But then, omigod! As I uncurled my legs and clambered my way out of the car I saw that Jake had already gone round to the passenger side and was actually preparing to carry Maya up to the house. It was like something out of a cheesy romance movie. I do actually quite enjoy cheesy romance movies – sometimes – but this was just embarrassing! Maya was being poor little fragile me, and Jake was falling for it. Maybe it made him feel … I don’t know … manly. I know some boys like to feel that, just as some girls like to play helpless. I have too much pride! I’d have managed to stagger indoors without any help even if I’d had to hop on one leg. But that is just me.
“Let me go first!”
Rudely I pushed past them and raced up to the door. Auntie Megs must have been keeping watch – waiting, in her anxious way, for Maya to arrive home – because the door flew open even before I got there.
“Mattie!” shrieked Auntie Megs. “What’s happened?”
“Nothing; it’s nothing,” I said. “She fell off her bike, but she’s perfectly OK!”
Not that it looked like it, with Jake cradling her in his arms.
“Honestly,” I said, “she’s just grazed her hand. Nothing to worry about.”
But Auntie Megs worries about everything. She has this long list of rules that are designed to keep you safe. Rule No. 1, never go anywhere near a tree if you are out in a storm in case you get struck by lightning. Rule No. 2, never get into the first or the last carriage on a train in case the train gets hit by another train. Rule No. 3, never walk under a piece of scaffolding in case it collapses on top of you. The list is endless! So naturally, seeing a limp body being carried up the garden path she feared the worst. To be fair, I expect any mum would have. Even mine might have been a little bit alarmed. It was so over the top!
Maya was obviously basking in it, and I guess Jake was, too. He carried her through the house and set her down, very gently, on the sofa.
“There you go! No broken bones, but it was a nasty tumble.”
Nasty tumble? Whoever uses the word tumble? Unless they’re talking about a tumble dryer? Unless … maybe he had chosen the word specially, so as not to cause too much alarm. Maybe he’d thought if he said “a nasty fall” Auntie Meg would fly into one of her panics.
She was going to fly into a panic anyway. As soothingly as I could I said that Maya had just come off her bike. Like she hadn’t come off it a dozen times before.
“I knew this would happen!” cried Auntie Megs. “I’ve said all along, you shouldn’t be cycling.”
“We always wear our helmets,” I said.
“I don’t care, it’s still not safe! You could still get a concussion.”
I tried exchanging glances with Jake, but he was too busy concentrating on Maya and didn’t notice. I waited while Auntie Megs fussed about, checking for concussion by holding up a finger and telling Maya to follow it, then decided I’d had enough. I was used to Auntie Megs getting in a flap but I never thought I’d see Jake going all soft and drippy. Jake Harper was one of the coolest people on the planet! He was not only a prefect, he was also captain of the school football team.
But Auntie Megs does cleaning for his mum so probably, maybe, he felt duty-bound to show concern. Just not that much! I felt like screaming, “There’s nothing wrong with her!”
“I’ll go and get the bikes,” I said.
“Hang on!” Jake came after me. “I’ll give you a hand. Let me just take Maya’s in for her then I’ll run you home.”
Well! How could I say no? I am not someone that goes soft and drippy but there’s this girl that lives in my road, Linzi Baxter, that reckons all the boys fancy her. She’s in Year Eight along with me and Maya and is a really tiresome sort of person. With any luck she might be coming back from school in time to see me getting out of the car. And see who was driving it. That would give her something to think about! There aren’t many boys at our school get to drive their own cars. She’d certainly never gone out with one.
I suppose that is a bit shallow, really, but girls like Linzi, always so full of themselves, really do my head in.
“I’ll just go and tell Maya I’m off,” I said.
Jake came back in with me, wheeling the bike.
“Maya,” I said, “we’re going.”
“All right.”
She’d been sitting up but immediately flopped back down again, giving us this little trembly smile from out of her pile of cushions.
“See you tomorrow,” I said.
A sort of sigh escaped her. It was like “Mmmmmm …”
“I’m not having her back on that bike,” said Auntie Megs. “My nerves can’t stand it.”
“OK.” I shrugged. “We’ll take the bus.”
It isn’t any use trying to reason with Auntie Megs; it just gets her even more flustered. But I grumbled about it in the car.
“It’s such a drag, hanging around for the bus! Cycling’s perfectly safe, as long as you wear a helmet. It’s not like we’re in London! I could understand it if we were in London. But I mean, out here it’s, like – well! It’s just fields and stuff. Auntie Megs makes such a fuss!”
“I guess you can understand it,” said Jake. “Maya’s quite a delicate little thing, isn’t she?”
Oh, yuck!
“Not especially,” I said. “She just looks like she is. She’s actually quite tough.”
“No one would ever think it,” said Jake.
I felt like telling him that if he hadn’t been there Maya would simply have picked herself up and got back on her bike. She wouldn’t have had much choice, cos I wouldn’t have fussed and flapped over her! But I didn’t say anything, cos I didn’t want him thinking I was cold and heartless. It’s just that what with being born only weeks apart, and with our mums being twins, we’ve been brought up almost like sisters, so I really do know her inside out. It is only emotionally, like Auntie Megs, that she is a bit fragile, which is why I always feel I have to be there for her. Sometimes some of my friends get a bit impatient and say why do I bother, but it’s like a sort of duty. I couldn’t just turn my back. It was the only reason I’d agreed to get the bus instead of carrying on cycling by myself.
Linzi Baxter was unfortunately nowhere to be seen as we turned into Orchard Close. I guess it was a bit too much to hope for. She is the sort of person that is always there when you don’t want her to be and nowhere to be seen when you feel like doing a bit of showing off. Probably served me right. Showing off is very pathetic. I don’t usually stoop to it. Unlike Linzi.
I told Jake thanks for the lift, and he said no problem.
“Let me get your bike out for you … there you go!”
I hovered for a few seconds as he drove away, but there were still no signs of life from Linzi’s house. Unless perhaps she was peering from behind the curtain. I wouldn’t put it past her!
I wheeled my bike round the back and went in through the kitchen. Mum was on the phone. I heard her say, “Well, keep an eye on her. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“Was that Auntie Megs?” I said. “Telling you about Maya? She just fell off her bike; she didn’t do any damage. Well, apart from scraping her hand. Nothing to get fussed about.”
“No,