With my mind still on Ben and Jasmine, it took me a while to register the pie. I should’ve moved quicker. Before I knew it, Em had scoffed her slice, snatched mine and was already gobbling it down.
“Emma!” Mum snapped. She only calls my sister Emma when she’s done something naughty.
“Starving,” Em mumbled between mouthfuls. “Col said she wasn’t hungry.”
I goggled at the empty pie dish. Maybe there were worse things than broken hearts after all.
Going back to school after half-term is always tough. You get into the holiday habit of late morning lie-ins, and then – wham! When I heard my alarm on Monday morning, I rolled over and turned it off, same as I’d done all week. Then I snuggled back down into my cosy duvet and drifted away again.
The next thing I knew, the covers had been whipped right off me.
“Coleen!” Mum said. “Don’t you realise that it’s eight fifteen? I’ve been calling you for the past twenty minutes. You’re going to be late – get a move on!”
I shot out of bed like my PJs were on fire. My usual bus reaches the stop at around eight twentyfive every morning. Getting the bus after is always pushing it as it usually gets caught up in the middle of Hartley’s rush hour. Besides, it wouldn’t have Mel and Lucy on it – and I seriously needed to talk to Lucy about Ben and Jasmine.
Mum left me to it as I swung around my bedroom like a boomerang. Knickers! An ironed shirt – some hope. Where was my school jumper? And my skirt?
“Mum!” I roared, hopping around as I wriggled into my tights. “Have you seen my—”
A jumper and skirt sailed through the door and landed at my feet.
“Cheers, Dad,” I panted as my dad shook his head and jogged down the stairs.
“See you later, Coleen!” Em called, heading out the door with Mum.
I yanked my tie over my head, slid up the knot like a lasso and took the stairs in one leap. (This is only possible if you get the angle right and try not to put all your weight on the banister. I took the banister off the wall this one time, but that’s another story.) Grabbing my school bag, an apple and a slice of bread, I sprinted through the front door and tore down the street like an Olympic athlete in uniform. Then I groaned. Despite my best efforts, I was too late.
Panting to a halt, I watched miserably as my bus honked past, gusting out a smelly whoosh of exhaust. Mel and Lucy were pressed to the glass, waving sympathetically at me, while Dave Sheekey – Ben Hanratty’s best mate and the most annoyinglad at Hartley High – pulled stupid faces at me out the window. Ten minutes to wait till the next bus, then twenty minutes of biting my nails as I got later and later for register. I slumped down on one of the bus-stop seats and pulled out my apple. It wasn’t all bad, I supposed. At least I could brush my hair. And I was sure I had some tic tacs somewhere…
At five to nine, I burst through the classroom door like one of those cowboys you see in films who gets hurled through a saloon window.
“Ta-da,” I declared. “Not late!”
“Whoop-de-doo,” drawled Summer Collins, my least favourite girl in the whole of my class. Summer’s mates Hannah Davies and Shona Mackinnon sniggered on cue as Summer pushed back her long blonde hair with one hand. Hello? I thought. Who is she trying to impress?
“Sit down, Coleen,” our form teacher Mr Andrews said. Mr Andrews is OK, if you dig goatees and physics. “We’re almost at the end of register.”
I hurried to my seat and flopped down beside my mates. “Lucy,” I began, keen to get to the bottom of the whole Ben/Jasmine thing as soon as possible.
“Ravi Singh?” Mr Andrews read from the register. “Daniel Thorburn?”
As Ravi and Daniel grunted at Mr Andrews, I realised Mel and Lucy were both looking weirdly at me.
“What?” I said, my hand going instantly to my head. Doing a high ponytail at a bus stop without a mirror never really works. Did it look totally awful? I’d never seen Lucy looking so pale and agitated. She didn’t normally get freaked out by bad hair.
“Coleen,” Mel whispered, “you know the footie at the weekend?”
“Like I’m going to forget what an idiot I made of myself,” I said, lolling back in my chair. I couldn’t work out why Mel was talking so quietly. No one ever whispered at register. “That Frankie lad we met was nice, wasn’t he? I think he liked you, Lucy.”
“Shhhhh!” Lucy hissed wildly.
“Tanya Williams?” Mr Andrews went on.
“Here, sir,” said Tanya.
“And last of all, our new face,” Mr Andrews said. “Frankie Wilson?”
At Frankie Wilson’s name, I let out a loud snort. Again. Oh noooo. I swung around and gawped at the familiar-faced lad sitting at the back of the room. Frankie Wilson? Here at Hartley High?
“Present,” said Frankie Wilson with a smirk. “And may I thank the lovely laydee two tables down for such a warm welcome.”
I blushed like a tomato, while everyone in the room – especially Summer and her mates – laughed themselves sick. Lovely laydee? What a creep!
“Urrrrrgh,” I growled at Mel and Lucy as Frankie Wilson capered around the back of the classroom, taking bows like some kind of clown while the whole room cheered. He had his blond hair gelled into spikes, and was wearing his school tie undone nearly to his belt. What was he playing at? I caught Summer’s expression. She was totally drinking it in. Then I realised Summer’s hair-tossing earlier had all been for Frankie’s benefit. Tragic!
“What a loser,” said Lucy as we all filed out of the classroom and headed for drama. “And he seemed so…nice at the footie.”
“Lads always act like idiots in school, I guess,” I said. It was pretty generous of me, given that my pride was still hurting.
“Especially when they’re new,” Mel agreed. “They’ve got to be all look-me-tough-guy, you know?”
I slung my arm around Lucy. “You OK?” I asked.
“I guess,” Lucy mumbled. “It was just a shock, that’s all.”
“Talking of shocks,” I said, keen to move on from Frankie Wilson, “what’s going on with Ben and Jasmine Harris?”
Mel gasped as I told them what I’d seen in the park after the footie. Lucy on the other hand didn’t look very surprised.
“Jasmine was round ours most of half-term,” she said. “It was really weird having her in the house. I was going to tell you at the footie, but then we met Frankie and…I kind of forgot.”
“You really do like him, don’t you?” I said.
“I did,” Lucy said sadly. “But I don’t any more. Who could fancy an idiot like that?”
“Summer Collins,” I said. “Did you see all that hair-flicking back there?”
“That’s what all that was about!” Mel said, acting all amazed. “There I was thinking maybe she was just swatting a bunch of flies around her head!”
Lucy gave a glimmer of a smile. Even though we were doing our best to cheer her up, I could guess how she was feeling. Stupid, and annoyed, and disappointed. I thought about Ben and sighed. It looked like love just wasn’t going our way.