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Authors: Cathy Hopkins

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BOOK: Starting Over
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‘I . . . oh . . . Hi,' I said with a smile, although I wasn't totally sure of how I felt about him after finding out that he had a girlfriend.

He didn't smile back. ‘India, can I have a word?

I immediately felt myself tense up. ‘Yeah. Sure.'

Dylan walked on a few steps then he turned around and, behind Joe's back, he clutched his heart and pursed his lips into a kiss expression. I'd strangle him when I got him home.

‘What on earth did you say to Mia?'Joe asked when Dylan was out of earshot.

Oh God,
I thought.
What has she told him?
‘Nothing. Least . . . Why?'

‘She came to find me at lunch break and gave me a right earful. Did you say something to her about us?'

I felt myself go red and I wished that the ground would open
up and swallow me. ‘No . . . Well, yes, but not really . . . No . . . What is there to say?'

Joe sighed, then raked through his brown hair with his right hand. ‘So what's she on about then?'

‘I ... I, er ... I recognised one of your drawings on the wall. You know, the one above the sink. I said I knew you and we'd met in Greece . . .' (I wasn't going to say that I'd admitted that I had a crush on him, and prayed that Mia hadn't told him either.) ‘That's all.'

Joe sighed. ‘She seems to have got it into her head that I
cheated
on her . . .'

‘Cheated
on her? No way. I
never
said that. Why would I?'

‘That's what I thought because . . . well, nothing happened with us, did it?'

He was looking at me so earnestly and my stomach did the strange double-flip thing it did whenever I looked into his eyes. He really did have extraordinary eyes, jade green with a circle of navy blue outlining the iris, and long thick curly lashes. I could stare into his eyes all day. It was weird. One part of my mind was saying,
Yes, yes, something did happen, a lot happened, we connected, we fell in love . . . least I did.
Another part was saying,
I'm not sure I haven't got chocolate button smeared all over my face.
Another part was having to hold back from leaning forward and nibbling his bottom lip, and a fourth part admitted,
No, nothing happened.
That was the part that spoke. ‘No. Course not. I
think
I'd have remembered.'

A fleeting smile crossed Joe's face and he slightly raised his
right eyebrow. ‘Yeah. Think I'd have remembered too. OK. Sorry. Guess Mia can get a bit jealous sometimes.'

‘I guess,' I said, although I was dying to ask a hundred questions. How long have you been going out with her? Is it love? Is it for real? She said it's on-off. Is it on? Or off? Are you having doubts? Would you like a new girlfriend? How about me? Do you like meeeeeeee? Do want a chocolate button? Do you want to go to the park and snog till our faces drop off? But of course, I didn't say anything. I cooled it out instead. I'd said too much to all the wrong people already that day so I just stood there like a lemon. A sad lemon. A lemon that had lost its zing. A lemon that was all squeezed out.

Joe turned to go. ‘OK. Good. Sorry,' he said, then rolled his eyes. ‘Girls, huh?'

‘Huh. Yeah. Girls,' I said, then laughed. ‘Er . . . although I am one by the way. A girl that is. Not a huh. Not that I know what a huh is.'

Joe laughed and visibly relaxed. ‘I know that. Oh yeah, how was your first day?'

I shrugged my shoulders.

‘Someone show you around?'

I shrugged my shoulders again. ‘Mmf. I wasn't sure if I wanted to have a cosy little chat with him about my first day, although I was dying to tell someone how truly awful it had been. But if I opened up to Joe, I'd start feeling close to him again, like I had on the plane back from Greece, when we had shared a lot - and I
hadn't
imagined it. But that was before I
knew about ‘the girlfriend', so I reminded myself he was taken, a no-go area. Mia's, not mine.

I was so relieved to get home ten minutes later and I ran straight upstairs before the inquisition started. Luckily Aunt Sarah wasn't around, nor was Kate, and Dylan was in such good spirits having had the ‘best day of his life' that he was straight into the kitchen to tell Mum all about it. I was pleased that he was OK and glad that he would distract Mum from probing me about my day and I could go and get use of the computer first. There was only one person that I wanted to talk to and that was Erin. Luckily, she was already on MSN waiting for me.

Irishbrat4eva:

Where've u been?

Cinnamongirl:

Detention, remember?

Irishbrat4eva:

Oh yeah. How was day one at the loonie bin?

Cinnamongirl:

Woe, woe and thrice times woe.

Irishbrat4eva:

Hah! One day at a school in London and you've come over all merry ole England. OK. Fine. What Shakespeare are you doing?

Cinnamongirl:

Romeo and Jules. You?

Irishbrat4eva:

Now is the winter of our discontent.

Cinnamongirl:

Yeah, I guess it is getting colder.

Irishbrat4eva:

No, idiot. Now is the winter of our discontent - it's a line from the play we're doing - Richard 3rd.

Cinnamongirl:

Whatever, so it's cold outside and tough times are ahead. Get over it, Richard.

Irishbrat4eva:

OK so from now on, we must talk in Shakespearian. Oh yay and a hey nonnie no.

Cinnamongirl:

Oh yay indeed, but forsooth, for my heart doth lie heavy in mine chest this night and verily, my day has been blackened by the darkest cloud, for never was a story of more pain than that of Joe and his India Jane.

Irishbrat4eva:

Alas, poor maiden, bare thy ailing heart to me and tell me of thy suffering.

Cinnamongirl:

I am in disgrace in my fellow maidens' eyes and I do beweep alone in my outcast state . . .

Irishbrat4eva:

Oh fie and folly . . . poor thee. Beweep? Isn't that what budgies doest? Beweep. Beweep.

I couldn't keep up the typing fast enough. There was too much to tell her so I picked up the phone and filled her in on the real reason I was late for school (it was OK to tell her about Dylan) and about being seen by my Head of Year for giving Dylan the finger.

Erin laughed her head off. ‘Excellent!
Totally
top first day. You get a prize. But what was that about lover boy? Did you see him?'

And so I told her about Joe seeing me when I was on my knees in the mud in the rain, about the art class and him having a girlfriend, about Mia and Leela all looking at me with hate in the canteen and lastly, about seeing Joe on the way home.

‘He what? He
what?
I am flabbergasted. My gast has never been so flabbered in fact. Are you
kidding?
He has a girlfriend?'

‘No, I am not kidding. And yes, he has a girlfriend, but she did say it had been kind of on-off. . .'

‘On-off, off-on. Who cares! When was he going to tell you this rather important bit of information? I mean a
whole
summer together and he never mentioned it to you? The rat. The user —'

‘No. You've got him wrong. Joe so isn't a rat type.'

‘Ah listen to yourself, India Jane. Come on. Wake up and smell the droppings. OK. So. How can you tell the difference between a rat and a nice guy?'

‘Is this a joke? I don't know. How can you?'

‘You can't. They both look the same. Don't you get it?'

‘No. It wasn't like that. And it wasn't a whole summer together. We only saw each other now and then and no way was I going to do the inquisition and scare him off. You know how boys hate that.'

‘Yeah, but you had enough conversations and you sat together
all
the way on the plane coming back. Somewhere in the conversation about star signs, what music you like, family info, etc, etc, he might have just mentioned the one tiny fact that he already had a fricking GIRLFRIEND!'

I was starting to feel annoyed with Erin and defensive of Joe and myself. ‘Why should he? I mean, he didn't owe me anything . . .'

‘He's been leading you on. Having a little flirt. Wanting the best of both worlds. You are being
far
too nice, India Jane. The guy is clearly not worth the ground you walk on. I have
changed my mind about him and forbid you to have anything more to do with him.'

‘Bossy-boots. Scott Malone was clearly a rat and did I tell you to dump him? No.'

I was starting to feel confused. I hadn't even told her about meeting Callum and suddenly I didn't want to. How had the conversation escalated into an argument with my
best
friend and me feeling like it was me and Joe against her? She was supposed to be on my side . . . She
was
on my side and
that
was why she was angry with Joe. She was being protective. I was relieved when, a moment later, I heard the African gong at the bottom of the stairs that Mum and Aunt Sarah use to announce that supper is ready. (The house is so big that it's the best way.) ‘Got to go, Erin. Supper. Speak tomorrow, same time?'

‘Oh bollards, now you're mad with me.'

‘No I'm not.'

‘You are so. I can tell. Your voice has gone all clipped like it does when you're cross.'

‘No. I'm fine. Speak tomorrow, same time, and give my love to everyone in my old class. Tell them I miss them all.'

‘Sure,' she said. ‘But I want you to know that I'm fuming. Smoke is pouring out my ears. One of us has to be mad with Joe.'

‘I wasn't his girlfriend, Erin, nor was I his confidante. He wasn't duty bound to tell me anything.'

‘Grrrrrrrr. He's been leading you on though with his smouldering looks and he did the magnet-eye thing with you
three
times you said.'

I didn't want to be reminded. I wanted to forget Joe. And Mia. And all of it. ‘Got to go. Byeee,' I said as the gong sounded a second time. I put down the phone. I felt bad after talking to her. Why was I defending Joe so much? She was only voicing everything that I had thought myself when I found out that he had a girlfriend. And it was true, we
had
done the magnet-eye thing - that's Erin's expression for when a boy looks at you and it's as if you can't drag your eyes away from looking at each other. It is also usually accompanied by stomach butterflies. But we hadn't snogged or made any promises.
So what now?
I asked myself as I slid down the banisters.
Spaghetti bol, by the smell of the garlic,
said a voice in my head.
I'm starving.

Supper was like being in a busy café as people came and went during the meal. My brother Lewis (he's a student and has digs with a mate up in Crouch End) popped in with the excuse that he'd come to see how my and Dylan's first day went. We didn't buy it. We knew he'd come because he wanted a decent meal. He had also brought Mum a pile of his dirty washing to do (lucky Mum). Mum doesn't mind the meal bit because she knows he lives on takeaways in the flat, but she thinks he's got a cheek that she is still expected to wash his clothes! Not that she refuses. She's too soft by half, I think, although she did nag him to get his hair cut. It's on his shoulders, but I think the scruffy-rock-star look suits him. Kate wafted in halfway through supper, turned her nose up at the spaghetti bol and made herself some cheese on toast instead. When she asked how our day had gone, I lied through my teeth and said it had been brilliant, and Dylan told the truth,
except about the throwing up on the way there. Dylan and I caught each other's eye at one point and he winked at me. I wasn't going to tell anyone about the puke episode and he wasn't going to reveal that I hadn't made any friends. Just as we were finishing, Ethan (my stepbrother from Dad's first marriage), Jess (his wife) and their twins, Eleanor and Lara, arrived. They're gorgeous girls with dark curly hair like their dad's (and grandad's), big blue eyes and very cheeky faces. Jess stands out as the only blonde English rose amongst all of us with Italian blood. The twins dived straight under the table and thought it highly amusing to pretend to be dogs and bite people's ankles when they were eating. I didn't mind. It took my mind off my horrible day, and by the time supper was over, I was feeling a whole lot better (apart from the tiny teeth marks). And as if he'd picked up on the fact that all the family was there, Dad called and, of course, the phone had to handed around to everyone, including the twins under the table, so that he didn't feel left out.

I sent Erin a message later that evening. I knew that I wouldn't be able to sleep if she was upset with me along with the rest of the world.

Cinnamongirl:

Forsooth, but my repast dost lie heavy in mine stomach, for verily I have stuffed myself like a boar at a Mayflower Ball.

She was still online, as if she had been waiting for me.

Irishbrat4eva:

Verily, sweet maid, sometimes it is the season for stuffing thy face so waste not thy time in vain regret. And forgive this ignorant peasant forthwith and hence forth because I do shooteth my mouth off sometimes, but tis because thou art my mate and it doth smote me heavily to see thy heart lie wounded and cast aside like a . . . cast aside thing. Verily I do not wish you to cast thy pearls before swines.

Cinnamongirl:

Fear not, O princess of the green land, for tomorrow be a new day with a new lark or is it a nightingale? (And round here you couldst throw in a car alarm too).

Irishbrat4eva:

That's the attitude. Sweet dreams, O princess of the red, white and blue land.

Cinnamongirl:

Ah yes to sleep, to dream of better boys to come. And so, weary with my toil, I haste me to my bed, fare thee well my one and only true friend, etc, etc.

Irishbrat4eva:

Verily verily, yeah, etc, etc. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

BOOK: Starting Over
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