Destiny Date (13 page)

Will shrugs. ‘Ignore Sam,’ he mutters. ‘He’s been acting weird all week. He’s probably hormonal.’

Jeff lifts his head and blinks. ‘Has Sam gone home?’

‘It looks like it.’ Cindy stares at the door.

‘Fair enough.’ Jeff holds out David and Phil’s article. ‘This is great by the way. But I agree with Gemma. Maybe you could add a jargon-busting section at the
end?’

Cindy turns her gaze on the twins. ‘Can you do that?’ she asks sweetly. ‘And send me a revised copy by tomorrow afternoon?’

‘Sure.’ David takes the article from Jeff. ‘It won’t be too hard.’

‘Good.’ Cindy tucks her hair behind her ear. ‘Are we all set for bowling night on Thursday?’

Murmurs and nods ripple round the room.

I stare at her stupidly. ‘
This
Thursday?’ I haven’t thought about the webzine team outing since Mr Harris announced it last week.

Barbara leans forward. ‘Oh, Gemma. I’m so sorry. Mr Harris reminded us at the Year Ten assembly. We should have told you.’

Cindy takes over. ‘We’re meeting at the City Bowl at seven.’

‘Will you be able to get someone to pick you up afterwards?’ While Barbara clucks over me like a mother hen, Cindy’s gathering our articles into her Louis Vuitton.

‘Yeah,’ I tell Barbara distractedly.

‘If not,’ Barbara worries, ‘Cindy’s mum can drop you off. Right, Cindy?’

Cindy’s not listening. She’s rummaging for something in her bag. She seems twitchy. I guess Sam’s sudden departure unnerved her.

It unnerved
me.

I fight the urge to ask Cindy not to publish my piece. Why did I write about dating? I thought I was giving sound advice to the dateless. It turns out I was just spilling my guts about how hurt
I am.

And now Sam knows.

I’ll never be able to look at him again.

I’m lost in a cloud of misery. Around me people are moving and speaking, but it’s not until Cindy calls my name that I realize everyone’s gone.

I’m alone with the Ice Queen.

‘Gemma.’ Her pink-eyed look has gone and she’s putting on a fresh coat of lipgloss. She stops and smacks her lips together. She doesn’t even look at me. Her gaze is fixed
on her mirror. ‘If I publish your article on Wednesday, I want your solemn promise that you’ll show up as Jessica on Friday.’

I’ve
already
promised. But I nod.

‘Because if you don’t,’ she goes on, ‘I’ll never publish anything you write ever again.’

‘I’ll be there.’ I stand up. There’s no need for threats.

Cindy disagrees. ‘The whole school believes in Jessica Jupiter. She’s what keeps them reading the webzine. If you mess it up, you’ll never see your name in print
again.’

Treacle puts her arm round me. ‘Oh my God, Gemma. Why didn’t you say?’

It’s Wednesday, publication day, and Savannah and Treacle are crowding round me as I try and eat my lunch.

We’re in the dining room, at our favourite table. Sally and Ryan are at the far end, hunched over Savannah’s phone.

‘This is great advice, Gemma.’ Sally looks up from my article. ‘I don’t know why anyone thinks we need dates for the prom.’

Ryan clears his throat. ‘That’s not what you said last week,’ he says loudly. ‘You said that you’re only going to the prom with me because going alone looks
uncool.’

Sally’s face freezes. ‘I was just playing hard to get.’ She hurls me a desperate, apologetic look. ‘Going stag is
totally
cool.’

‘So it’s OK if I hang out with Bilal and Chris on Friday night?’ Ryan asks.

Clearly, he hasn’t read his horoscope yet. If he had, he’d know to keep his mouth shut.

Sally looks at him like a lion checking out a gazelle. ‘No, it would
not
be OK,’ she says slowly. ‘You’re taking me on Friday and, if you leave me for one
second, I will hunt you down and kill you.’

Ryan holds up his hands. ‘OK, OK. Point taken.’

They finish their double act and Savannah and Treacle swivel their attention back to me.

‘Your article doesn’t sound like you,’ Treacle comments. ‘It’s so bitter.’

Savannah’s gaze sharpens with suspicion. ‘Has some boy let you down?’

‘Why didn’t you tell us?’ Treacle gasps.

‘Who is it?’

‘Is it someone in our class?’

‘We didn’t even know you had your eye on someone.’

I push them away before I suffocate. ‘I was just trying to imagine it from a single girl’s point of view,’ I tell them.

‘You don’t have to imagine,’ Ryan grunts. ‘You
are
single.’

‘Thanks for reminding me.’ I take the last bite of my sandwich.

Writing an article about being single was the stupidest thing I’ve done in my life.

Treacle leans back. ‘Wait a minute.’ She looks at me puzzled. ‘You said you didn’t want a date.’

‘That’s true,’ Savannah nods. ‘We’ve tried to set you up, but you always say that you prefer being single.’

‘Which is exactly what I’m trying to say in my article,’ I point out.

‘But that’s not what it sounds like.’ Treacle reaches for Savannah’s phone and starts reading from the screen. ‘
She saw his mop of blond hair and swooned with
passion. His blue-blue eyes made her weak at the knees. And their first dance made her heart beat so fast she thought she would die
.’ She glares at me. ‘You sound totally in
love.’

‘
Imaginary
love,’ I lie. ‘I was trying to get what it felt like to be Cinderella.’

Savannah narrows her eyes. ‘Why on earth did you use the most famous first date in history to persuade people it’s better to be single?’

I open my crisps. ‘Cinderella isn’t history. It’s a fairy tale.’

‘But you totally changed the ending,’ Treacle complains. ‘Cinderella’s meant to have a happy ending. She doesn’t end up
single
.’

‘That’s why it’s a fairy tale and not history.’ I chomp a crisp and try to distract them from worrying about my love life. ‘Tell me a real-life, historical event
with a happy ending.’

‘The Industrial Revolution,’ Sally calls.

‘Began global warming,’ I counter.

‘The French Revolution,’ Savannah offers.

‘The guillotine.’ I wonder if she’s ever read a history book.

Treacle tries. ‘The Spanish Armada.’

‘I doubt if the Spanish would agree.’ I crunch another crisp.

Treacle drags her seat closer till she’s practically in my lap. ‘Gemma,’ she says seriously, ‘what’s going on? Why does reading your article nearly break my
heart?’

I look at her over my crisp packet.
Because Sam is taking Cindy to the prom instead of me.
‘I don’t know. Perhaps having a boyfriend has made you soppy.’ I offer her a
crisp. ‘It’s
OK
, Treacle. I just got carried away while I was writing. I’m happy being single. I’m not in love with Prince Charming. I have no prom date and
it’s really no problem.’

I stare into her eyes, hoping she believes me.

Treacle takes a crisp and pops it in her mouth. ‘OK,’ she says briskly. ‘If you say so.’

Thursday night, Dad drops me off at City Bowl. ‘I’ll pick you up at ten,’ he says.

‘I’ll be waiting,’ I promise.

I get out of the car and slam the door shut. A warm evening breeze lifts my hair as I wave him off. I head inside. It feels weird to be going in alone. Normally, I’d have my family with
me, or Treacle and Savannah. I feel naked without them.

Hi, Sam. Have you had a good week?
I run through conversations in my head.
I loved your webzine article. How did you find out that Boogie Machine were gigging at the prom? What did
you think of my article?

I’m flashing hot then cold. Perhaps I’ll just ignore him. He hasn’t made eye contact for a week. It should be easy enough.

I pass the arcade and head for the lanes.

Barbara spots me first. ‘Gemma!’ She waves me over.

Mr Harris, Mr Chapman and Miss Davis are huddled at the bar while Cindy and Barbara sit at the end of a lane. I spot Will pacing the floor behind them, while Phil and David check out the scoring
machine. Jeff’s lounging with his feet on a stool, his earbuds in, flicking through his iPod.

‘Isn’t Sam here yet?’ I stop beside Barbara, scanning the hall.

‘He’s not coming,’ Cindy says curtly. ‘Apparently, bowling’s not his sport.’

‘Oh.’ I try to sound casual even though thoughts are scrolling through my head like Twitterfeed.

Have they argued?

She looked pretty upset on Monday.

Perhaps he’s avoiding her.

Perhaps he’s avoiding me.

Perhaps he’s embarrassed about being Prince Charming.

Oh God, let me die.

I’m glad he’s not here.

At least I won’t have to talk to him.

‘Drinks!’ Mr Harris weaves towards us, his hands clutching cans and bottles. He manages to land them safely on a table, only slopping a few drops onto the floor. ‘Who ordered
Coke?’

‘Me.’ Jeff lifts his hand.

‘Orange juice?’ Mr Harris starts handing out drinks.

Miss Davis’s voice sounds behind me. ‘Gemma, you’re here. I think Mr Harris got you lemonade. Is that OK?’ She’s clutching a huge bucket of popcorn.

Mr Chapman follows her, a tray of hot dogs in his hands. ‘I hope none of you are vegetarian.’ He slides the tray beside the drinks while Miss Davis parks the popcorn on a chair.

Barbara claps her hands together. ‘Mr Harris, Miss Davis, you shouldn’t have. This is so kind!’

Miss Davis beams. ‘It’s a kind of celebration for us as well.’

‘Celebration?’ Barbara leans forward curiously.

Mr Chapman slides his arm round Miss Davis’s waist. It’s odd seeing teachers act like real people.

Jeff sniffs. ‘What are you celebrating?’

But Cindy’s already spotted the diamond sparkling on Miss Davis’s finger. ‘Oh, Miss Davis.’ She grabs Miss Davis’s hand and starts admiring.

Miss Davis looks coy. ‘Mr Chapman and I are engaged,’ she announces proudly.

My mouth drops open. ‘Engaged?’ Happiness thrills through me. I helped Savannah bring Miss Davis and Mr Chapman together on our Paris trip. While Savannah pimped Miss Davis’s
dowdy look, I steered them onto a ride at Parc Astérix. The stars did the rest. At least that’s what Savannah likes to believe.
I
think they were always destined to be
together, stars or no stars.

‘Congratulations!’ I grin.

Will stops pacing and stares. ‘Are we going to start bowling any time soon?’ He’s clearly not impressed by romance. I wonder if he remembers his horoscope.

I try to jog his memory with a quote. ‘Let’s
work up a sweat doing something fun.
’

He stares at me like I’ve gone nuts. So does everyone else.

Jeff hops to his feet and puts his arm round my shoulder. ‘Great idea, Gemma. You’re on my team.’

‘I hope you don’t mind if we sit this game out.’ Smiling, Mr Chapman leads Miss Davis away from the alley.

Mr Harris claps his hands together enthusiastically. ‘Which team wants me?’ he asks brightly. ‘I’m afraid I’m not a great bowler.’

‘We’ll have you, Mr Harris,’ Barbara pipes up.

‘Who’s
we
?’ Will asks warily.

‘Me and Cindy of course,’ Barbara chirps.

David looks at Jeff. ‘Phil and I will join you and Gemma, if that’s acceptable?’

Jeff grins. ‘Very acceptable.’

Will glances at Cindy unenthusiastically. ‘Which means that you’re stuck with me.’

‘I guess we are.’ Cindy looks him up and down. ‘We play to win, right?’ He’s a head taller than her but, judging from the steely look in her eyes, she’ll have
no trouble keeping him on message.

‘Sure.’ Will runs his hand through his hair. ‘Otherwise, what’s the point?’

Mr Harris bowls first. His ball rumbles halfway before dropping into the gutter. ‘I’ll get the hang of it soon,’ he promises.

Jeff’s up next. He gets a strike of course. Give Jeff a ball, any size, any colour, and he’ll know exactly what to do with it.

Will spends an age choosing his.

‘Just pick one,’ Cindy snaps.

‘I need the right weight,’ Will tells her without taking his eyes from the rack. ‘I thought you said we were playing to win.’

Jeff laughs. ‘I thought we came to have fun.’

‘Think again.’ Will picks a ball and swings thoughtfully.

‘You’d better get a strike after all this fuss,’ Cindy warns him.

Will meets her eye steadily. ‘I’m stuck with two girls and an English teacher,’ he growls. ‘I’m our only hope.’

Cindy puts her hands on her hips. ‘Oh, really?’

Barbara dips her hand into the popcorn bucket. ‘Don’t underestimate us girls,’ she tells Will.

Will’s experimenting with his stance at the head of the lane.

I roll my eyes and lean closer to Jeff. ‘It looks like Will’s taking bowling as seriously as he does everything else,’ I whisper.

‘He’ll loosen up,’ Jeff promises cheerily.

I’m not so sure. I can feel Jessica shaking her head in despair.
Didn’t he read his own horoscope?

He launches the ball down the lane. It rolls fast, curving at the end, and knocks the pins down with a clatter. He turns to Cindy and nods.