Project Best Friend

by Chrissie Perry

  ‘It’s very weird for you to bail like that. You’ve helped with practically every fundraiser the Parents Committee has come up with. You’ve done even more than I have. I checked with Gwen.’

  Penelope tilted her head to the side. Gwen had been on the Parents Committee ever since Penelope first started school. Which was a little strange, since her kids had finished primary school years ago. But Gwen was very nice and very dedicated. Penelope had a sneaking suspicion that she stayed on the committee because it made her feel needed. ‘So you’re not angry with me?’ she asked.

  All the clues suggested that he wasn’t, but Penelope wanted to be extra sure. Being extra sure would make it slightly easier to go back into the classroom after her outburst.

  ‘Nup,’ Oscar said. His mouth stretched into a wide grin. ‘I reckon you deserve a second chance. But just so you know, I signed you up for the next three fundraisers.’

  Penelope smiled back.

  Usually she found it annoying the way Oscar popped up everywhere. But she was very, very glad he’d popped up now.

  Penelope was already at her table when the other girls came in from lunch. Oscar had walked in with her, but now he was at his own table, all the way across the room. For some reason that seemed much further away than usual.

  Penelope made a very big effort to sit up straight. Probably the best thing would be if everyone tried to forget what had happened. She even attempted a smile as Eliza and Rita walked through the door.

  But her smile was not returned. In fact, although it was hard to be sure, Penelope thought she saw Rita roll her eyes. Which would have been very rude.

  Penelope definitely felt bad about her explosion. She wished that, if she’d had to explode, it could at least have been about something important. Like the girls taking over her tour of the school. If that had happened, though, things would probably be even worse right now.

  Penelope kept smiling as Bob entered the classroom with Joanna.

  But she didn’t get a chance to see Bob’s expression, because Ms Pike spotted them.

  ‘You girls look like you’ve taken a tumble or two,’ she said. ‘Perhaps you could step outside and brush yourselves off before you spread half the oval in here?’

  Joanna giggled. She turned to face Penelope and cupped her hand over the side of her mouth so Ms Pike couldn’t see. But Penelope definitely saw. Joanna poked her tongue out at Penelope, then headed out of the classroom.

  Joanna poked her tongue out quite frequently. In fact, tongue poking was something Joanna seemed quite passionate about. She had several different versions, from making a point at the end to a whole rolled tongue. It was disgusting, but Penelope had almost become used to it. Almost.

  This time it bothered Penelope a lot.

  Penelope looked at the clock above Ms Pike’s desk. There were still ninety-three minutes of class to get through. She pressed her lips together to get rid of the wobble. Then she got on with her work.

  For the rest of the day, Penelope worked hard and didn’t talk to anyone. Occasionally, she found herself staring at Bob’s back. In fact, Penelope could tell anyone, if they asked, how many freckles were on Bob’s neck. She could also tell Ms Pike that Bob was wearing a chain around her neck (if she wanted to, which she didn’t – even though it was against school rules).

  Bob’s chain made Penelope think of some of the charms she’d made. And that it might be better to give Bob the frog or perhaps the mini-bicycle, instead of earrings, since she didn’t have her ears pierced. Penelope let out a sigh. It seemed that giving Bob her best-friend gift (absolutely free) was a long way off. Perhaps it would never, ever happen.

  It also seemed (from the back, at least) as though Bob was getting on well with Eliza and Alison. Penelope could see that Alison, in particular, was being very chatty. When Alison talked she often moved her head from side to side. It was very hard to watch, and Penelope took far too long to complete the book quiz Ms Pike had set. She came second to Felix Unger, a boy who sat at Oscar’s table. Felix Unger was the best basketball player in the whole year. He was good at English, too, but not normally good enough to beat Penelope.

  After the final bell rang, Penelope waited for everyone to leave the classroom before packing up her things. In the corridor, past the lockers, Oscar was standing with Felix Unger, a basketball in his arms. Felix had one foot out the door, as though he was desperate to get out on the court. But Oscar was holding his arm. Penelope suddenly realised that Oscar was making Felix wait for her.

  Oscar narrowed his eyes, looking at Penelope in a concerned way. He seemed to be checking that she was OK.

  ‘I’m going to go and shoot a few hoops with the Unger,’ he said. ‘You know, give him a few tips on how it’s done.’

  Despite the terrible day she’d had, Penelope felt a little smile creep onto her lips. A smile that wasn’t stitched on.

  ‘Wanna come, Penny?’ he asked.

  Penelope shook her head. Felix ran off straight away, but Oscar lingered for a second. A second was all Penelope needed.

  ‘I have things I need to do. But thanks for asking, Oscar Finley,’ she whispered in his ear.

  As Penelope walked towards the school gate, she looked over at the basketball court. Felix was pointing at a spot on the backboard, clearly telling Oscar where to aim.

  Oscar’s first shot fell short. So did his second. But the third shot went in, not even touching the sides of the ring. Without planning to, Penelope clapped. Oscar must have heard, because he turned and gave her a wonky bow.

  Penelope was very surprised how much watching Oscar try and succeed (and perhaps also that wonky bow) puffed out her heart and rallied her spirit.

  Yes, there had been a setback in Project Best Friend. OK, a few setbacks. One part of Penelope felt like the project had totally failed. But another part of her remembered that people who strive for excellence do not give up easily.

  Mobile phones were not allowed in school, but as soon as she left the school grounds, Penelope pulled out her phone, switched it on and texted Grandpa George.

  Penelope kept her phone in her hand as she walked home, waiting for a response. She stopped outside her favourite house and sighed deeply. Recently, a ‘for sale’ sign had appeared out the front. Penelope had taken a photo of the sign and sent it to her dad just in case he wanted to buy the house. Unfortunately he did not.

  The house was painted white, with a huge bay window upstairs that made Penelope think of princesses and very long hair.

  The ‘for sale’ sign had been there for a couple of weeks. But today, there was a sticker on the sign that said SOLD.

  Penelope started to walk faster. Honestly, some days it was extremely difficult to hold onto her hopes.

  Penelope’s phone rang just as she was walking past the park. A picture of Grandpa George, with his big smile and his grey-speckled handlebar moustache, appeared on the screen. There were some children over in the rotunda, but both the swings were empty, so Penelope went over and sat down.

  ‘Sorry darling,’ Grandpa George said. ‘I just got your text. I’ve been in my dream analysis group.’

  Penelope heard him say goodbye to his old friend Fred. Grandpa had once told her that Fred dreamed he was flying almost every night. The only thing that changed was the scenery below him. Fred said it was like travelling the world without ever having to buy a plane ticket. It seemed very lovely and funny to Penelope, and made her like Fred very much.

  ‘Tell Fred happy travels from me,’ Penelope said. She waited a moment while Grandpa delivered the message.

  ‘Fred says you’re a treasure,’ he relayed. ‘And I’ll second that.’

  Penelope smiled but her smile was small. It was good to know that Grandpa and his friends thought she was a treasure, but most girls had people their own age who thought they were great.

  ‘Sweetheart,’ Grandpa said, ‘you can’t change your star sign. But there are many good things about being a Gemini. Are you having an existential crisis?
’

  Penelope had never heard the word ‘existential’ before. She had no idea what it meant. But that often happened with Grandpa, so Penelope had learned to make a good guess based on the words she did know. And she definitely knew what a crisis was.

  Penelope let her legs dangle under the swing while she told Grandpa what had happened. She left out certain bits. For instance, she didn’t tell him about Project Best Friend because it would be too embarrassing to admit (even to Grandpa George) that she had to work so terribly hard just to make one single best friend. But she did tell him about Bob and the tour and the outburst.

  Grandpa George was an excellent listener. It wasn’t just that he listened to the words she was saying. It was the way he listened between the words.

  ‘Darling, can you hold on a moment?’ he said, when Penelope had finished. ‘I’m just going to check your chart.’

  While she waited, Penelope pushed off with her feet and started swinging. She could hear the rustle of papers as Grandpa George went through her charts. There was no telling how long he would be.

  When Penelope looked up again, there was a little girl standing in front of her. She was wearing a frilly T-shirt and a denim pinafore. Her fine hair was in a fountain top knot.

  Penelope supposed she was about three years old. Her half-sister Sienna was three years, two months and eight days old, so Penelope was basing her guess on that.

  ‘Can you push me?’ the little girl said, pointing at the empty swing next to Penelope.

  Penelope nodded, but before the little girl could clamber up, the little girl’s mother came and whisked her away.

  Suddenly Penelope felt lonelier than ever. She realised she hadn’t seen Sienna for a very long time. Penelope was very glad when her grandpa came back on the phone.

  ‘All right, my love,’ Grandpa George said. ‘There’s some indication here that you’ve been swimming upstream.’

  ‘Grandpa, I haven’t been swimming at all,’ Penelope said, confused.

  Grandpa George laughed. ‘What that means, love,’ he said, ‘is that maybe you’ve been trying too hard. All indicators on your chart say the best thing right now is to go with the flow.’

  Penelope walked home considering what Grandpa had said. She thought she might even discuss the matter with her mum. But when she got home, her mum and Harry were on the couch, glued to a TV show where people dare each other to do strange and dangerous things. They were laughing uproariously (though honestly, Penelope had no idea why), and Penelope didn’t want to interrupt.

  Alone in her bedroom, Penelope sat at her lovely white dressing table drawing sketches of jewellery she would like to make in the future. It was a very calming activity – even though some of her Derwents were stubby. While some of Penelope’s brain was busy with Creative Ideas, another part now felt free to think about Grandpa’s suggestion.

  The idea of going with the flow seemed very difficult. She was used to trying exceptionally hard and getting excellent results. She wasn’t the type to just let things happen. But Grandpa George’s charts were (mostly) accurate, and filled with very good suggestions.

  As she finished a sketch of a bow tie with polka dots that would most likely become a terrific badge, Penelope felt that she could actually do this thing.

  Tomorrow she would just have to try exceptionally hard to not try at all. She was going to go with the flow.

  The next morning, Penelope woke at the usual time to the soothing strums of her harp alarm. She was quite surprised when she peeked into Harry’s room and saw that he was already up, and most likely on his way to soccer practice. The second surprise was her mum’s clompy footsteps coming down the hall.

  Suddenly the idea of being woken by her mum seemed very appealing (even though it wasn’t really being woken, given that she was already awake), so Penelope jumped back into bed and pulled the cover over her head.

  ‘Morning, Poss,’ her mum said, peeling the covers down to Penelope’s chin. ‘You slept through your alarm. Are you OK?’

  Penelope frowned. Now that it was morning, she felt anxious all over again. If the girls were still cross with her, today would be absolutely horrible, too. Her confidence from last night had faded. Suddenly, she wasn’t sure she’d be any good at going with the flow. And besides, what if she did manage to go with the flow, and Bob noticed her less, not more?

  Penelope had heard that some kids occasionally had a day off school even if they weren’t actually sick. Perhaps it was because they had a problem and could better think of a solution from home. She decided to mention this fact to her mum.

  ‘Honey, if you want to take the day off, that’s OK,’ her mum replied. ‘It’s not like you do it all the time. Maybe you could treat yourself? Stay in bed or watch TV.’

  Penelope noticed her mum looking at her watch. ‘Mum,’ she said, ‘are you late for something?’

  Penelope’s mum slowly rubbed her hands together. ‘The big boss is holding a meeting for all staff at 7.45,’ she said.

  Penelope’s eyes popped wide open. She quickly checked the time on her phone. Her mum had exactly twelve minutes to make it to work.

  ‘Go!’ Penelope said. ‘I’ll be fine.’

  As her mother left, she snuggled back under the covers and closed her eyes.

  Penelope jumped out of bed and started getting ready for school.

  First up in the morning was a maths test. Penelope felt lucky to be thinking about multiplication and division instead of the other girls being cross with her and going with the flow.

  After maths class came Penelope’s Least Favourite subject: Physical Education. There were only two cubicles in the girls toilets, so Penelope made sure to get there first so she could get changed in private. Even though she always wore bicycle shorts under her uniform, like most of the girls, she still had to take off her dress and put on her sports polo. She was just flattening down her collar when she heard some of the girls arrive. Through the gap under the cubicle door, Penelope deduced (by putting together several clues, such as shoe size and sock choice) that the feet belonged to Tilly, Bob, Rita and Joanna.

  ‘That test was super hard,’ came Tilly’s voice. ‘I reckon I got most of the answers wrong.’

  Penelope frowned. Tilly often thought she was going to do badly on tests and then did quite well. She almost piped up to remind Tilly of that, but she wasn’t sure if that was going with the flow, so she decided not to say anything.

  ‘It was soooo hard,’ she heard Joanna say. ‘Don’t you wish, just sometimes, that you had Penelope’s brain? You’d get everything right.’

  Penelope almost called out then. She got excellent results because she worked very hard. As Penelope had told her several times, Joanna was actually extremely clever. She just needed to focus. (Penelope knew this because she had coached Joanna in maths after school.) But before Penelope could say anything, Rita spoke.

  ‘Rubbish,’ she said. ‘Penelope doesn’t get everything right.’

  Penelope sat on the bench seat and lifted her feet up in front of her. Suddenly, it seemed very important that no-one knew she was there. Her heart flipped around in her chest like a fish. For a moment, she thought Rita was going to say something humiliating about the Harry/Hugo mistake.

  But what she said was worse.

  ‘Seriously, she totally cracked it yesterday, right? This is a silly game. It’s absolutely ri-di-cu-lous.’

  Penelope’s face was f laming. She hugged her legs and put her head down on her knees. The girls’ laughter seemed to go on forever.

  ‘Penelope is the queen of cracking it,’ Rita continued. ‘I can think of at least six times when she’s lost the plot. In prep –’

  ‘Gosh, it wasn’t that bad.’ Penelope was surprised to hear Bob’s voice cutting Rita off. ‘I mean, Penelope seems very nice. Her school tour was very helpful. And I’ve definitely had bigger tantrums than her Dodgeball one.’

  Penelope didn’t much like the reference to tantrums. She preferred to think of
what had happened as an outburst. Still, it was kind of Bob to understand that she was trying her best on the tour (which was difficult with the other girls barging in and being silly). And it was even kinder of Bob to stick up for Penelope – especially to Rita.

  ‘Yeah, she’s really nice,’ came Tilly’s voice. ‘Last week she gave me half of her lunch when I forgot mine. And she patted my back when I thought I was going to throw up after the cross-country run. She just does a wobbly-chuck every now and then.’

  ‘Well,’ Bob said, and Penelope thought she could hear a smile in her voice, ‘out of ten, I’d give that wobbly-chuck a five. I’ve done way, way worse. Once I squished a sandwich in a boy’s face because he called me stupid. A jam sandwich. Now that was at least a seven.’

  The girls laughed again. Penelope wasn’t keen on the term ‘wobbly-chuck’ either, but she was beginning to feel much, much better.

  ‘Besides,’ Bob continued, ‘we all do stuff like that sometimes.’

  Rita piped up again. ‘In year two, some kids were mucking around and they spilled juice on Penelope’s work. She went bright red, and didn’t say anything for the rest of the day!’

  Penelope wondered if Rita had actually written a list of all her outbursts over the years, or if she’d stored them all up in her head.

  ‘That’s actually so true, Bob,’ Tilly said. Penelope was pleased that Tilly was ignoring Rita’s comment. ‘Like, for instance, you have a bad temper too, don’t you Jo? Remember when you screamed your head off at the boys because they won that netball match?’

  ‘Yeah, and when you’re mad you go all sooky, Tilly,’ Joanna replied. ‘You bawled your eyes out that time Felix knocked your arm and you dropped your pink doughnut in the dirt!’

  ‘I just have overactive tear ducts,’ said Tilly, but she sounded amused, rather than cross. ‘Anyway, that was years ago.’