Rebecca's Rules (20 page)
Authors: Anna Carey
I wonder if I could get in there myself? I didn’t say that to him, though, in case he thought I was, like, copying him like a weirdo and I was going to follow him across the Irish Sea. I just nodded and went back to the rehearsal. But I have been thinking of it ever since. Just imagine me and John as glamorous young student actors in London. ‘Who are that
attractive young Irish couple?’ people would ask. Not that we would be a couple-couple, of course. Just friends. And actorly colleagues.
Ended up walking down the road with John Kowalski again because Cass’s piano lesson was moved around and she had to leave rehearsal early. Somehow we keep finding ourselves leaving at the same time. We had a very interesting conversation about life and books and our dreams of the future. John Kowalski’s parents sound even worse than mine.
‘They just care about money and trivial things,’ he said. ‘I can’t stand their inane chatter.’
My parents are also full of inane chatter at the moment. If I never hear the words ‘Pirates of Penzance’ again, it’ll be too soon.
John is an only child. I asked him if he wished he had brothers and sisters but he said no, he was glad he hadn’t.
‘I need time to myself to write,’ he said. ‘Siblings would be a distraction.’
I can’t argue with that. I was trying to write a story this
evening and Rachel stomped in roaring about something stupid. She says I’ve used up her posh Chanel lipstick and she knows it was me because she hasn’t used it for weeks and it’s gone down loads in its tube (has she been measuring it? I wouldn’t put it past her). She’s such a miser. I’ve barely used it myself, I just let other people use it at Vanessa’s party. Quite a lot of people, in retrospect. I won’t tell her that, though.
Actually, maybe it was a good thing she burst in and stopped me writing because I’m not sure my story was much good. I was trying to write a serious story about a young actress, but I kept thinking of funny things to put in. Which is not good if you are trying to be a serious writer. And I am. Trying to be one, I mean. I’m pretty sure there is no room for funniness in great art. John doesn’t seem to think there is, anyway. He thinks great art is about war and passion and, I dunno, dying and stuff. Not stupid jokes.
All the teachers can’t wait until the musical is finished. Even Mrs Harrington seemed a bit impatient today.
‘I know it’s very exciting, girls,’ she said. ‘I’m looking forward
to it myself. But we’ve got to remember school comes first!’
But it was Miss Kelly who got most annoyed. I suppose you can’t blame her really. When she came into the classroom today Alice and I were showing people how we act while singing and it was a bit noisy.
‘You can do whatever you like in your rehearsals,’ bellowed Kelly. ‘But when you’re in this classroom you’re here to work, not fool around!’
Actually, I think that when we’re in her classroom, we’re there to be terrified rather than work, but none of us said that.
‘I will be keeping a special eye on all of you musical girls,’ Kelly went on, ‘to make sure you’re keeping up with the class.’
She pointed at Ellie, who looked a bit scared.
‘What are you doing in this show?’ she demanded.
‘Um, costumes. With Mrs Limond.’
And then something surprising happened. I kind of assumed Kelly would think Mrs Limond was a frivolous person for being so devoted to fashion, but no! She thinks Mrs Limond is an environmental heroine!
‘You could all learn from Mrs Limond, girls,’ she cried. ‘That woman has made all her own clothes since 1952. She’s not supporting the pointless consumerism that’s destroying
the environment! And she’s been recycling school costumes for years. Last year she turned a Russian peasant dress from the 1997 production of
Fiddler on the Roof
into one of Sandy’s dresses in
Grease.
She’s a recycling inspiration to us all! Isn’t she, Ellie?’
‘Um, yes,’ said Ellie, looking a bit stunned.
The thought of Mrs Limond recycling old costumes cheered Miss Kelly up no end, so the rest of the class was fine, really. Well as far as the musical goes. There was still a lot of environmental disaster and rants about which countries contribute most to our impending doom, but we’re used to that now.
Oh my God!
John Kowalski kissed me. And I kissed him back.
I am an adulterer!
Okay, I am not technically an adulterer as I am obviously not married. And it’s not like Paperboy and I are going out properly anymore. In fact, we are meant to be moving on. But still! We never officially broke up! Oh dear.
This is what happened. There was some sort of prop emergency, so Cass and her team were staying on a bit later after
rehearsal again. When we were getting our stuff together, Alice and Bike Boy were gazing into each other’s eyes in a way that made me feel very left out (I mean, I really am happy for her and everything, but it doesn’t mean I want to stand there and, like, gawp at the two of them). So I just slipped out of the hall and somehow I found myself walking out with John Kowalski.
Well, by ‘somehow’ I mean that I was walking out of the hall and he came up to me and said, ‘Hello, Rafferty. How’s life in the chorus?’
And I said, ‘Oh, you know. Chorus-y.’
‘Ah,’ said John Kowalski. ‘What a surprise.’ He paused. ‘Are you hanging around waiting for anyone or are you going home now?’
‘Home now,’ I said.
‘What a coincidence,’ he said. ‘So am I.’
And we walked out of school and up the drive together. I have to admit I had a funny feeling that something was going to happen, but I wasn’t sure what.
‘You know that play I wrote that I told you about?’ he said.
‘The one about the soldier who can’t decide whether or not to kill himself?’ I said.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Well, I got a mail yesterday saying I was on the shortlist. The winner will be announced in a couple of weeks.’
‘Wow,’ I said. ‘That’s brilliant.’
‘Yeah,’ said John Kowalski. ‘I knew I just had to get it out there.’ He looked at me. ‘Some day, Rafferty, I’m going to work in the theatre, and I’m going to be famous.’ He looked like there was a fire inside him. ‘I know I am.’
‘And when you are, you can get Hey Dollface to do the music for all your plays,’ I said.
He laughed. ‘I can do the music myself, thanks very much! If music is needed, of course. But thanks.’
‘I can’t decide whether I’d like to be in a band full time or not,’ I said. ‘I mean, I kind of want to. But then I want to be a writer. And I do sometimes think of being an actress. Especially after all this musical stuff.’
I thought John Kowalski might say something like, ‘You can be my leading lady!’ But he didn’t.
‘Well, you’d better decide,’ he said. ‘There’s no time to waste. You’ve got to follow your muse. Just make sure it’s the right one.’
‘That’s easier said than done,’ I said. ‘Maybe I’ll just, um, follow the band muse for a while. Once Alice is better, of course.’
‘You should play the guitar instead of her,’ said John. We were nearly at the corner now.
‘No!’ I said. ‘I mean, I can’t play it at all.’
‘You could learn,’ said John. We had reached the corner now and it was freezing cold and the wind was crazy, but we both just stood there. ‘You can do anything you want.’
‘I’m not sure,’ I said, ‘that I actually want to learn.’
‘But wouldn’t you prefer to be out in front playing the guitar?’ he said. ‘Isn’t that more glamorous? And exciting?’ Without me really knowing how, he had moved quite close to me. He’s so much taller than me it was like he was protecting me from the wild wind.
‘Well yes,’ I said. ‘But I love drumming. It’s very satisfying hitting things with sticks.’
‘Oh, Rafferty,’ he said. We were very close together now. ‘You’re not like any girl I’ve ever met.’
And then he kissed me! And I didn’t pull away and go, ‘No, John Kowalski, you can’t kiss me for I love another, and he is far away in Canada.’ I didn’t even hesitate for a second. I just kissed him back. I couldn’t help myself.
And … it was really good. It wasn’t exactly the same as kissing Paperboy. He tasted of cigarettes but, after a moment, I
didn’t mind. He was a bit more stubbly and scratchy, but that was kind of nice. He was a very good kisser too − not that I have anyone to compare him with but Paperboy. It all felt very passionate. Maybe that is because it is a forbidden love. Not that it is love, of course. Is it lust? That is a bit shocking.
Anyway, it went on for ages too. At least it felt like ages. It was like time wasn’t going at its normal speed. I could have stayed there all day but, after a while he pulled away and smiled at me and said, ‘God, Rafferty, I don’t know what came over me. Want to do that again?’
I couldn’t say anything. I just nodded. And then we were, well, kissing again. Until my phone rang.
‘Oh God,’ I said. ‘I bet that’s my mum. Um, I’d better go.’
‘If duty calls,’ drawled John Kowalski. He smiled at me. How could I have ever wondered whether he was good-looking or not? ‘See you on Monday, Rafferty.’ And he strode off down the road in his magnificent coat and I stared after him before remembering I’d better answer my phone or Mum would be convinced I’d been murdered and would send out some sort of search party.
But now Paperboy isn’t the last person I’ve kissed. Now he isn’t the only person I’ve kissed! It makes me feel like everything
between us is really over. And that makes me feel sad.
But at the same time … when John Kowalski kissed me, it was like I was melting. I suddenly fancied him so much my legs went all wobbly. How can I be so fickle?!
It really was amazing though. Even with the cigarette taste. Oh God.
I am going to have a lie down and a think.
I have thought. And I think I might be a bit in love with John Kowalski. But how can I love two boys at once?
Maybe I am not. Maybe I am really over Paperboy at last.
I told Rachel what happened last night. I couldn’t help it, I needed to tell someone, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell Cass and Alice. I know Rachel is annoying, but it’s true that when it comes to the ways of love, she knows more about the world than I do. And for someone who seems to spend a lot of her time yelling at me for no real reason, she has been
surprisingly nice about my romantic problems in the past.