordered them. The delivery boy insisted that I had – he had my name, phone number and everything. Mum phoned the restaurant and, sure enough, they had all my details. She paid the boy, then turned to me in the hall.

  ‘What’s going on, Lia? Were you still hungry after supper and didn’t want to say?’

  ‘No. Course not. I’d tell you if I wanted pizza, you know that.’

  ‘So who ordered these if you didn’t?’

  Kaylie O’Hara and her mates, I thought. And I’m pretty sure that they arranged for the catalogues to be sent as well. Mum saw me hesitate.

  ‘Do you think you might know who ordered these?’ she asked.

  ‘Maybe . . .’

  ‘Come on, let’s go and sit down and try and get to the bottom of this.’

  I followed Mum into the red room and we sat on the sofa. My mind was whirring round and round like a washing machine on spin. What to say? I couldn’t be sure it was Kaylie. It might just be a mistake on the computer at the pizza restaurant. There was only one locally and we had ordered from there before, so I know they had our details on record. It was possible that they’d made a mistake. But a nagging feeling told me otherwise, although I couldn’t prove anything. I felt miserable. If Kaylie was doing these things, she was doing them in a way that didn’t obviously point the finger back at her. It could be her being vindictive, but it also could be me being paranoid and imagining things.

  ‘So?’ asked Mum.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ I said. ‘Just at school lately, this girl has kind of got it in for me. I thought she’d dropped it as she’s been pretty cool this week. Sort of back to normal, but maybe not.’

  Mum nodded. ‘Your dad did mention that someone had upset you. You do know that you can come to either of us don’t you?’

  I nodded. ‘Yeah. I . . . I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.’

  ‘Has anything else arrived out of the ordinary, Lia? I noticed that there’s been a lot of post for you this week.’

  ‘Catalogues,’ I admitted. ‘At first I thought they were junk mail, but now . . .’

  ‘What sort of catalogues?’

  ‘One for people with BO, one for people with flat chests and one for gravestones.’

  ‘Oh, Lia,’ gasped Mum. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’

  ‘Because I’m not a hundred per cent sure, you know how much rubbish comes through the door – people advertising everything from windows to life insurance.’

  ‘Yes, but all that stuff comes to me or your father. There’s no reason why mail order firms would have your name. If it is this girl, then she has to be stopped. Do you want me to have a word with your class teacher?’

  ‘No!’ I cried. ‘God no, that would be the worst thing ever. What if it wasn’t her? Maybe it’s just coincidence. She’s already accused me of being self-obsessed . . .’

  ‘One coincidence I could buy,’ said Mum softly, ‘but not this many.�
��

  The thought of Mum going into the school filled me with horror. I imagined the teachers ticking Kaylie off, then she’d spread it around that I’d ratted on her, then there’d be even more talking about me behind my back and sniggering behind hands. No, Mum mustn’t go in. I decided to try and make light of the situation.

  ‘It’s not a big deal, Mum. Not really. I thought it would all blow over and maybe it has. But if it was Kaylie who ordered the pizzas and you went and talked to the teachers, then I’d be labelled as a sneak.’

  ‘But Lia darling, you can’t let her get away with this.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘So what do you want to do?’

  ‘Don’t know,’ I sighed. ‘I really don’t know.’

  ‘Do I know this girl?’ asked Mum, putting her arm around me.

  I shook my head. ‘Doubt it.’

  ‘What’s her name?’

  ‘Kaylie. But please, Mum, don’t do anything about it. I can handle it.’

  ‘Well, you’ll keep me informed as to what’s going on, won’t you?’

  ‘Sure,’ I said. It was good to know I had her support, but another part of me felt like I was letting her down. Star was so popular at school and Ollie is at his. And it’s not that I wasn’t popular. Lots of people thought I was OK, but I knew that could change if Kaylie carried on poisoning people’s minds about me. Already, I was noticing that people in our class weren’t being quite as friendly as they had been. God, I hate this, I thought. I really, really hate it. Why can’t Kaylie just leave me alone? Heaven knows what people are thinking.

  I had to make sure that Mum didn’t make things worse. ‘I’ll talk to her. Please, Mum, let me deal with it.’

  The next morning before school, Meena called me down into the hall. She was holding a huge bunch of tulips.

  ‘Who are they for?’ I asked.

  ‘For you. See, here your name. No message, though.’

  Oh, not Kaylie again, I thought, but then she wouldn’t send me flowers. Must be from Jonno, I decided as I took the bouquet. How sweet. He must have felt bad about neglecting me Saturday. I went to phone him immediately.