Chapter 1
“My next guest is a woman who claims her husband, the father of her three young children, has been unfaithful to her with numerous other women. He says she is paranoid and obsessive, but who is right? Let’s meet Kirsty and find out!”
I lounged on the sofa in my pyjamas and watched with disinterest as Kirsty stalked onto the stage and began to rave about how disloyal and irresponsible her husband supposedly was. The talk show host was about to bring Kristy’s husband out to hear his side of the story when my brother staggered into the room, wearing ratty pyjama bottoms and an old t-shirt, a plate of fresh toast in his hand.
“I’m so tired,” Aaron complained as he flopped onto the sofa next to me, almost dropping his toast as he bounced on the soft cushions. His gaze flicked to the television screen, where Kirsty and her husband circled each other menacingly.
“Haven’t you already seen this episode of the Jeremy Kyle Show?”
I nodded.
“They never show anything new or interesting on a Sunday morning. Anyway, it’s funny when they try and fight.”
Right on cue, Kirsty grabs her husband in a headlock while he drives his knee into her stomach. They both go sprawling and bouncers rush in to break up the fight.
“That’s what happens in every episode. They’re all the same. A troubled couple comes to air their problems on national television, scream at each other and try to fight before Jeremy sends them off to a marriage counsellor to sort out their multitude of issues.”
“Don’t forget the lie detector test,” I added, “someone always takes the lie detector test.”
“Or a paternity test.”
“But there’s never a lie detector test and a paternity test in the same episode. So as you see, there is a certain degree of variation, so they aren’t all the same.”
“There isn’t much variation. You’ll probably burn your brain cells watching such a stupid programme.”
“You’re watching it too...”
We were still bickering when a lanky figure dressed in sports clothes appeared in the doorway.
“Hey guys,” Eddie grinned, taking in our pyjamas and bed hair, “I see you’re using the last day of the holidays constructively.”
“You can hardly call it the last day yet,” Aaron retorted, “it’s practically still Saturday night. We’re allowed to be lazy.”
Eddie glanced at the large silver watch on his wrist.
“It’s 11am.”
“Yep,” Aaron nodded, “I told you it was the middle of the night. Why are you here at such an unreasonable hour?”
Eddie had been Aaron’s best friend for as long as I could remember which was long enough for him to be trusted with the location of our spare key (under the plant pot outside the front door), which he often uses to let himself in while our parents are at work.
“I was wondering if either of you were up for a spot of tennis?”
He leaned forward, pulling a tennis racket out from behind his back and brandished it like a sword. Aaron leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes.
“Don’t you know us at all, Edward? We aren’t sporty like you are. No matter how many times you invite us to participate in physical activities we will always say no.”
“I thought you liked tennis! You played wii tennis with me!”
“That was different. I could play that sitting on the sofa.”
“Aw, come one. It’s a summer sport! You should get out and enjoy the sun while you can!”
“We live in Britain, there is no sun. Especially not now, during the night. How will you even see the ball?”
Eddie ambled to the window and opened the blinds. Sunlight flooded the room, which had previously been lit by the blue glow of the TV. Aaron hissed and flung his arm over his eyes.
“No way. I’m not going.”
Eddie turned to me, twirling his racket in his hand.
“How about you, Lily? Up for a game of tennis?” he flashed his familiar crooked smile. “I’ll go easy on you.”
While I wasn’t as opposed to the outdoors as Aaron, I was too clumsy and uncoordinated for sports. I decided to let Eddie down gently.
“I’m afraid I can’t today.”
“Why not?”
“It’s a Sunday. The day of rest. We should all be at home. Resting.”
“Aw, come on. God won’t begrudge you a game of tennis.”
“I wouldn’t want to risk His wrath.”
Eddie sighed.
“What about tomorrow then? You should come to the tennis club after school. I get to be a coach this year, along with this guy from Sweden who’s coming here for the term to improve his English. He must be a really good player, he’s going pro this year.”
I wasn’t entirely sure what “going pro” meant but I didn’t want Eddie to feel disheartened that he hadn’t managed to persuade anyone to join his tennis club, so I said,
“We’ll see.”
Which was a polite way of saying no.
2: Chapter 2Chapter 2
“You’ll never guess what!”
I looked up from where I was standing, playing a game of “Battleships” on my phone, outside the school gates at the familiar sound of my best friend’s voice.
“You’ll have to give me a clue so I have a chance of guessing right!”
The scowl on Freya’s face told me she wasn’t in the mood for jokes.
“Have you been on Facebook recently?” she asked me.
“Yeah, I was on yesterday afternoon-”
“No, this happened at 1:03 this morning!”
“Oh, I must have overslept and missed it.”
Freya glared at me, her furrowed brows almost touching.
“Sorry,” I offered a smile, “What happened at 1:03 this morning?”
“Veronica posted on Greg’s wall!”
She flapped her arms in disbelief. Freya has fancied Greg for ages and hates it when other girls show any interest in him.
“What did she say?” I asked.
“Can’t wait to see you tomorrow xxx” Freya squeaked in a high pitched voice, that sounded nothing like the baritone Veronica.
I gasped.
“She put kisses on it!?”
“Three of them!”
“What did he say?”
“Nothing! He didn’t reply!”
“He left her hanging?” I whistled, “She put three kisses on a message that everybody can see but he didn’t respond?”
Freya nodded.
“He’s clearly not interested then!” I bumped her arm playfully, “He was probably scared off by her ugly horse teeth.”
Freya ran her tongue over her own teeth, not looking convinced.
“But something must have happened between them over the holidays to make her send him a message like that in the first place! What if they’re together now and he just hasn’t been on Facebook to see it yet? What if-”
I waved my hand dismissively, cutting her off before she could start to hyperventilate.
“Don’t worry about it. We’d better go inside, or we’ll miss assembly.”
I led the way round the side of the building to the student entrance, while Freya babbled about how she should have talked to Greg more last term. I reassured her that she had way better teeth than Veronica as we joined the flow of students streaming through the double doors. We fought our way through the throng until we reached the large, echoing gym where the entire student population was congregating to be welcomed back.
“Freya! Lily!”
A small, dark figure waved to us from where the girls in our year had gathered.
“Hey, Maggie,” we greeted our friend in unison.
“How was your trip to Shanghai?” I asked.
A huge grin spread across her oriental features.
“It was absolutely amazing! I got to meet my aunt and uncle, they were really nice,” she gushed, as the headmaster shuffled behind the podium at the front of the room. The babble of chatter that had filled the hall died down as he tapped the microphone with one wizened finger.
“Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen,” he rasped, “I hope you all had a relaxing break and are ready for a lot of hard work and even more academic success!”
He smiled, exposing a pair of pearly white dentures, but his attempt at cheerfulness was not reciprocated.
“I hope the uniform regulations are still fresh in your minds, after two weeks of choosing your own attire. I see an awful lot of short skirts and loose ties when I look around this room. Why, in my day we...”
He rambled on for what felt like hours about what life had been like for him back in the Stone Age, before he finally wheezed off and let a member of the P.E. staff list all the sporting activities that would be available to us this term in a gloomy monotone. I didn’t care about sports day or cross country trails so I let my mind wander and compared my new black pumps with the shoes worn by the girls standing near me.
“Hello,” a deep voice reverberated around the hall, “I will be helping out at your tennis club this summer. I hope many of you will attend, this is a fantastic opportunity to get involved with such a wonderful sport...”
I was drawn out of my fantasy of stealing Marie Gardner’s lovely kitten heels, and craned my neck to see who the voice belonged to. It had spoken far too enthusiastically to belong to a teacher.
My breath caught in my throat as Marie bowed her head, providing me with a clear view of the speaker. He certainly wasn’t a teacher. He couldn’t have been older than seventeen, about the same age as my brother, but the similarities between the two ended there. This boy was extremely tall and muscular, his skin pale and unblemished. His clearly defined jaw showed no trace of stubble and his eyelashes were long and golden. He had hair the colour of sand in the midday sun, that curled slightly at the nape of his slender neck. Despite all this, it was his eyes that really caught my attention, as clear and blue as the sky on a cloudless day. I felt my heart skip a beat.
“My name is Erik Björkland,” he said in a lilting accent, “I come from Gothenburg, in Sweden. I hope to improve my English here, so I can go on to play tennis in international events without being hindered by language barriers.”
He smiled bashfully and bowed his head slightly, seemingly embarrassed.
“His English is already perfect, if you ask me,” Freya whispered in my ear.
“Everything about him is already perfect, if you ask me,” I replied.
“Anyway, thank you for listening; I hope to see you out on the tennis court.”
Erik slipped out from behind the podium and moved to stand with the P.E. staff. I sighed and watched him run his fingers through his hair, before Marie moved her head again and obscured my vision.
“You’ll certainly see me out on the tennis court,” I murmured.
3: Chapter 3Chapter 3
"Are you sure?" Freya's grey eyes were filled with concern as she slammed her locker closed and pocketed the key.
"Totally," I replied, frantically searching through my own locker in the hopes of finding a calculator for my impending maths class, "what harm could it do?"
"You've never played tennis before in your life! What if you trip? What if you fall? What if you're completely hopeless at it? You'll only end up embarrassing yourself in front of him!"
I rolled my eyes.
"How hard can it be? I've played wii tennis before, and I got a high score."
"You sound like Aaron."
"Well," I started shaking my history textbook to see if my calculator had got caught inside it, "we are related. We're bound to have some things in common."
Freya chewed her lip and wrung her hands together.
"What? Spit it out?"
"It's just that... isn't it a bit desperate? To join the tennis club to try and get the new guy to notice you?"
"To get the new super fit guy to notice me," I corrected.
"But..." Freya was interrupted by the clacking of high heeled shoes on the linoleum floor that lined the corridor. We both looked up to see Claudia McWilliams stalking towards us in her stiletto heels, her peroxide blond hair flowing behind her. Her already short skirt had been rolled up at the waist, exposing more of her legs than was appropriate in an educational institute, and the top four buttons of her blouse were undone. Boys gazed slack-jawed as she passed them by, flanked by the cronies who had modelled themselves in her image, one of whom was Veronica Winkle, Freya's newfound love rival. They drew to a halt two lockers down from where we were standing, but instead of using this free period between classes to gather their books and rush unfinished homework assignments, they started to do their nails.
"So," Claudia leaned back against the lockers, her chest thrust forward, and began jabbing at her cuticles with a pointed wooden stick, "we just got back from Paris, like, two days ago and I am so, totally jet lagged."
Her entourage nodded sympathetically, none of them bothering to point out that Paris is only a two hour flight away.
"But, I guess it was worth it because Chanel just launched their new sports line. I wasn't too bothered when Daddy first mentioned it to me, but I'll need all the sportswear I can get if I'm going to take up tennis."
She tossed her hair and smiled, oblivious to my venomous glare. Freya shot me a look.
"That Swedish babe won't know what's hit him."
The Claudia crones giggled pathetically but were cut off by a squeal, as Veronica spilled red nail polish on her skirt. Freya smirked, while Claudia sighed dramatically.
"Ohhh myyy God, Ronnie," she drawled, "I told you not to start, like, painting your nails in the hallway but you never listen. You'd better go to the bathroom and wash it off before anybody half decent sees you. But I guess Greg won't care, he's so far down the social food chain."
Claudia cackled at her own joke before sashaying off in the direction of the girls' toilets, her cronies flocking behind her.
"I can't believe her! Greg is not at 'the bottom of the social food chain'!" Freya exclaimed, "Just because he's not sporty or rich or..."
"Good looking?" I suggested.
"Conventionally handsome."
"Not conventionally handsome meaning not good looking at all?"
Freya looked offended.
"Greg is cute. He has the most adorable nose! And his eyes!”
I closed the door of my locker, giving up the hunt for my calculator. Surely Mr Hughes wouldn't make too much of a fuss on the first day back.
"I'll come with you to the tennis club."
"Really? Why?"
"I've had a change of heart," a shadow crossed Freya's face, "we can't let Claudia get her claws into Erik. She doesn't deserve him. She doesn't deserve anyone. She's an absolute witch. Look at those silly girls fawning around her and those boys gawping at her. Nobody's ever stood in her way of getting what she wants before. It's up to us to take her down a peg or two."
"I had no idea you were so full of hate. Is this just because of what she said about Greg?" I asked.
"No, of course not."
I raised my eyebrows.
"Ok, fine, I didn't like her anti-Greg comment but I still stand by the rest of it. She's awful and you deserve a better boyfriend than her. And I have to admit, Erik is rather fit."
"Rather, indeed. So, you'll really come to the tennis club with me?"
Freya nodded.
"On one condition."
"Name it."
"You have to come to the circus with me on Saturday night."
"The circus? What do you want to go to the circus for?"
Freya looked sheepish.
"I see," I nodded, "and how exactly do you know Greg is going to be there? Does he have a part time job as a clown?"
"He tweeted that he was taking his little sister to it. There'll be a big top in the park at the bottom of town all weekend."
"Great, that saves us having to get the bus and-"
A sweaty hand clamped down over my mouth. I struggled against it initially, but gave up when the stench of garlic reached my nostrils. I was in no real danger.
"Aha! I have captured the beast! You are safe, my love!"
Freya sighed.
"What are you doing, Stanley?"
"Protecting you from this foul creature to prove my love and earn your favour!"
"You're never going to earn my favour when you insult my friends."
Stanley dropped his hand from my face and shoved past me to get to Freya. I breathed deeply through my mouth as Stanley grasped my best friend's hand.
"I thought of you every hour we were parted! I would have died without my memories of your glorious eyebrows and the time I got to correct your geography test paper! I was kept going by my fantasies of this day, when our souls would be reunited after I defeated the hideous dragon that has always stood between our love!"
Freya pulled her hand free from Stanley's greasy grip.
"A million things stand between our love, Stanley. Leave us alone!"
Stanley twitched and wiped sweat from his hairy upper lip. I breathed through my nose and struggled not to gag as I was hit by the smell of garlic he emitted.
"But I saved you from the dragon! Just like I saved the entire nation of Helzorg on Dragon Slayers 3!"
"The dragon wasn't bothering me. Now leave."
Stanley snapped his fingers.
"Curses! The dragon must still have a hold over your mind, even after it's defeat. But I'll be back! You haven't seen the last of me!"
Stanley turned and marched off down the corridor, pulling at his lank, greasy hair, his long leather coat billowing behind him. I stifled a laugh.
"Why me? He's been like this since the start of high school. Why does he always think he's in love with me?" Freya asked.
"Why does he always think I'm a monstrous creature, influencing your thoughts?"
"That's the one thing he is right about."
Freya smiled.
"He really is annoying, though. Not to mention creepy."
"That flasher coat doesn't help matters much."
We both laughed as the bell rang, signalling the end of break.
I couldn't stop thinking about Erik as the day dragged slowly by. I thought about him in maths, where it turned out Mr Hughes did care that I'd forgotten my calculator and made me sit beside the biggest waster in the class, as an unspoken punishment. I would be subjected to Anthony Walker's pathetic jokes and dirty stories for the rest of the year.
"Hey, Lily," he said, as I slumped in the seat next to him, glaring at the back of Mr Hughes bald head, "wanna know what I did over the holidays?"
"What did you do over the holidays, Anthony?"
"Your mum!"
He cracked up laughing.
I daydreamed about Erik's lovely eyes in French, a class I took with Maggie, who told me whispered stories of Shanghai that I paid little attention to. I scanned the lunch time crowds in the cafeteria for Erik's hulking frame, but he wasn't there. I imagined what he would look like wearing medieval armour in History. I fantasised about our wedding in Physics. By the time four o'clock came around, I was nervous about going to the tennis club. I could only hope that reality matched up to my expectations.
4: Chapter 4~~Chapter 4
I peered at my reflection in the grimy mirror that hung on the wall of the girls’ changing rooms. My P.E. shirt made me look fat. My skirt was too big and hung loosely off my hips. My ponytail was messy and made my ears stick out. A huge, red spot was starting to appear at the end of my nose.
“Come on!” Freya tugged at my arm, “Everybody else has already left! What will Erik think if you’re late to the first tennis club meeting of the year?”
I shook her off and tried to squeeze the spot before it developed into a second nose.
“Don’t do that!”
Freya slapped my hand away.
“You’ll make it worse, squeezing it like that. It’ll look really red and ooze slime everywhere, and if your fingernails are dirty it could get infected and you might have to get your nose amputated to stop the infection spreading and killing you!”
“There would be perks to having no nose,” I muttered, “Nobody could say I had a big nose, it couldn’t get spotty and I wouldn’t have to worry about it getting broken during a rugby match. Then again, I wouldn’t want to be mistaken for Lord Voldemort.”
Freya looked startled.
“When have you played rugby?”
I shook my head.
“Only hypothetically. What am I going to do? I can’t go out and face Erik like this! I look like a troll that just crawled out from under a bridge! He’ll never look at me! Even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to see me past this!”
I gestured frantically at the zit.
“You look fine,” Freya soothed, “If he’s worth his salt, he won’t care what you look like. Boys should like you for your personality, not appearance. Even boys that look like Stefan Edburg.”
“But, surely, Greg cares about your appearance? You instant messaged me last week to say you had started carrying lipgloss everywhere with you, because you didn’t want him to see your dry, shrivelled lips if you ever ran into him.” I sniffed.
“That’s not the point!” Freya snapped, “Lipgloss just... hydrates my lips.”
“If you say so,” I decided to change the subject, “Who’s Stefan Edburg?”
Freya shrugged.
“Some Swedish tennis player my mum fancies. She says he was well fit, back in the day.”
“I don’t want to go.”
I threw myself down onto one of the rickety wooden benches that were dotted around the changing room. It juddered beneath my weight.
“Why not?”
“I can’t compete with Claudia when I look like a frump who has a red traffic light sticking out of her nose.”
“Of course you can! You’re a strong, independent woman who can overcome obstacles to get what she wants. Claudia is a spoilt daddy’s girl who has more money than sense and as much personality as a brick wall! What could he possibly see in her?”
“Good looks, wealth, social standing...” I counted on my fingers, “Plus perfect skin and a great nose!”
“Pfft, we can fix your nose!”
“Are you a plastic surgeon? Can you give me liposuction and a face lift while you’re at it?”
Freya ignored my comments and rummaged in her bag.
“Aha!”
She pulled out a stick of concealer and waved it triumphantly above her head.
“Of course, it’s for my skin tone but I’m sure it’ll look fine on you.”
Her long brown hair tickled my face as she tilted my chin up to the florescent light and dabbed my nose with make-up.
“There!” she exclaimed half heartedly, eyeing her handiwork warily.
“Freya!” I gasped, as I looked in the mirror, “What have you done!?”
We both stared at my reflection. The make-up, which looked at home on Freya’s tanned skin, looked orange against my paper white complexion.
“It doesn’t look that bad...” Freya said, unconvincingly, “It’s better than it was before.”
“Better!? It looks like an amber traffic light now! It draws people’s attention to it even more!”
Freya took a step backwards and tilted her head to one side.
“You know, from a distance, it just looks like a freckle.”
I snorted.
“Yeah? One, really giant freckle?”
“Well, it would be more believable if you had more...”
Five minutes later, Freya had dotted “freckles” all over my nose and across my cheeks.
“I look like I have the measles,” I sighed, “I definitely can’t go out like this. Let’s just go home. Claudia has already won, Erik is hers.”
Before Freya could reply, the door banged open, causing us both to jump.
“What are you doing in here?” Ms Montgomery barked, her hands on her wide hips.
“Just getting ready for tennis, Miss.”
“Tennis?” She looked at the enormous sports watch on her fat wrist, “that started fifteen minutes ago! What have you been doing all this time? Out, out!”
She clapped her hands and ushered us out the door. Her beady gaze zoomed in on my nose as I scuttled past her. I kept my head down and walked as quickly as possible without looking suspicious, until we were outside.
“How can someone so short be so scary?” Freya asked as we power walked through the school grounds.
“How can she be fat if she’s a P.E. teacher?”
“Why hasn’t she retired yet?”
“Why did she get employed to teach girls physical education in the first place?”
“Gosh, lots of people must have come out for tennis, there’s hardly any rackets left!” Freya said, as we arrived at the sports storage shed.
“There are only these little ones left!”
I picked up one of the small rackets.
“It’s more like a ping pong bat than a tennis racket. Why would they make them so small?” I asked.
“I guess they’re for midgets. Or very young children.”
“Why didn’t we get here earlier? Then we could have gotten decent sized rackets,” I complained as we left the shed and rounded the corner to the tennis court. I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw how many people were crowded into the overflowing tennis court. There were at least fifty bodies running laps to warm up, all of them female.
“Why are there so many of them? What are all those girls doing here?”
“Come on,” Freya dragged me forwards, “Nobody will notice we’re late if we just tag along at the back.”
We slipped through the gate and joined the herd of girls galloping along.
“I heard he had a six pack,” the first year running in front of us told her friend.
“I heard it was an eight pack!”
“Sounds like they had the same idea as you,” Freya whispered in my ear, as I glared at the back of their silly pigtailed heads.
“Hey, Lily,” Eddie appeared beside me, his dark curls falling in his eyes as he slowed to a jog to keep pace with me, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I had a change of heart,” I gasped, finding it difficult to run and breathe simultaneously. I must be more unfit than I’d thought.
Eddie grinned.
“Did I win you round with my convincing speech?”
I shook my head, trying to catch my breath.
“I decided...to give this outdoors lark...a go,” I wheezed.
“Cool. You can play against me.”
Before I could protest, he detached himself from the throng of joggers and stood in the middle of the court.
“Ok, everyone,” he called, “pair up and try to start a rally.”
Freya gave me a look as Eddie beckoned me over. How was I going to get away from him to impress Erik?
“Why have you got that dinky little racket?” he asked as I dragged myself over to where he was standing, “And what happened to your face?”
I recoiled as he squinted at my nose. I’d forgotten about my freckles.
“I-I had an allergic reaction,” I lied, “to the new washing powder my mum bought. She washed my pillow case with it and poof!”
He laughed.
“Did you sleep face down?”
“Of course. Didn’t you?”
He chuckled and gave me a gentle shove.
“Go to the other side of the net. Since you’re only a newbie, I’ll even let you serve.”
“Woohoo,” I grumbled, as I trudged to the other side of the court, catching sight of Erik helping some silly giggling girls with their serve. I watched as he bounced up and down in the ready position and slammed the ball over the net with a sharp swish of his racket. He smiled shyly as the girls swooned around him, one of them even having the nerve to put her hand on his bicep.
“Any time today!” Eddie called.
He let me try to serve five times, but then he got tired of the ball hitting the net and decided to do it himself. It bounced straight past me. I ignored Eddie’s chatter about back hand serve, as he tried to explain how I should swing my miniature racket, choosing to watch Erik bound around the court instead. His muscles rippled as he ran from person to person, advising them about their technique and encouraging them when they did something write. I narrowed my eyes as he spent an awfully long time talking to Claudia, who swished her hair and batted her eyelashes, practically throwing herself on top of him. He ran a hand through his tousled blond hair, and backed away from her slightly. I smirked as a tennis ball flew out of nowhere and hit me in the face.
“I’m so sorry!” a red headed girl from the year below gushed, “I didn’t mean to hit you, I just-”
She stopped and peered into my face.
“Oh my goodness, did my ball do that to your nose?”
~~Chapter 5
I leaned my cheek against the cool stone of the wall and fanned my face with my right hand. It was swelteringly hot in the English corridor on the second day of term. Matters were not helped by the crowds jostling me as they hurried past on their way to class. I loosened my tie and listened to the gossip of my peers, while we huddled outside the classroom door, waiting for our Miss Stirling to arrive.
“I just love your shoes, Marie,” a snide voice said from behind me.
I glanced round to see Claudia inspecting one of Marie’s kitten heels with a cool, calculating gaze, the same heels I had admired just yesterday.
“They are absolutely darling.”
Marie flushed, clearly as surprised as I was that Claudia was voluntarily handing out compliments. What was wrong with her?
As if to answer my question, a blond head appeared at the end of the corridor, bobbing above the rest of the crowd.
“Erik!” Claudia squealed as he drew closer, “What are you doing here?”
Bah, I thought to myself, as if she didn’t know he was coming. She was only playing nice so he didn’t see her true colours.
“I am here to observe Miss Sterling’s lesson,” he told her, “to help with my English.”
My heart fluttered at the sound of his lilting accent. He even made Miss Sterling’s dreary English class sound exciting.
“Oh! Me too!” Claudia parted her carefully glossed lips as she feigned surprise.
I shook my head as Claudia looped her skinny arm around Erik’s elbow. She was as transparent as a shop window.
“Be my buddy?” she asked him, as Miss Sterling arrived to let us into the classroom.
I snorted as I picked up my bag and stepped over the threshold. Not on my watch. I hovered in the doorway as my classmates streamed past and claimed seats with their friends. I waited anxiously for Erik and Claudia to appear, so I could wrestle him off her and stop her polluting him with her poison. I jumped as a hand lightly touched my arm.
“Sit with me?” Marie asked, smiling shyly.
“Uh...”
I glanced between Marie’s honest face and the empty seats at the back of the classroom that Claudia was making a beeline for, Erik in tow behind her. There were only two seats. If I rushed to get there first, Erik could sit with me and Claudia with Marie. Or Claudia might end up beside me and Erik would be at the other side of the room. Or Claudia would uproot Marie and banish her to the seat next to me, while she could sit at the front and have Erik all to herself.
I sighed and forced my face into a smile.
“Sure.”
I would normally be glad to have someone nice like Marie to sit with in class, but I couldn’t help ignoring her attempt at conversation, choosing instead to twist in my seat to glare as Claudia swished her hair at Erik, laughing and giggling like there was no tomorrow.
“I hate this class, though,” she told him, “It is, like, so pointless. Who cares about books and poetry? It’s just, like, totally stupid.”
“I have to disagree,” Erik said, dreamily, “It is very important to be able to read, not just the words, but between the lines. You have to know what the writer is talking about, what they are trying to convey through their story or poem. It is an art. It is beautiful.”
I smirked as Claudia turned pink.
“Right, class.”
Miss Sterling dumped her armful of books and ring binders on her desk with a bang.
“Welcome back, I hope you had a wonderful break,” she said without emotion, her face blank.
“This term we will be studying Of Mice and Men,” she held the book up for us to see, “a timeless tale of friendship and the hardships faced by those in 1930s society.”
She sighed and dropped the book on the desk, pulling her steely hair back from her face in a severe knot.
“But before we begin this module of work, I must rearrange the seating plan.”
Sighs echoed around the classroom. I bit my lip gleefully, crossing my fingers in the hope that fate would deal me a fair hand.
“Some of you are performing better in this class than others. I cannot afford to have any failures this year, or I could lose my job.”
Her expression didn’t change. She seemed surprisingly unperturbed by the thought of having no income and the potential of becoming homeless. After all, if she was still going by ‘Miss’ at her age, one could only assume there was no husband about to support her in her unemployment.
“To prevent this travesty, those of you who are more able will be seated next to those who are underperforming, to offer help and guidance.”
“Oh!Oh!”
Claudia’s hand shot up. Miss Stirling sighed and pushed her thick black glasses further up her hooked nose.
“Yes, Miss McWilliams?”
“I volunteer to help Erik with his English!”
I sat up a little straighter. Oh no she didn’t. Two could play at this game.
“Very well, Miss McWilliams. However, Mr Björkland’s progress will not impact my grade average.”
I tentatively raised my own hand. Miss Sterling’s hard gaze flicked towards me.
“Yes, Miss Bennett?”
“I’ll help too.”
I could feel Claudia’s murderous stare boring into the back of my head.
“How generous, Miss Bennett. I’m sure Mr Bates will appreciate your assistance.”
I froze.
“Mr Bates?”
Miss Sterling pointed to Stanley, who was sitting hunched up in a corner by himself. He didn’t look up at the sound of his own name and continued to pick his nose and arrange his boogers in a shape on the desk in front of him.
“What!?No-”
“I thought you were willing to help, Miss Bennett?”
Someone sniggered at the back.
“I-I am! But, I thought I could help-” I gulped, “Marie!”
Marie looked offended.
“I am an A+ student!”
There were more sniggers from the back of the room, probably prompted by Claudia. I floundered helplessly. Even Miss Sterling’s grim expression livened up a bit.
“Please move your things to Mr Bates’ desk.”
Unable to defend myself, I lifted my bag and took the walk of shame across the classroom, to where Stanley was counting up his snot.
“I’ve got twenty-five boogers,” he told me proudly, “How many have you got?”
“I’d rather not know,” I grumbled.
He pulled off the grubby leather bracelet he wore around his wrist and hurled it at me.
“Ow!” I clasped my arm, even though it didn’t hurt, “What did you do that for?”
“I have thrown down the gauntlet! I challenge you to see whose nose can produce the most mucus!”
The rest of the class roared with laughter as I scooted my chair as far away from him as possible, trying not to breathe in his vile odour. Stanley snapped his fingers in frustration.
“Curses! The crowd mock me, as if I were a lowly jester! It would have been more believable with a real gauntlet! If only they let me wear my armour to school...”
I put my head down on the desk, pressing my forehead against the cool surface, and waited for this horrible experience to end. A million years later, the bell rang. I scarpered as soon as Miss Sterling opened the door, gulping in the beautiful fresh air. I almost collided with Eddie as I hurtled down the hall, eager to get as far away as possible.
“Lily!” he smiled broadly, “Just the person I was looking for!”
“Please don’t torture me!” I begged, “I’ve had enough for today. I’ve had enough for the rest of my life!”
He laughed a deep, rolling sound of amusement. It was a relief to hear after an hour of being laughed at.
“Don’t worry! It’s all good news! It was great to have such a big turnout at the tennis club yesterday; it was amazing to see so many girls come out for sport!”
I avoided his gaze, knowing that very few of those girls were actually there for the sport.
“The problem was that there was just too many of them for me and Erik to help everyone! So I’ll be holding an extra tennis practice on Thursday, and Erik will be holding an extra practice on Friday!”
My ears pricked up.
“Really?”
Eddie nodded.
“For a select few, only. Just for those that showed potential. So don’t bring all your friends with you or we’re back to square one!”
I smiled. An extra practice for those who showed potential. And I was one of them! I bit my lip. Erik must have noticed me! He must have seen my talent! Even though he could have noticed any of those other girls, he noticed me!
“I’ll definitely be there!”
The skin around Eddie’s dark eyes crinkled as his smile widened.
“Great! I’m glad to see that your rash has cleared up too!”
I shot him a puzzled look.
“What rash?”
He gestured at my nose.
“You had an allergic reaction to your mum’s washing powder. You were covered in hives or something yesterday.”
“Oh, yes!” I laughed, “I don’t think it was a serious reaction. It was fine after I got home yesterday.”
“It must have been serious enough to addle your memory!” Eddie’s gaze roved to my forehead, “And you’ve still got something there.”
He brushed his finger gently across my forehead and held it out for me to see. I blanched at the sight of something small, crusty and green. I had been walking round with one of Stanley’s boogers on my forehead
~~Chapter 6
That night, I couldn’t concentrate on anything I tried to do. I gave up on my maths homework, after spending half an hour staring at the page and chewing the end of my pencil. I knew I had already annoyed Mr Hughes by forgetting my calculator, but surely sitting next to Anthony was punishment enough for two minor crimes?
I couldn’t settle to watch tv either. I fidgeted restlessly while the Real Housewives of Orange County went shoe shopping and ended up having a cat fight over a pair of overpriced sandals that two members of the group wanted.
“I saw them first!” a skinny blonde hissed.
“I touched them first!” another blonde spat back.
“Can’t you just buy a pair each?” a third blonde interjected.
“Lily? What are you doing?” my mother asked, kicking off her shoes and hanging up her coat.
“Nothing,” I mumbled, as the first two blondes launched themselves at the third blonde for suggesting such a thing.
“Don’t you have homework to do? That would be a better way to use your time, instead of vegetating on the sofa watching reality tv shows.”
“It’s the first week back, Mum,” I groaned, “Practically still the holidays.”
“The first week back in the final term of your GCSE year! Your exams will start next month! Why aren’t you studying?”
“I’ve studied! The exams are a whole month away! I just want some time to myself!”
Mum shook her head.
“You don’t get time to yourself in the real world, Lily! I sure don’t get any! I’ve just come home from a hard day down at the clinic and now I have to make dinner, clean the house and make sure my children are studying! I don’t get downtime, and neither should you! Now make yourself useful and help me with the dinner!”
She glared at me before stalking into the kitchen. I grunted as I hauled myself off the sofa and followed her.
“Time to yourself,” she grumbled, as she handed me a sack of potatoes and a vegetable peeler, “Time to do nothing, while the rest of us work. Your father’s still at the office and your brother’s upstairs working for his A-levels, why you don’t have their work ethic, I don’t know.”
I tuned out her rant and set to work washing and peeling enough potatoes to feed a small army. My heart flip-flopped in my chest as I thought of the extra tennis practice on Friday. How many people would be there? Eddie had said a ‘select few’. I wondered if Erik had personally selected the few who would attend or if Eddie had had a hand in it and picked me because I was his best friend’s sister. What if Erik had picked me himself? Would he still be interested after I had humiliated myself in English? I had to do something to really impress him at the extra tennis practice...
I became so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I paid little attention to the potatoes I was peeling until a sharp pain in my left hand shattered my reverie.
“Ow!”
Both the peeler and the potato went clattering into the sink, as I clutched my hand to my chest, pinching the edges of the long wound that ran along the back of my hand to try and stem the flow of blood. The potatoes I had already peeled became splattered with scarlet droplets, as I ran my hand underneath the cold tap until the stinging eased. I glanced over my shoulder, to see if Mum had noticed the massacre, but thankfully she was busy stirring a pot that was boiling on the hob. I hurriedly washed the bloodied potatoes and slapped a flesh-coloured plaster over my wound.
A plan began to form in my mind as my family sat down to dinner and my mother decided to inform my nearest male relatives that I was a waste of space. She didn’t seem to notice that her supposedly studious and hard working son had the red rimmed, bloodshot eyes of someone who had been playing video games in a dark room for too long. I kept my head down, trying to stay out of trouble so she would let me disappear upstairs after dinner so I could carry out phase one of my plan to impress Erik. I nodded politely when the conversation was directed at me, and laughed when Aaron commented on the pink tinge of his potatoes.
As soon as the final plate had been loaded into the dishwasher, I scrambled up the stairs on all fours and slammed the door to my bedroom. I spent hours poring over revision books, study guides and my dog eared copy of ‘Of Mice and Men’. I was still making notes about the themes of the novel when Mum rapped her knuckles on the door.
“Come in,” I called.
She opened the door and gasped, taking in the sight of the many mind maps and spider diagrams that were spread across the purple carpet.
“Have you been studying all this time?”
“No, I’ve been learning to play the piano.”
She ignored my sarcasm and leaned over my shoulder, as if to check the school books in front of me were real.
“Are these all your revision notes for English?”
I nodded.
“I’m so proud!”
She threw her arms around me, crushing me in a hug.
“I’m sorry I said you were useless,” Mum sniffed.
“Useless, and lazy and a waste of space...”
She waved her hand dismissively.
“I-I understand that you wanted time to yourself. I know you work very hard and sometimes you just need a break. We all do. I’m just a bit stressed at work right now.”
She patted me on the shoulder and turned to leave.
“Oh, by the way,” she stopped, her hand on the door handle, “What did you do to those potatoes earlier? They were truly delicious! Did you add seasoning?”
“Uhh, chef’s secret.”
I sighed with relief as she left, without pushing it any further. I glanced at the clock, and decided it was time for bed. I packed all my books back into my bag and hoped my plan would be successful.
The next day, I arrived outside Miss Sterling’s classroom with my head held high. I could hear Claudia cackling behind me, and angled myself so she, and whoever happened to be with her, could see me reading ‘Of Mice and Men’, like the studious individual I was pretending to be.
Once inside the class, I made sure my books were neatly arranged on the desk, as far away from Stanley as possible.
“Good afternoon, class,” Miss Sterling sighed, as she dumped her books and gazed around the room with a stony expression, “Why don’t we start the class by checking who has done their homework?”
Her lip twitched as she pulled a list of questions from one of her folders.
“Let’s start with an easy one. Why did Steinbeck write the book in sections, as opposed to chapters?”
The class slumped in their chairs, avoiding her gaze. I forced my hand into the air.
“Miss Bennett?”
“Uh, he wrote it to be a play?”
I crossed my fingers beneath the desk, hoping my studying had paid off.
“And why did he call it ‘Of Mice and Men’?”
“It was a quote from a poem by Robert Burns.”
“What is the main theme of the novel?”
“The American Dream?”
“Very good, Miss Bennett. Clearly, you have done your homework.”
I shuffled in my seat, unused to her praise.
“Nerd,” Claudia whispered.
There were several sniggers at the back of the room that were cut off by a deep, lilting voice that could only belong to one person.
“Do not laugh. Intelligence is something to be marvelled at, not mocked.”
I smiled. Phase one was complete.
~~Chapter 7
You can do it, I told myself as I trudged through the muddy school grounds, just be cool. Smile. Swish your hair. Bat your eyelashes. What could possibly go wrong?
I groaned as I stepped in a puddle outside the storage shed, splashing dirty water all over my brand new trainers. At least there were plenty of full size rackets for me to choose from.
A loud, raucous laugh erupted from the nearby tennis court as I deliberated between a large green racket and a red one of a similar size. I settled for the green one, concluding that it would bring out the colour of my eyes. I was going to need to look my best.
My heart sank as I drew closer to the tennis court, where a small, skinny creature was clinging to Erik and laughing hysterically.
“Ooohh myyyy God, Erik,” Claudia drawled, “You are, like, so funny!”
Erik smiled weakly as Claudia wrapped one manicured hand around his arm, pulling him into her toxic embrace. They both looked up as I rattled the gate, Claudia’s eyes narrowing as I stalked towards them, hopefully imitating the girls from Britain and Ireland’s Next Top Model.
“Hello!” Erik called cheerfully, side stepping away from Claudia. I couldn’t help tugging at my unflattering sports kit as I approached them, taking in Claudia’s short black skirt and tight polo shirt.
I coughed and tried to make my voice sound sexy but my throat dried up as Erik’s beautiful eyes landed on mine.
“Hi,” I croaked.
He cocked his head to one side.
“Do you have a cold?”
My eyes widened in alarm and I shook my head vigorously. This hadn’t been the angle I was going for.
“Is it just the two of you today?” Erik asked.
“Looks like it,” Claudia snarled.
“This will be nice. It is easier for me to coach a small group and easier for you to learn. But there was such a big turnout on Monday. I wonder what happened to everyone else?”
“It’s a Friday,” Claudia purred, arching her back and flicking her hair in Erik’s direction, “Only the most dedicated people stay after school on a Friday afternoon. Most people rush home to start the weekend.”
“I see...” Erik mused, “What made you want to stay for tennis on a Friday?”
“I came for the exercise,” Claudia simpered, clutching her flat stomach, “I put on so much weight over the holidays. I ate, like, three meals a day! I’m such a gorb!”
Erik raised his golden eyebrows.
“You want to play tennis so you can lose weight?”
Claudia nodded.
“I’m so fat.”
She waited for the sympathy and reassurance that never came.
“That is... terrible,” Erik said, “Tennis is about speed and strength. Tennis players want their bodies to be strong and powerful, not thin and weak. It is not a sport for dieters.”
Claudia’s eyes flashed with rage, as Erik turned to me.
“What about you? Are you here to lose weight too?”
“Uhhh, no,” I fumbled for an excuse, “I just think tennis is a great sport and I would like to get better at it. I want to be as good as... Stefan Edburg.”
I blurted out the first name that came to mind. Please let Stefan Edburg be a tennis player.
Erik looked shocked.
“Stefan Edburg?”
I gulped, nodding. Erik’s face broke into a smile.
“Stefan Edburg is my idol! He is one of the greatest Swedish tennis players ever!”
I sighed with relief and smiled back, hoping I wasn’t exposing too much teeth.
“He really is amazing! Much better than that German guy... Boris Johnson?”
Confusion passed over Erik’s angelic features.
“Boris Johnson is the Lord Mayor of London. I do not believe he plays tennis and he certainly is not German.”
I blushed furiously.
“Uh- I meant-”
“Are we going to actually, like play Tennis?” Claudia asked, unwittingly saving me from further embarrassment, “Or are we going to stand about chatting about Steven Edgar all day?”
“Of course we will play tennis. But we need to warm up first. How about some laps?” Erik suggested.
He began to jog slowly around the court, Claudia and I falling into step on either side of him.
“I know running laps seem boring,” he told us, “but it is a simple and effective way of preparing our bodies for exercise.”
He started to speed up. I struggled to keep up with his long legged pace.
“I don’t mind running laps, Erik,” Claudia said, “But maybe Lily finds it boring?”
I felt my face turn a deeper shade of beetroot as they both turned to look at me, lagging behind slightly.
“No, no,” I huffed, “I’m not bored at all.”
“Are you sure?” Claudia prodded, “You don’t look like you’re effectively preparing your body for exercise. It would be, like, a total shame if you pulled a muscle and couldn’t play. Why don’t we sprint the last lap?”
“That’s a good idea!” Erik agreed.
Before I could protest, the two of them broke into a run and sped away from me. Claudia giggled as she raced along close beside Erik. I couldn’t let her get away with it! I pushed my tiring limbs to go faster, my feet burning as I slammed them into the hard packed clay. I cut the corners and hurtled across the court until I was right behind them.
“Wow, you are like, so fit,” Claudia told Erik, eyeing his muscles like a lion getting ready to pounce on a baby gazelle.
“Of course he’s fit,” I gasped, shuffling closer to Erik, so he was sandwiched between Claudia and me, “All good tennis players are fit.”
Claudia glared at me across Erik’s broad chest. I held her gaze.
“Well, Erik’s extra strong. And he’s super fast.”
“Only the best tennis players are strong and fast. Most are only one or the other.”
“And he looks great wearing shorts.”
I opened my mouth to retort that appearance is irrelevant to the best sportsmen, when Erik slowed to a halt.
“Why don’t you start a rally? Then I can see where your strengths and weaknesses lie.”
“Of course!” we chorused.
Claudia made sure to knock into me as she sauntered to the other side of the net. I glared daggers at the waterfall of hair that cascaded over her shoulders as she walked.
“My serve!” she shouted, pivoting to face me.
She bounced the ball viciously before sending it flying across the court. I lunged forwards, waving my racket at the oncoming ball. I miscalculated the distance and it hit me in the shoulder.
“Ow!”
“Oppsies! Reserve!”
I flailed wildly and grinned triumphantly when my racket connected with the second ball with a satisfying thump. My happiness dissolved when the ball span across the court and ended up in the net, having gone nowhere near Claudia.
“My serve!” I called, rushing to retrieve the ball. I mirrored Claudia’s serve, flinging the ball into the air and whacking it with the racket but I missed. Again. And again. And again.
“Fault!” Claudia screeched, “Double fault! Triple fault! It’s my serve now!”
“No, it isn’t!” I argued.
“Stop! Stop!”
Erik beckoned us over.
“What’s the verdict, coach?” Claudia asked, looked up at him from under her thick black eyelashes.
Erik looked anguished.
“Well, you both have terribly weak backhands and your serves are awful. You clearly haven’t grasped the rules or the concept of the game. Have either of you ever played tennis before?”
“Wait a second.”
Claudia waved her hand to silence him as she fished in her pocket and pulled out a sleek, vibrating iPhone, encased in a sparkly pink cover. She flipped it open and held it to her ear.
“Hello? Daddy? What? The chauffer is outside waiting for me? Dinner with the prime minister? I thought that wasn’t until Sunday! What? Okay. I’ll be right there. Bye.”
“I’m so sorry, but I have to go,” Claudia gushed, as if Erik hadn’t heard every word of her conversation, “Something important has come up. I’ll see you on Monday.”
She threw her arm over his shoulder in a quick hug, glared at me and disappeared out through the gate. Erik turned his attention back to me.
“Um, I haven’t been able to play tennis in a while,” I told him.
“Why not?”
“My grandmother died,” I lied.
Erik’s gaze softened.
“I’m sorry. What happened?”
“Uhh she died in a... boating accident. She enjoyed tennis and I played with her when I was a child but I haven’t been able to bring myself to play ever since...” I trailed off, shocked at the elaborate lie that was falling from my lips. As far as I knew Granny Flo was alive and well, having never played tennis or set foot on a boat in her life.
“That is very sad. What made you decide to take up tennis again?”
I paused.
“I don’t think she would have wanted me to stop, especially not on her account. I’m very out of touch but I’d like to get back in the game.”
Erik smiled.
“Then I will help you. It will be a lot of hard work but I’m sure you’ll be back in the game before long.”
~~Chapter 8
I woke up the next morning to the sound of my phone incessantly buzzing on my bedside table. I groaned and rolled over, reaching out to grab it. I squinted at the bright screen. Five new messages from Freya plus a missed call, all before ten o’clock in the morning.
Lily, the first message read, remember the circus i told u about? In the park at the bottom of town? Well, that’s 2day. The show starts at 7, so meet me in the park entrance at 6:45, k? I want to get good seats, near the main attraction lol. C u later, F xx
I flicked onto the next text, which had been sent five minutes after the first.
Not sure if u got my first message, circus 2night at 7, meet at 6:45. Need to get seats near Greg. F xx
Which was followed by;
OMG what if its busy and we can’t get near Greg? What if he doesn’t c me? Should we meet earlier? What about 6:30? Plz don’t b late. F xx
Then;
What if he’s with someone else? I no he’s bringing his lil sis, but what if Veronica’s there? Or some other girl? OMG what do i do?
Finally;
What should I wear?
I sent her my reassurances that I wouldn’t be late, Greg would be thrilled to see her, and she should wear the floral print skirt I bought her last Christmas, before lumbering downstairs in search of something to eat.
Aaron lay sprawled on the sofa watching tv, an empty cereal bowl perched precariously on his chest. He didn’t look up as I entered the room.
“What are you doing?” I asked him.
“Burning my brain cells,” he replied, without taking his gaze from the screen.
I glanced over to see Jeremy Kyle comforting a snivelling woman who was blowing her nose on her sleeve. I barked out a laugh.
“What’s her problem?”
“Her husband kicked her out of their house,” Aaron told me, “Stole all her money, and refuses to see their kids. High octane stuff.”
I shook my head as I shuffled past into the kitchen.
“Hey, Aaron,” I called, as I opened the cupboard, “Where’s all the cereal?”
“I ate it.”
“But there was half a box left!”
“I was hungry.”
“Ugh, now I’ll have to make toast!”
“Good luck with that.”
“You did not eat all the bread too!?”
“No, I didn’t. Eddie did, when he stopped by this morning.”
“What sport was he recruiting for this time?”
“Dog walking. His neighbours are on holiday and he has to walk their dogs while they’re gone.”
My stomach rumbled as I slammed the cupboard door shut.
“Now there’s nothing to eat!”
“There’s an entire packet of that porridge Mum likes...”
“There’s nothing to eat!” I repeated.
“You could go to the supermarket and buy something,” Aaron suggested.
“I’m not trekking all the way across town to invest my hard earned money in cereal that you’ll end up eating on me!”
“Psh,” Aaron set his bowl on the coffee table by the sofa and joined me in the kitchen, “Hard earned money. You’ve never worked a day in your life.”
“I’ve helped Dad with his paper work. That’s more difficult than flipping burgers in MacDonald’s every Thursday night,” I countered.
“Flipping burgers is pretty hard when you have a line of overweight customers complaining that they’re starving watching you. Anyway,” he fished in the pocket of his baggy jeans and pulled out a twenty pound note, “I’ll give you my hard earned cash to buy cereal if you bring me back new batteries for the Xbox controller.”
I sighed.
“Fine. I’ll get you batteries as long as you never eat all my cereal again.”
“Deal.”
We shook on it, before I trudged back upstairs to get dressed. I threw on a pair of old leggings and a t-shirt, not bothering to do my hair or make-up. I didn’t expect to see anyone of interest at the supermarket.
I ran my fingers through my straggly hair as I made my way down the street, glad that nobody my age was around so early on a Saturday morning, to see me in my bedraggled state. I stuck to the side streets as I made my way downtown, deciding to cut through the park to avoid the main street.
It was quiet along the twisty path that ran beside the babbling river, and I could see the big top at the far end of the sprawling, green expanse of the park where the circus would take place. The sky above me was blue and dotted with fluffy white clouds, the sun shining weakly though the haze. I smiled as I walked along, not paying attention to the path in front of me.
“Eww!” I shrieked, as my foot met something warm and squishy, “Ew, ew, ew!”
“Lily?”
I turned to see Eddie jogging towards me, dragged along by two Great Danes. He struggled to halt them, as I wiped my foot in the grass.
“I’m so sorry about that! I was going to lift Mickey’s... you know, but I didn’t have a bag, so I had to race home to get one! I was worried about a dog warden finding it, but I never expected someone to step in it!”
“I didn’t see it,” I grumbled, as I scrubbed my shoe furiously with a handful of leaves, only succeeding in making the brown stain look worse.
“It was huge! How could you not see it?”
I shrugged.
“Speaking of not seeing things,” Eddie continued, narrowing his usually warm brown eyes, “I didn’t see you on Thursday afternoon.”
I gave up scrubbing, and threw the dirty leaves down.
“Should you have seen me?”
Eddie nodded.
“For the extra tennis practice I told you about. You said you would go.”
I slapped my hand over my mouth but quickly dropped it, remembering that my fingers had just been a leaf’s breadth away from dog poo.
“I forgot about that,” I said, truthfully. I hadn’t given Eddie’s tennis practice a second thought, I had been so preoccupied thinking of Erik but I had obviously given Eddie the impression I would go.
“I’m really sorry. I’ve had so much homework and revision to do, with GCSE exams coming up. It completely slipped my mind.”
Eddie still looked hurt.
“Nobody showed up to my practice. Not one single person. At least two people showed up for Erik.”
“Did they?” I hoped Erik hadn’t mentioned my name, “Everybody’s just really busy with school work right now. I’m sure they would have come if they’d could. I’ll definitely be there next week.”
Eddie shook his head.
“I’m not doing it next week. I felt like a right idiot, waiting at the tennis courts for people who never showed. I’ll just stick with the regular tennis club from now on.”
“Is... Erik continuing the extra practices on Friday?” I asked tentatively.
“Yes. He said something about ‘an enthusiastic tennis player who needs my help to get back in the game’,” Eddie replied, poorly imitating Erik’s brogue.
“Oh,” I nodded, trying to conceal my delight that Erik wanted to help me, “Well, I’m really sorry I missed your practice. I’ll still go to the regular tennis club.”
Eddie gave a small smile, warmth returning to his eyes.
“Good. You really need to work on that serve. I guess we’re even now, anyway,” he gestured to my foot, “You stood me up, and I ruined your shoe.”
I raised my eyebrows in mock surprise.
“That was yours?”
He laughed, his smile widening.
“That was courtesy of Mickey.”
He petted one of the Great Danes on the head.
“Minnie did hers in the garden before we left.”
“Your neighbour named their gigantic dogs Mickey and Minnie?”
“Apparently their five year old daughter picked the names.”
I snorted and moved off the path to swirl my messy shoe in the river water.
“They shouldn’t have let the five year old have a say in it.”
Eddie laughed again, his smile finally reaching his eyes.
“I don’t think sticking your foot in the dirty river water will make it any cleaner.”
“It couldn’t make it any worse,” I kicked my foot out and splashed the cold water in his direction, “Anyway, I have a bone to pick with you.”
“What bone is that?” he asked, dodging away from the spray of water.
“You ate the last of the bread in my house, leaving me nothing for breakfast this morning.”
A puzzled look passed across Eddie’s face.
“No, I didn’t. I haven’t been to your house today.”
“Yes, you have. Aaron said so...” a light bulb flicked on in my brain, “Then he gave me money to go out and buy cereal, so I would bring him back some batteries for his Xbox...”
We exchanged a knowing glance. Eddie moved closer to the riverside, pulling Mickey and Minnie behind him.
“Well, Lily,” he said, flicking his hand through the water, “It looks as if we’ve both been well and truly stitched up.”
~~Chapter 9
I arrived at the park later that night to find Freya waiting for me impatiently, her arms crossed and her foot tapping the tarmac path.
“You’re late!” she scolded as I drew closer.
“No, I’m not!” I replied, checking the time on my phone, “It’s only 6:32!”
“We agreed 6:30!” she snapped, and stalked off towards the big top, which was lit up like a Christmas tree. Dozens of fairy lights were strung across the entrance and the faint tinkling sound of circus music could be heard through the heavy folds of the tent.
I had to jog lightly to keep up with Freya’s fast pace. I don’t know how she managed it in eight inch sparkly high heels. She was wearing a low cut red blouse and a short black skirt. I felt very underdressed in my faded blue jeans and scuffed ballet pumps.
“Hey, I thought you were going to wear the skirt I gave you last Christmas?” I squinted up into her face, noticing that her eyelashes were longer and thicker than usual, and she smelled strongly of rose perfume.
“Oh, you know,” Freya waved her hand dismissively, her scarlet fingernails catching the light, “I thought it was a little too... conservative to wear tonight.”
Her cheeks flushed red under a thick layer of make-up and she brushed her hand nervously through her loosely curled hair.
“You do realise we are going to a circus, right? Children will be here,” I pointed out, as we purchased our tickets from a clown who was manning the doorway. He pushed open the thick folds of the tent to allow us to pass into the heady, humid arena.
“Well, duh,” Freya swept her hair back from her face, “but I needed to up my game to compete.”
She clutched my arm as she staggered across the floor, which was covered with straw and sawdust.
“Yuck, yuck, yuck,” she complained, as her once sparkly shoes became coated with a thick layer of dust, “where do you think Greg will sit?”
We gazed around the big top. Aside from several clowns, laden down with trays of circus memorabilia, we were the only people there. A large circle was marked out in the centre, surrounded by a ring of empty seats, a red velvet rope separating the two. Tiers of chairs were laid out around the edge, a similar format to the stands at a football game.
“Why don’t we sit at the back?” I suggested, “That way, we have a birds’ eye view of everything and we’ll be able to see when he comes in.”
Freya nodded in agreement and stumbled up the creaky stairs to the back row of seats. She perched on the aisle seat, where she could glance down at the stream of young families that were beginning to trickle in.
“What if he’s changed his mind and doesn’t come?” she fretted, tugging at her blouse, “What if I got the time wrong and he was here earlier? What if he does come and has not interest in me whatsoever? What if-”
“Stop worrying,” I scolded, “If you go in with a negative mindset, you’ll end up with a negative result.”
“What self-help book did you get that from?”
Freya sighed and crossed her legs, seemingly unaware of the amount of flesh she was exposing.
“Did you hear about the dance?” she asked.
“What dance?”
She rolled her eyes and glanced down at the entrance again, where there was still no sign of Greg.
“You know, the formal! At the end of the school year!”
“Oh. That.”
“Yes, that!” Freya exclaimed, uncrossing her legs before recrossing them again, “Well, in biology Ashleigh told me that Sarah told her that Louise was nearly finished organising it and tickets would be on sale Tuesday!”
“Wow,” I exhaled deeply, “That’s soon. I see now why you’ve decided to up your game with Greg.”
Freya flushed again.
“We need boys to go with. We can’t go to a dance without dates. That would just be socially unacceptable, so you’ll have to find somebody too.”
An image of Erik dressed in a suit flashed across my mind. A black jacket would really set off his pale skin and he could have a pale blue tie to match his eyes. Then I could find a dress the same colour and he could buy me a corsage so we would match. Claudia would explode with rage when she saw Erik and I, arm in arm, slow dancing into the night...
I laughed out loud at the thought of my own triumph.
“Look, crazy!” Freya elbowed me sharply in the ribs, “There he is! It’s Greg! Oh, God, what do I do!?”
I followed the direction of her gaze to see Greg’s gangly form shuffling along below us. Even in the dim light, I could still make out his tousled red hair. He was holding the hand of a small, pale girl who had made an attempt to control her own unruly ginger hair by pulling it back into two braids.
“Wave to him.”
“I can’t!”
“Why not? Look, he’s going to sit over there!”
We both watched while Greg led his sister to the far side of the big top.
“Quick! You’re going to miss your chance!”
Freya sat still, silently opening and closing her mouth like a goldfish. I shoved her roughly in the side.
“Call him over!”
“Greg!” her voice came out a hoarse whisper that I could barely hear from my position right beside her.
“Louder!”
“Greg!” she squeaked.
I sighed. It was time for intervention.
“Greg!” I called, louder than I’d intended, “Greg! Over here!”
Not only did I attract the attention of Greg and his sister, but also that of every living organism within a ten mile radius. The family sitting two rows in front of us turned round to scowl at me, the clowns selling souvenirs stopped in their tracks to see what was going on and people sitting on the far side of the tent glanced over in my direction. I shrank in my seat and did my best to look inconspicuous. On the up side, Greg had also stopped and was squinting in our directions, clearly blind without his pair of thick-rimmed spectacles.
“Wave at him!” I hissed in Freya’s ear.
She obediently raised an arm, which was shaking slightly, and waved it back and forth above her head.
“It’s working!” she whispered as Greg, still squinting, pulled his sister towards us, “I can’t believe he’s coming over!”
“You’re welcome,” I replied, moving up several seats so there was room for him at the end of our row.
“Freya, Lily!” Greg smiled timidly as he slid into the seat beside Freya, struggling to cram his long, skinny legs into the cramped space. His sister took the aisle seat, her sandy eyebrows drawn downwards in a scowl that told me she hadn’t appreciated having her trip to the circus hijacked by a tongue-tied girl and her mega-mouth friend.
“Hey, Greg,” Freya simpered, crossing her legs in his direction, “I didn’t expect to see you here!”
“I’m just here with my sister,” he gestured towards the sulky child beside him, “She wanted to see the elephants, didn’t you, Allie?”
Allie merely glowered in response.
“Anyway,” Greg continued, his gaze wandering to take in Freya’s choice of attire, “I didn’t expect to see you guys here either. I didn’t think circuses would be your... scene.”
“Oh, well, we were just- Lily loves circuses, don’t you, Lily?”
Freya turned to face me, her grey eyes pleading with me to play along.
“Sure,” I agreed, “Circuses are great. They’re so dynamic and exciting. I would love to join the circus one day.”
Both Greg and Freya looked surprised.
“What role would you want to play in the circus?” Greg asked.
“Uhh,” I struggled to think of anything aside from clown. I glanced desperately around for inspiration and my gaze fell on a little girl making her way up the stairs with a My Little Pony figurine clutched in her chubby fist.
“I would want to be a bare-back rider.”
Greg looked taken aback and Freya shot me a warning look. Allie looked faintly amused as she stood up to allow the little girl and her severely obese granddad into our row.
“Oho, excuse me,” the old man laughed as he pushed past Greg, who barely had time to stand up, “Excuse me.”
Freya and I stood as far back as possible to give him enough room to pass by, but he still managed to press up against us as he squeezed past, his eyes roaming to Freya’s low neckline.
“Perve alert,” I whispered to her, after he’d heaved his ginormous beer belly past me.
He glanced back at me as I sat down. I avoided his gaze, hoping he hadn’t heard my comment. I hadn’t expected his hearing to be up to much at his age.
“Annabel, come back here,” he summoned the little girl who had taken her pony to the other end of the row, “The view will be best here.”
He turned and squeezed his bulk into the chair right next to me.
Oh no.
He had more difficulty settling his stomach into the small space than Greg had had with his legs. He was out of breath by the time he’d wiggled back in the tiny, plastic chair, which creaked beneath his weight. His massive thighs spread over into my seat and his meaty shoulder was pressed against mine. I squirmed and scooted over so I was practically on Freya’s lap, but it wasn’t far enough away. She rolled her eyes at me, and turned back to Greg.
“Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls,” a clown announced over a megaphone, “The show is about to begin. Please ensure your mobile phones have been switched off so they don’t disrupt all the fun!”
He discarded his megaphone and turned a cartwheel in the sand. The fat granddad laughed louder than was necessary and attempted to fish his phone out of his pocket.
“Dear me,” he muttered, “These trousers are tighter than they used to be!”
He chortled at his own joke and leaned over, thrusting his bum in my face, so he could wrangle the phone out of his hip pocket. I turned my face away and got a mouthful of Freya’s hair, which she was swishing about as she giggled at something Greg was saying.
“Oho, that’s better,” the fat granddad said, as he settled back into his seat, the phone in his hand. I breathed a small sigh of relief and inched over slightly so Freya’s hair was no longer tickling my cheek.
“Oh, no,” the old man grumbled, as he jabbed the screen of his dated Motorola with one chunky finger, “I can’t seem to turn this thing off. Would you mind helping me out, dear?”
He held the phone out to me, sweat glistening on the screen from where he had touched it. Unable to think of an excuse not to, I took the phone and pressed the off button.
“Why thank you, dear,” he chuckled, causing all four of his chins to wobble precariously, “The things I can’t do with these big thumbs of mine!”
He kept laughing while he repeated the manoeuvre to return the phone to his pocket, his movement causing the entire row of seats to vibrate. I couldn’t help but shiver as the lights were dimmed and an army of feather-clad dancers shimmied into the ring. Freya flicked her hair into my face several times as she flirted with Greg, while the fat granddad continued to ooze onto my seat as he laughed like a drain, even though none of the performances were remotely funny.
I paid very little attention to the dancers, who were followed by a woman and her flock of talking parrots. I wasn’t interested in the clowns and their pitiful attempt at magic tricks, or the fire-eater who singed his moustache while ramming a tiki torch down his throat. Even Gustav, the Incredible Hungarian Acrobat, failed to entertain me in his tight lycra outfit, as he contorted his body into the most impossible positions while swinging twenty feet above the ground. Greg and Freya were more amused by each other than they were by the performers, but the fat granddad guffawed throughout, having a seemingly marvellous time.
One hundred years later, the lights were turned on and the clown with the megaphone announced it was time for the interval. I hoped the fat granddad would take Annabel to buy an ice-cream or a fluorescent light saber to give me some breathing space but he made no attempt to move from his seat. Freya and Greg continued murmuring to each other, clearly going nowhere, but thankfully I wasn’t the only one desperate for escape.
“Greg,” his sister whined, tugging on his sleeve, “Greg, look!”
All three of us followed her gaze to the ring, where several Shetland ponies were surrounded by small children and their doting parents.
“Greg, they’re letting those kids ride the ponies! Can I ride a pony, Greg? Can I, please?”
“Uh..um..”
Greg glanced between Freya and the ponies, reluctant to abandon her to take Allie down to the ringside.
“I’ll go with you!” I announced, standing up.
Allie eyed me with distrust but Freya broke in before she could refuse my companionship.
“Yeah, Lily can take Allie to ride the ponies. It’ll be good experience for when she joins the circus as a bare-back rider.”
Greg looked slightly doubtful but mumbled, “Well, if you don’t mind...”
I waved off his concern and hustled Allie down the steps, struggling not to trip over Freya or Greg as I clambered out of the row.
“So, is this your first time riding a pony?” I asked Allie, as we stood in a short line behind other children waiting for their turn to be lifted onto a pony’s back by Gustav the Incredible Hungarian Acrobat and led around the ring by one of the many identical clowns.
She shook her head sulkily, still sore from playing second fiddle to Freya. She must have had a closer relationship with Greg than I’d ever had with Aaron.
“Who’s next?” Gustav asked us, as a chestnut pony drew to a halt and he lowered a little boy from its back to the ground. The clown passed the pony’s reins to Gustav and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. Gustav nodded and the clown left the ring.
“Please wait a moment until Jinko come back. Then you ride.”
“S’alright,” Allie told him, “Lily can ride the pony without Jinko. She’s going to be a bareback rider!”
I glared at her in horror.
“Oh, I wasn’t planning on riding the pony anyway...”
Gustav glanced at the long queue behind us and nodded.
“Ok, you go now and save time.”
“No, I couldn’t ride such a little horse, I am sixteen years old, I –uh!”
I yelped in surprise as Gustav grabbed my waist and lifted me onto the pony, thrusting the reins into my hands. He smacked the pony’s rump, so it started plodding slowly around the ring while another horse drew up for Allie to ride.
My heart raced and my hands were sweating as they fumbled for the reins. I had no idea how to ride a horse! I didn’t even want to try! I’d just wanted to escape from Freya and that old man.
Mercifully, the pony seemed to know what to do, even without Jinko there to guide it. I held the reins loosely in both hands and bent my knees upwards to stop my feet dangling by the horse’s side.
This isn’t so bad, I told myself as I craned my neck to see where Greg and Freya were, but I couldn’t make out the faces of the people sitting high up in the dimly lit stalls.
“Mummy, I’m hungry!” a little boy sitting by the ringside complained, “Can we get ice-cream?”
“No, Jason, ice-cream isn’t good for you.”
I watched as Jason slouched down in his chair and huffed while his mother rummaged in her oversized handbag, pulling out a little plastic box with a blue lid.
“Here, you must eat healthy snacks so you can grow up to be big and strong.”
She opened the box to reveal vibrantly orange carrot sticks. She held them out for Jason but unimpressed, he snatched the box from her and emptied the contents onto the floor. The pony beneath me noticed this at the same time I did and abandoned its leisurely amble around the ring to snuffle at the carrots that littered the floor.
“Woa!” I called out, jolting forwards as the pony thrust its head beneath the rope that separated the ring from the seating area. I struggled to keep my balance as the pony munched on the discarded snacks lying around Jason’s feet, while Jason himself began to scream.
The pony jerked backwards, startled by the loud noise. I slid sideways on its back.
“Woa, boy, it’s alright,” I murmured, clutching the reins while attempting to clamber back into an upright position.
Jason continued to scream, which set off some other children sitting in the audience. My pony wheeled around, unnerved by the high pitched squeals rising up around the tent. It lurched backwards onto its back legs. I lost my grip on the reins, twisted sideways and went hurtling towards the ground.
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