Brave New Girl (2 page)

I worked out the plan in the last lesson, which was IT. I also looked up the word ‘gauche', which meant socially awkward and not clumsy. Miss Tunks got it
so
wrong.

Our IT teacher, Mr Choudry, always got caught up with Sanjay and Ed, who never did any work, so I could have a good think about how to get Luke and Sasha together. I explained the plan twice to Keith.

He wasn't convinced. “It's rubbish, Seren, no way is it ever going to work,” he hissed at me. “What are you going to do? Apart from blackmailing Luke Beckford into asking Sasha out, I don't see how you can
make
something like that happen. It's not like you can force someone to fancy someone else, is it?”

“Not blackmail, Keith! And not forcing! It is possible. My mum reads about it all the time in her books. You just have to get the boy to see exactly what he's missing. Luke's problem is he only sees Sash in school. If he knew her better….”

“I thought you said she has loads of irritating habits, like doing those really smelly burps when she's eaten cheese-and-onion crisps, and farting in bed?”

“If I'd wanted negative I would have asked Christina!”

“And she would never have answered, even if you gave her cash.”

I flicked a look over at where Christina was sitting with Ruby and Shazna. Where we used to sit before
Christmas. Before the show. I felt my skin prickling, and had to take a deep breath. There was no question – I
was
socially awkward. Miss Tunks was right.

Keith made a face. “Seren, I'm sorry, OK? I shouldn't have said that. You know me, foot in mouth.”

“No, you shouldn't have.”

“Go on, Seren, I'm listening. So, your sister, Sasha, and Luke Beckford…” I could see he was trying to sound more interested.

I looked at him. It was better having one true friend, I thought, than three crap ones. Keith might be a boy, but he was nothing like Ed, who had the start of a beard already, or Sanjay, who towered over all the teachers. Keith was stick thin, shorter than most of the Year Sevens and knew more about films than anyone.

“Seren?”

I'd known him since I was six, when I met him swinging his legs against the counter in the
Paradise International Food and Wine Supermarket
on our estate. Our mums got chatting and then we got chatting.

“I'm sorry.” Keith drew a little smiley on the corner of my IT notebook. “It'll work,” he said. “We'll make it work, OK?”

Me and Keith walked home by the canal. My little brothers, Denny and Arthur, were at after-school club and Mum had texted to say she'd pick them up after her shift driving the bus, cos Denny had some good news. I thought it must be very good news to have tempted her away from Jenny Darling's latest bestseller.

It was the second really sunny day this year and the blossom was out, and there was a family of fluffy ducklings swimming over the water towards the Olympic Park. Me and Keith watched as the mummy duck led her babies under the chain-link fence, and across the brand-new grass towards the huge, dazzling stadium that looked so new and shiny it could've landed from outer space.

“It looks unreal,” I said.

“I can't imagine all the people,” Keith said, staring. “My mum says we're going to clear out the spare room and rent it for a packet. It's going to be amazing, don't you think? All those people, from all over the world!”

“Never mind the Olympics! It's Luke Beckford we've got to sort out. He's got to understand that Sasha is the one for him. He goes to your shop, doesn't he?”

“Yeah, sometimes. Sundays after football on the Astroturf. He buys those energy drinks.”

“Well then – we get them both in at the same time. I'll make sure Sasha's wearing something nice – not too much lip gloss – and she'll talk to him and he'll realise how pretty and everything she is….” I shut my eyes and imagined the scene. It would be like the back cover of one of Mum's romances.

It would be the first time Luke would see Sasha, like, really see her. I'd be talking to her over in the cereal aisle, and she would be cool and funny like she could be when she wasn't tongue-tied under the weight of her crush, or when her so-called best mate wasn't giggling for England. Luke would hear her from over by the big chiller and come round the corner, and time would sort of slow down.

I opened my eyes. “It's possible. I mean, if they can build all this from nothing, then getting Sasha and Luke together has got to be a breeze.”

“Seren, your sister…”

“Yes? What are you saying, Keith? Are you saying she's not good enough for Luke Beckford or something?”

“No, Seren, of course I'm not. It's just, well... getting people hooked up like that, it doesn't work in
real life, does it?” He looked at me seriously. “I mean, it's just a meeting in a supermarket, it's not a date, not like going to the cinema or out for a meal. I just think you shouldn't get your hopes up.”

“I'll make it work. Didn't I fix it last term when my little brothers wanted to go Trick and Treating and needed outfits?”

“Yeah, but people's feelings are a load more complicated than black bin-liners…”

“I know that! Well then, didn't I sort it out when you thought you wanted to go to Summer Uni and do Media last year, and your mum wanted you to do extra Maths?”

“I know! But that's different too! Seren, you never listen.”

“But Keith, I can do this too, I can make things happen, good things! I know it!”

“Denny's choir's been picked for the Opening Ceremony!” Arthur, my youngest brother, ran out of the house and into my arms. He was squealing high and loud, and his five-year-old face was pink with excitement.

“Have you been at the Cherry Coke again, Arthur?” I said. I hoped not. If he had he'd be up all night bouncing off the walls and no amount of
Frog and Toad at Home
would get him off to sleep.

I had hardly walked through the door when Mum hugged me so hard I thought I was going to faint. “He's right, Seren! Our Den! Singing at the Olympics, with all the world watching!”

Denny was cramming his mouth with Iceland sausage-rolls – his favourite.

“Denny'll be famous!” Arthur said, and grinned at me.

“Isn't it fantastic?” Mum said again. She swooped on Denny and kissed the top of his head. Denny pulled away. “You're a star, Den!”

“It's not just me, Mum, it's the Year Six choir. Miss Khan said we were wonderful, and that man off the telly who did the auditions said we was wonderful too.”

“So no one noticed you singing flat, then?” I said, helping myself to a sausage roll before they all disappeared into the black hole that is my biggest little brother's mouth.

“Mum!” Denny said, his voice gone from proud to whiny in seconds.

“Will you stop teasing him, Seren?”

“Oh, Den, you know I'm pleased really,” I said, and he smiled again.

“All the Olympic boroughs could put forward one primary and one secondary school choir,” Denny said, spraying sausage roll as he spoke.

“And it's Denny Denny Denny from Gains–borough!” Arthur was jumping up and down, Mum joined in and then we were all dancing round the kitchen, holding hands, while Denny sang his tune at top volume –
London World in One City
. We were still at it when Sasha and her mate Fay came in.

“Oh My God!” Sasha said. Fay had her hand in front of her mouth, but you could see she was practically choking, trying not to laugh. Fay was sort of all right, but it didn't help that Christina was her younger sister. I imagined she'd be double-quick to tell her all about how nuts that Seren was as soon as she got home.

Arthur ran towards her, his hands sticky with sausage roll, and she only just managed to swerve to avoid a pink'n'yellow, flaky-pastry cuddle. “Fay-ee!” he squeaked.

But they'd both gone upstairs in seconds. Mum shouted up about Denny, and Sasha shouted something back that sounded like ‘great', then slammed the bedroom door.

I started clearing away the sausage-roll mess. “She should be down here,” I said. “With us.”

Mum turned the tap on for the washing-up. “Oh, leave her, Seren. Her and Fay have got grown-up stuff to deal with. You could always call Christina. She hasn't been round for a bit, has she?”

I changed the subject quickly. “Mum! I am grown-up too!” I said, putting a plate in the sink. “I'm 13. I read to Arthur, I do the dinner some days when you're working late. I do the laundry too! Sasha's
supposed to do the ironing but she never does, she's rubbish!”

“I didn't mean that, love,” Mum said. “‘Course I didn't. In a lot of ways you're about five years older than Sasha. You're ten times better with the little ones, and you're great at school.”

I cringed, thinking about Miss Tunks.

Mum squirted some washing-up liquid into the bowl and looked out into the back yard. “You've always been so helpful, love.”

From upstairs there was the sudden blast of the RnB number one, so loud the window almost rattled in the frame.

“Oh, go and tell them to turn it down, Seren,” Mum said. “How am I ever going to be able to read with that row going on?”

Upstairs, in our bedroom, Fay and Sasha were trying on false eyelashes.

“Mum says to turn it down,” I said, shouting over the music and sitting down on my bed.

“What d'you reckon, Seren?” Sasha turned towards me and batted her new, improved ultra lashes.

“I think she looks gorgeous!” Fay said, batting hers back. “No surprise Luke wanted your picture!”

Sasha flushed pink.

“Did he?” I said. “Luke Beckford?” I couldn't help feeling excited for her.

“No, Luke Backwards, who d'you think?” Sasha snapped. The look she gave me could have broken mirrors.

I kept my mouth shut. I would have liked to ask Fay how Christina was doing, if she ever said anything about me. But I didn't. In the old days Fay would have been here with Christina and it would have been all of us together having a laugh. They'd do my make-up and let me join in. Now Fay and Sasha talked to each other close and low so I couldn't hear.

I had promised myself, after what happened with Christina, that everything would change. That I wouldn't let it get to me. That I'd come back to school for the spring term completely different: sorted, mature. If she didn't want to be mates any more it would be her loss, not mine. Things were different all right, but I didn't feel any more grown-up. I felt as if I was on the edge of everything, that I didn't belong anywhere. Even in my own room.

Maybe Mum was right, maybe it was just that they were older now, Sash and Fay. And it wasn't the fake eyelashes, which I had to say didn't look too mad once they'd got them on right. They'd be leaving
school for good in a few months and it was a bit like they'd outgrown everything: school, me, and our tiny bedroom.

I wanted to tell both of them about what I was planning, about how Sasha would get to go to the Prom with Luke if I had anything to do with it.

I picked up a magazine, but there was nothing in it, and before I got to the worst-dressed pages Sasha said, “Seren?”

“Mmm?” I kept looking at the magazine. I didn't want to seem too desperate.

“Me and Fay were wondering if you'd do us a favour?”

I folded the magazine shut. I would have done anything.

“Would you run over to your little mate's shop and get us a Freddo each – you can get one yourself, but don't tell the boys cos they'll only want something too.”

I felt my heart sink. Really sink, like the lift going all the way to the bottom level of the underground car park in Canary Wharf. This was not supposed to happen.

It used to be
us
getting rid of the boys with promises of biscuits or something on the telly. Now
they were getting rid of me. I smiled, even though I felt like I'd been hit by a netball right under the ribs. All the breath knocked out of me.