Speak of the devil. At that very moment, Kaylie came out of the loos and made a beeline for us. In her hand, she had a pile of envelopes. Oh, here we go, I thought. Invites to one of her do’s.
‘Hi.’ She smiled at us all, then turned to me and handed me an invite. ‘Look, Lia, I just wanted to say, let’s bury the hatchet and start again. I’ve been thinking about that e-mail you sent and you’re right, we should try to get on. So, bygones be bygones, etc., and please come to my party on Saturday.’
I think my mouth fell open. ‘Oh . . . right. Thanks,’ I said as I took the envelope from her.
She gave invites to Cat and Becca as well. ‘I thought I’d have a theme party this time,’ she said, ‘so it’s fancy dress. Vicars and Tarts. All the boys are coming as vicars, so all the girls are coming as tarts. Should be a right laugh.’
Becca pulled a face at her as she went off. ‘What a cheek! I don’t believe it. At rehearsal, she fed us a pack of lies about you and now she swans in and gives us invites as though nothing was said. Huh! Bury the hatchet? Her? More like she wants to bury it in our backs. So no. No way I’m going to one of her stupid parties. Not if you paid me.’
‘Me neither,’ said Cat. ‘She might think she can just wave and we’ll all come running. No way. No, let’s put these invites in the bin.’
‘No, wait,’ I said. ‘I think we should go. She’s put out the hand of friendship and I bet that wasn’t easy for someone like her. Please. I don’t want to go on my own, so please come with me. I . . . I want to give it a try.’
Becca looked at Cat.
‘Why is getting on with Kaylie so important to you, Lia?’ asked Becca. ‘She’s a Class A bitch. You don’t need people like that in your life.’
I felt a moment’s panic. I didn’t want them to think that there was any truth in what Kaylie had said to them about me wanting to get in with her and shake them off.
‘I don’t want to be a close friend of hers, I don’t. I just want it to be all right between us. Like, no stuff . . . no bad vibes. If she is on the level and I don’t go to her do, she might think I’m being snooty or something. I’d like to go and show that I simply want to get on with everyone. Then maybe we can put this whole mad thing behind us all and get on with our lives.’
‘All right,’ sighed Becca. ‘But only for you.’
On the night of the party, we had a great laugh getting dressed. Being Queen Party Planner, Mum’s got a dressing-up chest full of weird and wonderful costumes from Venetian wigs to Japanese kimonos to Roman togas. At the bottom of the chest, we found some wonderful tarty gear. Rubber skirts, feather boas, blonde wigs, high strappy shoes . . . Becca put on a tiny black leather skirt and black lace bra with a see-through black blouse over it. Cat chose a white see-through top with a black bra underneath – very trashy. And I went for a short, low cut, pink strappy dress, fishnet tights and a magenta pink feather boa. We plastered our faces with make-up and back-combed our hair as high as we could. By the time we’d finished we looked like a right bunch of slappers.
Dad’s eyes almost came out on stalks when he saw us totter down the stairs in our high heels. ‘And just where on earth do you think you’re going, dressed like that?’ he asked.
‘Party,’ said Cat.
‘I don’t think so . . .’ Dad began.
‘Fancy dress,’ I said. ‘Vicars and Tarts, and I think you can tell that we’re not the vicars.’
He still didn’t seem too happy about it. ‘Put your coats on until you get there and I’ll drive you.’ He glanced anxiously at the three of us again. ‘And pick you up!’
I asked Dad to drop us on the corner of Kaylie’s road, as I didn’t want to draw attention to his Ferrari. As soon as he drove off, we whipped off our coats, applied a bit more rouge and red lipstick, then tottered up to Kaylie’s front door. Becca rang the bell.
A few moments later, a middle-aged lady with frizzy blond hair answered the door. She was wearing a tracksuit and smoking a cigarette. She looked horrified to see us standing there, giggling, on her doorstep.
She took a drag of her cigarette. ‘Yeah?’
Suddenly I had a sense of foreboding. There was no sound of music coming from inside or people’s voices. The house was quiet and I could see a flicker of light from a TV through the window at the front.
Becca and Cat began suspect something was up at the same time. ‘I . . . er, we thought there was a party here,’ said Becca.
‘Well, you thought wrong,’ said Mrs O’Hara, looking us up and down with disapproval. ‘And do your parents know that you’re out dressed like this?’
‘Um, we thought it was fancy dress,’ muttered Cat. ‘Sorry. Wrong house. Sorry to have bothered you.’
Mrs O’Hara shut the door without another word. She doesn’t look like a very friendly person, I thought, walking down the path towards the gate. Suddenly, I was blinded by a flash of light as someone leaped out of nowhere.
‘Smile for the camera,’ called Kaylie. As my eyes adjusted back to the dark, I could see that behind her were the Clones – Jackie, Fran and Susie. They were all laughing their heads off. Becca put her hand up to her face so that they couldn’t get another picture, but it was too late, Kaylie was clicking away as fast as she could.
Suddenly Becca made a bolt for her, but she wasn’t quick enough to get the camera. Kaylie ran for her front door and in a second, disappeared inside. The Clones raced down the road to the left and were out of sight in a minute.
‘Come on,’ cried Becca, setting off after them, ‘let’s get them.’
Cat and I tried to follow them, but in three-inch high heels, running was an impossibility. Cat collapsed into a privet hedge in someone’s front garden and starting laughing.
‘I can’t even walk in these things, never mind run,’ she moaned.
Becca came back to check that Cat was OK, then looked in the direction that the Clones had gone. ‘Oh, stuff them,’ said Becca. ‘They’re not worth it.’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Stuff them.’ She put her arm around me. ‘It doesn’t matter, Lia. Who needs Kaylie or her stupid friends anyway?’
‘Yeah,’ said Cat. ‘So she got us to dress up – like, very funny, ha ha.’
‘Yeah, pathetic,’ I agreed.
‘Let’s go back to yours, Lia, and have our own party,’ said Cat.
We all sat on the wall and, as I got out my mobile to call Dad, a green Fiesta drove past. It slowed down when the driver saw us.
‘Whey hey,’ called a boy in the passenger seat as he wound down his window. ‘Want to spend the rest of your lives with me, darlin’s?’
‘You couldn’t afford my dry cleaning, darling,’ Cat called back in a very posh voice.
When they realised that we weren’t interested, they drove off, thankfully. Cat and Becca began to laugh and I tried to join in, but my earlier sense of foreboding had deepened. Somehow I felt that this wasn’t the end of it.
THE FOLLOWING Monday, when I got into school, there was a crowd of people around the notice board in the corridor outside the assembly hall. There seemed to be a lot of giggling going on, so I went to see what the joke was. People often posted jokes that they’d found on the internet, although they didn’t last long up there, as usually one of the teachers saw them and took them down. As I approached, one of the boys in the crowd spotted me and nudged the person next to him. Suddenly, everyone went quiet. Kaylie, I thought immediately. Oh no, what has she done now? The crowd parted like a wave and I peered at the board to see what they’d all been looking at. Up on the board was a blown-up Polaroid of Cat, Becca and me, dressed in our tarts’ outfits. Underneath it, was written: The real Lia Axford and her mates. How the little Miss Perfects are out of school. We vote for Ophelia Axford as Slag of the Week. Sign here if you agree.’ There was a whole list of names and a few messages with boys’ phone numbers with invitations to call them.
Jerry Robinson from Year Eight whistled and winked. ‘Hey, Ophelia, I’ll have afeelofya. Get it?�
� he started laughing. ‘Ophelia, a feel of ya. And you look so quiet in school. Call me.’ Then he laughed. ‘No, on second thoughts, I’ll call you. Maybe.’
I tried to smile and make light of it, but inside I felt frozen. I couldn’t even cry. This was the last straw. I felt numb except for the knot in my stomach that felt tighter than ever. Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. As the crowd dispersed, I reached up to take down the photo. Just as I reached out, someone put a hand on my shoulder. It was Miss Segal.
‘I’ll take that,’ she said with a grim expression. She took the photo from the board and walked off without a second glance at me.
That’s it, I thought as I watched her walk away. My favourite teacher and now even she is going to think badly of me. I ran for the girls’ cloakrooms and luckily they were empty. The bell went for assembly and I could hear everyone outside heading for the hall. I went into the last cubicle and locked the door. I’d reached the end. I didn’t know how to be any more.
First, the boys here thought I was aloof, and now they thought that I was a slag. I’d tried standing up for myself. I’d tried being invisible. None of it had worked and now Kaylie had even got it in for Cat and Becca and it was all because of me. If I hadn’t come to this school, I thought, their photo wouldn’t be up on the notice board for the whole world to see. I felt a total failure. I’d let everyone down. I didn’t fit in here. And it was probably my fault. So that was it. I would definitely, definitely talk to Mum about leaving this horrible school and going back to my old one in London.
I decided to hide in the cubicle until assembly got going, then I would go home and beg Mum to let me leave here and never come back.
It was only a minute later that I heard the cloakroom door open then close. Like before, when Kaylie and her mates came in, I lifted my feet up so that no one would know I was in there. This is insane, I thought, I can’t stay at this school any longer. I can’t spend the rest of my school years hiding in the loos.
Whoever it was that had come in was looking in each cubicle. Oh, please don’t be Kaylie, I prayed. I didn’t think I could take any more of her abuse.
‘Lia, I know you’re in here.’
It was Squidge’s voice! What should I do, I asked myself . . . ? Maybe if I’m really quiet, he’ll go away. He reached the cubicle I was in and tried the door.
‘Lia?’
I tried not to breathe.
‘Lia. I know you’re in there. Look. No one takes Kaylie and her mob seriously. You mustn’t take it to heart. Honestly, no one gives a toss. Please come out.’
A moment later, the cloakroom doors opened again and I heard more footsteps.
‘Is she in here?’ asked Mac.
‘Lia?’ called Becca.
‘I think she’s in there,’ said Squidge.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to speak to them – I just couldn’t. I felt numb.
‘Hey, Lia,’ said Cat softly. ‘We know you’ve seen the photo. So they think they’ve made fools of us. It’s no biggie. We’re in this together. Please come out.’
‘Yeah, in fact,’ said Becca, ‘most people think she’s a sad loser, stooping to this last stunt. Come on, come out.’
I didn’t reply.
‘We’re not going to go away,’ said Squidge.
I heard footsteps go into the cubicle next door and it sounded like someone was hoisting themself up. Suddenly there was Becca’s face peering over the partition. She smiled. ‘Hey, we’ve got to stop meeting like this.’
‘Is she in there?’ asked Cat.
‘Yeah,’ said Becca. ‘Come on, Lia, come out. We can deal with this. Together. Come on.’
I felt so ashamed. So stupid and weak that I couldn’t be like them and just laugh it off.
‘Come on,’ said Becca. ‘You can’t sit in here all day. Assembly will be over in a minute and people will start coming in before class.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ I whispered. I got up and unlocked the door. I still didn’t feel like going out, but on hearing the lock open, Cat pushed the door and came in and put her arm around me.
‘You’re bigger than this,’ she said. ‘Come on. We have to show them that it hasn’t got to us. We can’t let her win.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said again. ‘I wish I could be like you, but . . . I’m sorry. It’s like I’ve just, I dunno . . . I’m going to go back to my old school. I can’t take it here any more . . .’
Suddenly Mac stiffened and jerked his thumb towards the door. We all held our breath for a moment as we listened to the footsteps outside in the corridor. Click clack on the floor. Quick footsteps. Alert. Efficient. Not the footsteps of a schoolgirl or boy sauntering to or from assembly. The door opened. It was the headmistress.
‘Becca Howard. Why aren’t you in assembly? Jack Squires and Tom Macey! What are you doing in the girls’ cloakrooms? And who’s in that cubicle?’ She marched forward. ‘Cat Kennedy. Lia Axford.’ She sniffed the air. ‘You’ve not been smoking, have you?’
‘No, Miss,’ said Becca.
Mrs Harvey looked us all up and down. ‘I don’t expect this sort of behaviour from any of you lot. Don’t let me see it again!’
Then she turned on her spiky heels and left.
I was still ready to make a bolt for home, but Squidge wouldn’t let me leave.
‘You know that saying. Take a twig on its own and it’s easy to snap. Bind a few twigs together, not so easy to break. Five twigs, even more difficult. There’s you, me, Mac, Cat and Becca. They won’t break us if we stick together. You’re not alone in this. OK?’
‘OK . . .’ I said, with an attempt at a smile. Dear Squidge, I thought. He’s trying his best, and maybe even thought he fancied me, but he doesn’t know what I’m like. Pathetic. A loser. Can’t fight my own battles. Whingey, wet and full of self-pity. It’s best I’m out of here and out of all their lives.
Cat and Becca wouldn’t let me go. They marched me, one on either side, to the first class. Although Kaylie and the Clones sniggered when we walked in, it didn’t matter any more. I’d decided. Her, her clones and this horrible episode were soon going to be nothing more than a bad memory. Three classes to sit through: double English, then drama with Miss Segal. Then at lunch, I’d slip away. I’d go back to my old school and, at last, the nightmare would be over for good.
‘OK, CLASS,’ said Miss Segal, looking around the room. I tried not to meet her eyes as I felt embarrassed about the photo she’d taken from the board. ‘Today I want to do something a bit different. I know we’ve done scripts in the past, we’ve looked at other people’s words, other people’s ideas. Today, we going to free things up a bit.’
I was hardly listening. In my head, I was calling my old mates in London – Tara, Athina, Gabby, Sienna, Olivia, Isobel and Natalie. I hoped they would still be my friends when I went back to my old school, and that they’d still like me and accept me and not pick up on the fact that, somehow, I’d become a loser.
‘Lia?’ asked Miss Segal. ‘Are you with us today?’
I nodded. ‘Sorry. Yes. Just thinking.’
Kaylie sniggered. It didn’t bother me. You’re history, I thought. I only have to get through this last class, then I’ll never ever have to see you or your stupid friends ever again.
‘Right,’ continued Miss Segal. ‘We’re going to do some role-play situations. I’ll need a couple of volunteers, then I’ll set the scene and we’ll see where it takes us. The idea is to improvise. I’m not going to tell you what to say or do, just see what comes into your head.’
Count me out, I thought. One thing I will not be doing today is volunteering for anything like that. Sounds like my worst nightmare.
‘OK. First scenario,’ said Miss Segal. ‘Two people who have some kind of a relationship. What it is, our volunteers have to decide. It can be sisters, family, business partners, whatever. It can be at home, in an office, school . . . you choose, and the rest of us will try and work out what the relationship is. OK. Who’s up?’
&
nbsp; Mary Andrews and Mark Keegan put their hands up. I watched as though from a distance as they enacted a scene in a bank. It was quite clear. Mark was the manager and Mary was a customer. I wasn’t really interested. I looked at my watch. Thirty-five minutes to go until lunch-time. Then I was out of here.
After Mark and Mary had done their role-play, Miss Segal stood up again. ‘Good,’ she said. ‘Now let’s make it more interesting. The essence of all good drama is conflict. And how do you create that?’
‘Fight, Miss,’ said Joanne Nesbitt.
‘Arguments,’ said Bill Malloy.
‘Yes, but what causes those arguments in the first place?’ asked Miss Segal.
No one answered.
‘Conflict of some sort,’ said Miss Segal. ‘By putting opposites together we can create that. For example, put two non-smokers on a train. What do we have?’
‘People with something in common,’ said David Alexander.
‘OK. Two smokers together?’ asked Miss Segal.
‘A smoky compartment,’ said Mark Keegan.
Miss Segal laughed. ‘Yes, but again, we have two people who get on. Now. Put a smoker and a non-smoker in a room together and what do we have?’
Becca gave Kaylie a dirty look. ‘Conflict,’ she said.
‘That’s right. Can anyone think of any other opposites?’
‘Vegetarian and meat-eater,’ said Sunita Ahmed.
‘Good. Any others?’
‘Different religions, different politics . . .’ said Laura Johnson.
‘That’s it. Now you’re getting it.’
‘Rich and poor,’ said Cat.
‘Popular and not popular,’ sneered Kaylie, with a side glance at me.
‘Winner and loser,’ said Susie.
‘Excellent. So, for our next scenario,’ continued Miss Segal, ‘I want two boys.’
Peter Hounslow and Scott Parker got up and went to the front.
‘OK, boys, this time I want you to play opposites. You choose who and where. Let it evolve and let’s see what happens.’
Teen Queens Page 8
