Keep the Faith (9 page)

Lily gave me a shove. ‘Faith would find it harder to shut up for five minutes. Don’t worry, Elliot, Angharad’s a bit nervous too, aren’t you, Ang? But we all know
you’re both really clever. You should give it a go. Doesn’t matter if you’re not as gobby as this lot.’

Angharad and Elliot exchanged a look. I think they were sympathising with each other, but I can’t be sure as it’s impossible for me to put myself in the place of a quiet person. Even
though I’m pretty sure Miss Ramsbottom and my granny would really like to put a quiet person in place of me.

Anyway, hopefully the whole gang will be getting involved in my debating club. Although, I might have to get Megs to work on Cam. I don’t mind if she snogs him or wallops him, as long as
she gets him there.

It was getting pretty chilly sitting about on the benches, so Westy suggested that we play a game to warm ourselves up.

‘What about Colour Run?’ he said.

Ethan started laughing. ‘We got banned from playing that.’

‘What’s Colour Run?’ I asked. ‘And why were you banned from playing it?’

‘We used to play it at primary school with Mr Sachs, didn’t we, Westy? He’d call out a colour and we had to run and touch something of that colour. Last person to find
something was out.’

Westy snorted with laughter.

‘What? What happened?’ Megs asked.

Ethan smirked. ‘One time we were playing and Mr Sachs called out, “Orange!”’

Ethan loves to string a story out so I said, ‘Yes? And? Come on!’

‘The only orange thing in the room was his tracksuit . . .’

Angharad’s little eyes stretched wide.

‘. . . He might have been all right if it hadn’t been Westy that got to him first.’

Westy gave Ethan a shove. ‘It wasn’t me that broke his leg!’

‘No,’ said Ethan. ‘It was the thirty other kids who piled in on top of you.’

We had a go at Colour Run for a while. Even though I don’t generally approve of being made to run about, it was quite good fun. I don’t know why, but we all seemed to enjoy dashing
about like a load of little kids. Maybe it was something to do with the fact that the game provided the opportunity to keep crashing into the opposite sex. Angharad was practically swooning after
she and Elliot enjoyed several highly-charged elbow bumps.

While we were still in a silly mood, we played Sardines. Whoever was ‘it’ had to hide and if you found them you had to get into their hiding spot with them so that eventually
everybody was squished into the same place like sardines. When it was Ethan’s turn to hide, I was the first one to find him in the little playhouse in the playground. I had to crouch to get
in the door. He was sitting on the tiny bench.

‘Welcome to my place,’ he said gesturing round.

‘Nice, I like what you’ve done with it. That empty crisp packet gives it a real shabby chic feel.’

He looked down at the small amount of bench left beside him and then raised his eyebrows at me. It was like he was daring me to sit down.

So I sat down. The whole of my left side was very nearly touching the whole of his right side.

‘Of course, eventually I’ll have a mansion,’ he said. ‘But this will do until I’ve found an elderly millionaire to befriend before he dies in suspicious
circumstances.’

‘You’ve clearly thought about this. I don’t know why teachers are always saying that young people don’t plan for the future.’

‘They love telling you you’ve got to plan, and organise and work hard; they’re obsessed with hard work.’

‘That’s because none of them are smart enough to get what they want by fast talking.’

‘True. Personally, I’ve always been glad I’ve got a big mouth to make up for my lazy spirit.’

I couldn’t help it. I looked at his mouth. He has got a big mouth. A rather nice big mouth. ‘Lazy or not, you seem like the kind of person who gets what he wants,’ I said.

His smile dropped and he stared right at me. ‘Not always.’

My heart was thumping at this point. Which was stupid because he can’t have meant anything by it. I ran a hand through my hair.

‘You’ve got a scratch,’ he said.

I looked down at my wrist. ‘Yeah, Megs ought to cover her nails with boxing gloves when she’s playing Colour Run.’

He reached out and very gently ran his finger along the raised red line on the back of my hand.

I swallowed.

He looked at me.

I looked at him.

The door crashed open and Westy came barrelling in.

Ethan had pulled his hand away and folded his arms. ‘Alright, Westy?’ he asked in a completely calm voice.

Westy beamed. ‘Got you! Man, it’s cramped in here, isn’t it? Faith, you’d better sit on my knee.’

Soon after that Megs and Cam found us and there wasn’t enough room for us all in the house so the game didn’t last much longer. Which was probably a good thing because I felt a bit
funny about Ethan.

On the way home, Megs said, ‘How long was it before Westy found you and Ethan?’

I tensed. ‘Not long.’

‘What did you talk about?’

‘You know what Ethan’s like; he was being sarky.’

‘And?’

‘And he may have touched my hand where your talons scratched me.’

‘He held your hand!’

‘He didn’t hold it. He was just pointing out where you’d grievously injured me.’

‘So he was tenderly comforting you in your hour of pain?’

‘Megan, shut up or I will find some specialist lawyers who sue people for causing injuries with their razor sharp nails and I will give them your name.’

She didn’t say anything else, but I know what she’s thinking. And she’s wrong. We all know what a joker Ethan is. He was just mucking about. And it wasn’t a big deal.

We went to Granny’s house. On the way there I got a text that said,
Bring biscuits. Make sure you close the garden gate when you come in
.

She’s abusing technology. There should be a website where I can report her.

I popped along to see the head of English today. I used all my persuasive powers to illustrate what an educational and empowering experience the debating club will be for
all those involved.

I said, ‘It’ll be, like, really good.’

Mrs Rainbird seemed unconvinced.

‘It will help improve our Speaking and Listening grades.’

That got her attention.

‘It’s a lovely idea, Faith.’

Why do people always say that things are a ‘lovely idea’ when they’re about to tell you that you can’t do something?

‘You have to remember that the English teachers have other after-school commitments and most of us have got young children too.’

‘All the more reason to get out of the house! It will be a refreshing break for you.’

She wrinkled her nose. ‘Hmm. I’ll bring it up at our department meeting tomorrow. That’s as much as I can promise.’

Which I took as a definite yes.

Dad thinks I should tidy my room. I think I should be allowed to express my teenage angst through underwear and chocolate wrappers on the floor. Since we disagree, I told
him that we’d have to wait for an independent arbitrator to sort things out.

He said, ‘Fine, but when your mother gets home she’ll say the same thing as me.’

‘I didn’t mean Mum! She’s not independent; you’ve got her under some sort of hypnotic spell – I can’t think of any other reason why she married
you.’

‘Let’s ask Sam then, shall we?’

‘I was thinking more of someone from the United Nations.’

‘You’ll have to do it eventually, Faith, so you may as well start now.’

‘I’ll do it later.’

‘This kind of laziness won’t get you far in life.’

I wanted to throw something at him, but I couldn’t be bothered to find anything.

Mrs Rainbird found me at registration this morning and said, ‘Good news, Faith! Mrs Lloyd-Winterson has agreed to run our debating club. She’ll see you at
lunchtime.’

There were several things wrong with that sentence. For starters, it’s
my
debating club. Secondly, nothing should ever involve me having to see anyone at lunchtime, unless
it’s the cook so that she can take my order.

Mrs Lloyd-Winterson is extremely ancient. Even older than Granny. Let’s hope they don’t plan to have the club in the library: I’m not sure Lloyd-Winterson’s heart could
take the stairs.

At lunchtime I scoffed my food down quickly. Megs said, ‘Are you just eating chocolate snacks today? That’s your second Penguin. Did you eat your sandwiches in Geography
again?’

I said, ‘I haven’t got much time. I’ve got to skip the filler and get straight to the good stuff. I’ll be spending the rest of lunch admiring Lloyd-Winterson’s neck
creases while I convince her to get this debating thing going, so that you lot get to see some boys.’

Lily said, ‘I like meeting people, but I’m only really interested in Arif in a boyfriend way.’

‘And I can see Cam any time I like,’ Megs said.

Which isn’t what they said when they were begging me to arrange some fraternising time with the boys. They both sounded extremely ungrateful for my sacrifice. Ang, on the other hand, said,
‘Thank you so much, Faith.’ And handed me her KitKat.

That’s more like it.

Before I’d even got to Mrs Lloyd-Winterson’s classroom she came up behind me in the corridor and said, ‘Good afternoon, Faith.’

I’m not sure whether I should be flattered or concerned that even the teachers who don’t teach me seem to know who I am.

She pointed me into her room and smiled. ‘I must say it’s pleasing to see an interest in the ancient art of rhetoric.’

I pulled my enthusiastic face.

‘Don’t wince, dear. With a little hard work, we’ll soon have this venture off the ground.’

I wasn’t keen on this talk of hard work, but I nodded my head anyway. Teachers love nodding. ‘Mrs Lloyd-Winterson, I thought that we should offer this opportunity to as many
intellectually-starved young people as possible.’

Mrs L-W raised her eyebrows. ‘Were you hoping to enlist from an orphanage?’

‘I was thinking more of the boys’ school.’

‘I see.’

And I could tell by her face that she did. Sometimes old people fool you into thinking they’re not paying attention by looking stupid and talking about how things cost several pence more
than they used to, but really, because their lives are so empty and they’ve got nothing else to focus on, the elderly are surprisingly good at sussing people out. I waited for her to tell me
that the whole thing was off.

She laced her fingers together and peered at me over them. ‘Faith, I’ve heard in the staffroom how last year’s choir turned into something of a youth club. Apparently, some of
the attendees had not the slightest grasp of musical theory.’

I widened my eyes to show my disgust that these musical idiots had the cheek to sneak into choir.

‘I will agree to speak to the English department at Radcliffe boys’ school if you will agree that the primary function of this club will be to participate in debates. Any socialising
must be secondary.’

And as she was saying it I swear there was the teeniest little ghost of a shadow of a hint of a smile on her face.

‘Oh yes,’ I said. ‘It’s all about the debating with just the smallest side helping of inter-school friendship.’

‘Then we are of one mind.’

I wouldn’t say that we’re exactly of one mind. I don’t really fancy sharing a mind with anyone who thinks it’s acceptable to wear a knitted waistcoat. But Mrs L-W seemed
happy so I just nodded again.

I went back to tell the girls that, thanks to me, the debating club is officially on. Then I graciously accepted their thanks and their crisps.

There’s been a lot of nodding today. I’m going to have to spend less time agreeing with people tomorrow or I’ll end up needing a neck brace.

I went to Juicy Lucy’s after school with Finn. We sat downstairs and after a while we were the only people in there. I must say it was nice to snog in the warm for
once.

The only problem was that after a few minutes I needed to burp. You’d think that my stupid body would be able to shut up for a bit so that I could enjoy the romance of Finn snogging my
face off in a smoothie shop, but no. There was an unmistakable pressure in my chest; I definitely needed to belch. I pulled back, but Finn’s face just followed me. I broke free, but he just
lunged in for another go. Things were getting desperate. I was starting to panic. What if I burped mid-kiss? I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed him back. His nose was now about ten
centimetres from mine, still not a safe distance to let off a belch-bomb. I ducked under the table and started to rummage about in my bag.

‘You all right, Faith?’ Finn asked.

‘Yep.’ I very quietly burped with my hand over my mouth. ‘Just needed my phone.’ I sat up straight again. Finn was watching me with a frown. It struck me that breaking
off from a passionate kiss to check your phone is probably quite bad manners.

‘Um, I just . . . wanted to show you this picture Westy sent me.’

I showed him Westy’s most recent text which was of a cat clinging on to a bald man’s head.

Finn laughed. ‘That’s pretty funny! It’s like the cat thinks he’s his hair or something!’

I gave a weak giggle.

Fortunately, my bubbling insides settled down and we were able to get back to the snogathon. In fact, we kissed for a really long time. We just kept going. My whole face is actually a bit achy,
but it was worth it. I don’t think I’ll ever have enough of kissing him.

When we finally dragged our lips apart to say goodbye, Finn said, ‘See you at football on Sunday?’

And I said, ‘I’m not sure what I’m doing. I’ll let you know.’

Which surprised me because I thought I was just going to say yes. But you know how my mouth is, always running away from me. My mouth has got a point though; going to football to admire
Finn’s legs and strange ability to kick a ball between two posts is fine once in a while, but I don’t want to only be known as a footballer’s girlfriend. And it would be a mistake
for anyone to think that I’m someone who just does what her boyfriend likes all the time.