Super Awkward (13 page)

Thanks for sharing, sis. Now I was going to have to attempt a life without sleep to avoid the risk of mentally-seeing the same terrifying night vision.

“That's REVOLT. Why would
anyone
do that?!”

“Well, in fairness to him, he didn't
mean
for us to see them, and they
were
kind of arty . . . but once you've
seen
it, trust me, it cannot be unseen. I reckon that's why all our year got decent art marks.”

Wow – guilty secrets for good grades. I'd never thought Jo would admit to being caught up in anything dodgy?!

“
How
have you not told me this before?! The others would have LOVED it.” My heart lurched as I remembered just how much things had changed between us. “Oh well, guess they'll just have to keep on not knowing. Their loss.”

“Have you still not sorted things out?” Last night I'd filled her in on the mess of my life in a fleeting moment of forgetting how annoying she was.

“Still? It's only been a day and a half! And there's nothing to sort out. It's un-sortable.”

Jo flicked the indicator to turn into our little drive. The light was on in the kitchen and Mum was dancing as she stirred a pan.

“Look, I'm not telling you what to do.” Jo always said that when she told me what to do. “And it was really crappy what they did. But
try
and have a think whether it's worth losing your two best mates over one mistake.”

“I have thought. And it is. Cos it wasn't one mistake – it was one big massive plot. They snoozed, they lose-d.”

She
shrugged and got out of the car. If perfect Jo didn't have any advice then I really was in trouble.

By the time we got into the kitchen Mum had already served up her interpretation of vegetarian toad in the hole – basically sticking random vegetables vertically into batter. I chewed through semi-raw carrot, fielding parent questions on my sorry excuse of a life. How could she grill
me
if she couldn't even grill cheese on toast?
How were Tegan and Rachel?
(no comment).
Had I seen Luke this term?
(way more than I'd wanted)
. Was Mikey still holding out hope for courting Tegan?
(no one says courting any more).
Did I need any mother-daughter exam-meditation?
(no, because I can't get exam stress if I pretend they're not happening). I completed the required amount of small talk for happy family-ness and ran up to my room. Normally I'd flop on the sofa and read whatever book Rachel had lent me. Or laugh about the TV on our group messages. Or spend the evening scouring YouTube for some throwback links. We'd customized loads of stuff in our rooms thanks to some craft vids from Tegan, and Rachel had got me into some really funny book vloggers. Still, that was
then
, and having zero friends freed up my time to concentrate on mission Life Reinvention. I pulled out my lucky pencil (it once
impaled
my hand when I was searching in my bag and thus got me out of a gym lesson) and drew up a list.

1)
I need to make sure I can get to prom, so NO MORE drama is allowed. Except in drama lessons, where I need to be really good.

2)
I need to somehow convince Zac that I am alluring enough to want to see again. And at least seventeen.

I looked at my leg-forest which was peeping out from under my jeans. This was going to be hard.

3)
(toughest one yet) I need to get Zac to be my date to a Year 10 prom – my Year 10 prom – even though he thinks I'm at college.

Still, even if he just walks in, realizes it's a school prom, and walks out, that's technically ‘attending' so Luke would have to say sorry, and Rachel and Tegan would be totally gutted that they hadn't been more supportive.

4
)
Become amazing, so even after potential prom disaster Zac realizes that I am the only person who can ever make him truly happy, and suggests buying a caravan and moving to Wales to spend our lives eating Nutella sandwiches and talking about art (extra note to self: need to learn about art).

I looked at the list. When I broke it down, it seemed
slightly
more doable. Plus, now I had his number I didn't need to waste any time searching and posting on
PSSSST
any more. I opened up the app to delete it. But what I saw made me change my mind. I'd got over 200 likes on the post about Tegan's Hide and Leak. Wow. As my real life was getting dangerously friendless, my non-real life was suddenly popular with total strangers. Or as Mum would say, ‘friends you just haven't met yet', which is the opposite of every other mum's advice, ever. They say ‘stranger danger' – my mum says, “Hello stranger, have you met my daughters, here's a cup of tea.” Maybe I shouldn't delete the app just yet? It
was
nice to be appreciated. Maybe I could just post one more and see how it goes? I needed to pull out a big gun.

I racked my brain. Could someone please hurry up and invent Google search for heads? Burrowing
past
song lyrics to access actual memories was way too tough. Although . . . something did pop up. Something that would probably get quite a few likes.

I went to type, but stopped as I remembered the pact Tegan, Rachel and I had made to never breathe a word of this to anyone. But in the very same convo we'd made the same pact to never lie to each other. If they could break the rules, so could I. And if they hadn't broken the pact in the first place, then I wouldn't be spending my time trying to fill my friend-hole with internet likes. It was the least they could do.

MENS-UN-TRUE-ATION

MY FRIEND R CAUSED A MASSIVE MIX-UP ONE

GAMES LESSON WHEN SHE YELLED, “CAN I

BORROW A TOWEL?” EVERYONE FREAKED OUT

THINKING SHE'D JUST BECOME THE FIRST TO

START HER PERIOD. SO, FOR THE NEXT TWO

YEARS, INSTEAD OF 'FESS UP, WE HAD TO

HELP HER FAKE THEM – COMPLETE WITH

MONTHLY MADE-UP MOODY MOODS.

I smiled remembering what lengths we'd had to go to. We even staged buying some tampons so Lou would see us, but had to return them later when we realized
we
needed the money for emergency potato wedges.

But they were the old days.

I double-checked that I hadn't used any incriminating details and pressed post.
PSSSST
might be anonymous, but I wanted to be extra sure it stayed that way.

I wasted the next ten minutes doing an internet quiz to find out what flavour chewing gum I'd be (Sugar-Free Cinnamon) and tried to not pay attention to the fact that no one was paying my
PSSSST
any attention. But as I started a fifty questions quiz on what dog was my destiny, my phone beeped. Could this be the start of my internet-sensation-ing?

Oh no. Oh yes! It was way better. It was a message from Zac. I sat down on my bed, needing cushioning around me in case my bones jellified on reading.

Hey Bella/Bells for short. I'm in Worcester for a

college thing on Fri, isn't that your area? Wanna

meet Sat morn? Z

Thank goodness I had 360-degree mattress cushioning. Every bone, muscle and nerve failed me. I splodged on to the bed, not even able to coordinate bodily functions enough to blink. Zac, of being half kissed by me fame, was coming to visit
no-
friends-and-no-goalkeeping-skills me. This was major. This was happening. IN FOUR DAYS.

I threw the rule of waiting the obligatory seventy-five minutes or more to reply out of the window. Every second was a second he might change his mind.

Sure! What time? Be good to catch up.

‘Sure' – how funny am I?! As if I didn't mean ‘OF COURSE THIS IS THE BEST THING THAT WILL EVER HAPPEN IN MY LIFE (AND ALSO THE MOST TERRIFYING BUT YOU DON'T NEED TO KNOW THAT)'.

I grabbed my laptop and started a search-athon in case Zac was about to ask me for suggestions of what to do, seeing as it was me who lived here. I looked up ‘most romantic places in Worcester', ‘things to do on a first date', and also ‘Zac Black Bay photo' in case anyone had put anything up in the 24 hours since I'd last checked. As I waited for a reply, I also checked, ‘how to look fierce in the morning'.

Cool, 10am. By the Helga Statue? Though

it's meant to be crazy stormy this weekend –

lemme know if you want to rain check.

Ten
a.m.? What was he? A parent? Did he know Saturday firmly occurred in the period of time known as a ‘weekend'? In which plans should not be made before eleven a.m.?! I looked up the weather report. As if I cared about rain?! It was just like a shower, but outside. But the BBC brought joy to my heart. It didn't look stormy at all. I screengrabbed the evidence.

If you mean Elgar Statue, yup I'm in. And look –

weather's fine. Unless I'm talking hot air. . .

I attached the pic of my laptop screen. He wasn't using rain to, er, rain on my parade. I buried my head into my pillow. Am I on fire right now or what? Have I, Bella Fisher, become the kind of person who someone actually arranges to date? Well, at least meet up with someone for a period of time when they're in an area where they don't know anyone?

See you then. I will try to look fierce.

How did he know?! Great minds think alike. My stomach plummeted. Or maybe they don't. Maybe minds-which-you-send-a-picture-of-your-laptop-complete-with-completely-embarassing-search-terms-
about-
fierceness-and-looking-for-photos-of-himself-and-being-destined-to-be-a-Bulldog-in-your-tabs think alike. How could I be such a massive moron?! I can never message him again. I need to superglue my goalkeeping gloves on.

I flopped back and stared at the ceiling. The next 4.2 days were now project PFSZ. Preparing For Seeing Zac. Must make a list of all the slight exaggerations I've told him, to keep on top of them . . . and places to avoid. And people. And how to make sure Jo is NOWHERE near town to repeat sabotage.

I sat bolt upright as the reality of seeing him hit me. What on earth can I wear? Can I grow my hair the two inches I really want in sixty-six hours? Should I write a list of conversations I can start, so I come across as interesting and mature? Should I revise anything? I opened up a tab to stream BBC News. Watching the news is what Jo does – and programmes about bands in black and white on BBC Four. That must be what seventeen-year-olds do too. What else does she do? Wear actual perfume, be put up a year a school, and be on time for stuff. I can do that, easy. From now on she could be my muse. Although I mustn't let myself get brainwashed by how dull she can be.

Wowsers. What a day – maybe things were shaping
up
to be less than terrible. I may be two bessies down, but now I'm one huge, big, fat, massively exciting, real-life date up.

CHAPTER

FOURTEEN

I, Bella Fisher, am officially a lone wolf. But it doesn't bother me as much now I'm a lone wolf with a big woolfy date on the horizon. Ow-wooooo. Between chews on my gherkin sandwich, I glanced over at Rachel and Tegan. I'd like to say they were using their lunch to huddle round an effigy of me, sacrificing Year 7s in an attempt to show their repentance, but in reality they were just eating some Mini Cheddars. Gawd, I hated them (Rachel and Tegan, not Mini Cheddars). It's
so
unfair that I'm the innocent one here, yet I'm the one who's sitting with my B-list friends, watching
them
just eating crisps like nothing's happened. Well, I hope they get soggy globules stuck in their teeth and no one tells them for the entire afternoon.

Still,
B-list friends beat fake friends. I smiled up at Sarah. I'd spent every lunchtime with her since Hat-Gate. She hadn't mentioned the drama once, despite all the looks and whispers rippling around me wherever I went. She'd been nothing but nice to me, although in fairness I've never met a mean Sarah, ever. But somewhere deep down, hanging out just didn't feel right. I nodded my head along with the others at the table, channelling my efforts on smiling at the right points in her netball story. It was normally Tegan who dealt with sports chat that came our way, and I was out of my depth.

My pocket buzzed. It was another message from her.

Come over? We've got a sorry Babybel for you.

R&T