Peppermint Kiss (3 page)

At break, Summer showed me where the loos were and I got a chance to dry off my hair and shirt under the hand dryer. The nun tights were still soggy and stretching evilly. At this rate they were only ever going to fit someone eight foot tall, so I took them off and threw them in the bin. My make-up was so wrecked the only choice I had was to scrub it all off. Which meant I'd be stuck like that for the rest of the day – bare-faced. Yikes. Kids were probably going to be staring at me in the corridor, asking each other, “Where
has
that girl's head gone?”

How on earth could I forget to bring any make-up to school? How could Summer not have any with her? I did get why not, actually. Some girls don't need it. Summer looked amazing with just a slick of Lypsyl – her eyelashes were naturally full and dark, her skin was peachy and her cheeks were slightly flushed in a gorgeous way you could never achieve with a blusher brush. Grrr. I'm not saying I wished she could be ugly for
ever
or anything, but maybe just for the day, because standing next to her was making me look even
worse
.

“I'll bring you some uniform stuff I've grown out of,” she offered, and I just automatically said, “Oh thanks, that's really sweet, but I'll buy it new.”

She peered at me. “Oh, okay.” She looked a bit shocked. “It's just better to reuse stuff, isn't it?” she said then. “You know, reduce, reuse, recycle and all that.”

Huh. I mean, obviously we put our bottles and cans out for the recycling truck like everyone else, but I'd never thought having second-hand uniform could be seen as a
good
thing. New was just better…wasn't it?

Lots of things were different here though.

Like, at my old school we all did our ties in a certain way, with only the thin bit hanging down. We thought it made us look so individual. But now I realized it just made us all look the same. The kids here who even had ties
on
were wearing them in so many different ways – short, fat knot, skinny, loose, even just the regular way. Anyone who'd turned up like that at my old school would have been teased so badly, it wasn't worth it…but here no one seemed to care.

So then I said yes please to Summer's offer of uniform, pretending it was only because I wanted to be green, and not also because – as I'd remembered – we couldn't actually afford anything new.

When I'd finished making myself look even
less
attractive in the loos, we went into the dining hall. The canteen was open for snacks and I realized all at once that, a), I was starving hungry and, b), I'd forgotten to bring any money with me. Then I remembered that I didn't have any money
to
bring, and that was such a weird feeling. Dad was always slipping us tenners, he paid for our phones by direct debit, and I had a monthly allowance for supplies for making my soaps and stuff, plus any clothes or downloads I wanted.
Used
to have, I realized with a start.

Summer pulled an apple out of her bag and crunched into it. I followed her to a table and we sat down. “Don't you want anything?” she asked, gesturing towards the counter, where the boys were queuing.

“Oh, I'm fine, thanks,” I said breezily, hoping my stomach wouldn't rumble. “I had a massive breakfast.”

Actually, I'd been too nervous to eat anything that morning, and I'd forgotten to bring the sandwiches Mum had made me (the Price Cutter white bread, marg and cheap cheese spread hadn't looked exactly
appealing
, but I'd happily have wolfed them down now). Thank goodness I'd filled up an old water bottle I had in my bag, so I could glug that at least.

Marco and Ben came over then, each stuffing down an iced bun as they walked. My stomach lurched with envy. But then Ben put a plate down in front of me with a white-iced one on, and grinned. “Got you this.”

I felt flustered. “Thanks, but…I'll have to owe you. I—” In panic, I reached for something to say. “I forgot my purse.”

He beamed again and said through a mouthful of iced bun, “On me. Welcome present.”

I thanked him and tucked in. See? Told you. Good vibe.

We all chatted a bit (I didn't say much about me – I didn't feel ready to go there yet). Mostly, they filled me in on the school. They reckoned I'd had bad luck that morning, getting Mr. Carver first off. He was the strictest teacher in the entire school, apparently.

They also told me about a Media Diploma option that was all design and film-making and photography and that kind of thing. They'd started it that year and you could do it right up to Year 11 and it counted as five GCSEs in the end. I'm really interested in all that kind of stuff, so I planned to put myself down for it at my lunchtime meeting with my form teacher, Mrs. Lurman. “I'm going to ask her about joining the lacrosse team too,” I said. “And the swimming club. How long's your pool?”

“Erm, we don't do lacrosse,” said Summer. “And there's no pool here.”

“Oh,” I said, blushing enough to power the whole of Totnes.

“You can take the girl out of posh school, but you can't take posh school out of the girl!” Marco joked, making me blush even more, probably enough to power most of Devon.

Summer shot him a killer look, then turned to me. “There's one at The Pavilion in town though,” she said. “That's the leisure centre.”

“The school swimming club meets there every week,” Ben added. “My mate Zak goes. He says it's a laugh.”

“And there's hockey in winter and netball at the moment,” said Summer.

“Oh, that's good,” I mumbled. “I like netball too.”

While we were talking I tried really hard to act normal around Marco. But once or twice I found myself staring at him like some kind of crazy stalker. I had to tear my eyes away and make myself look at Summer and Ben too, and other places people usually look when they haven't been struck down by a
massive
bone-shaking crush
, like at the table and round the room.

“Are you up for coming to Marco's next gig?” Summer asked.

“Oh, are you in a band then?” I found myself asking him. Duh. Stupid question.

“Yeah, Headrush,” he said, as I tried to look at him in a normal, how-interesting-tell-me-more way and not an intense, staring, you-are-the-most-gorgeous-boy-I've-ever-seen way. “It's me and some guys from Year 10,” he added. “I play lead guitar. We're kind of like The Clash, with a bit of Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly thrown in.”

Summer snorted. “You
wish
!” Then she turned to me. “It's in a couple of weeks. It's a sort of showcase for the Saturday Music Club we have here. My dad's driving me and Ben up there, so we can get you on the way if you live in town.”

“Yeah, I do, well, more on the edge,” I muttered, thinking that I'd have to go and stand on the corner of the street to wait for Summer's dad – no way was I letting any of them see the manky flat. That's if we were still
here
in two weeks. It was great to be invited though – and on my first day, too. And if Marco was going to be onstage, well, that was a
licence
to stare at him, wasn't it? “Is it far away then?” I asked.

“It's at Dartington,” said Ben. “It's this big old hall where they have films and theatre and loads of eco stuff going on. It's really cool, you'll like it.”

“We'll have to put up with his racket, unfortunately,” Summer said, “but some of the other bands are okay. You can always listen to your iPod while he's playing, that's what I do.”

“Charming!” Marco cried, jabbing her in the ribs. “You're being a right cow today, by the way, even more than usual.”

“The cheek!” screeched Summer. “You can buy me a drink for that!” She slapped him one and they had a bit of a wrestly muck-about, which gave me a horrible lurching feeling in my stomach. Had I got this wrong? Were they more than just friends?

Were they together?

It's not like they had their arms round each other or anything obvious, but…all the mucking about, and then, at the counter, reaching for their drinks, they just seemed so close and connected…

If Marco was Summer's boyfriend that put him seriously off limits.

I just
had
to know.

Ben was saying something I didn't quite catch, about a wildlife sanctuary, I think, when I smiled and cut in, trying to sound casual. “So, those two, are they going out?”

He actually
laughed
at that. “Yeah, as
if
. They've been mates for years, they're more like brother and sister.”

I felt so relieved I had to clamp my mouth shut to stop myself from yelling, “WHOOPIEEEEEEEE!”

But then he spoiled it a bit by saying, “Marco's great and all that, but if he was going out with someone he'd have to give up his Year 8 fan club,
and
stop flirting with anything in a skirt. I don't see that happening any time soon.”

That set my head spinning. He'd flirted with
me
. I'd thought it meant something but…

I desperately wanted to say to Ben, “You say he'll flirt with anything in a skirt, but just to be clear, what if the
skirt
was a repulsive pea-green one, accessorized with ever-expanding nun-thickness tights and squelchy brown loafers? Surely if someone looked like that and he still flirted with them it would
have
to mean something? Wouldn't it?”

I didn't say that, of course. I have got
some
self-respect. Okay, so probably only a tiny bit after the whole see-through-shirt episode that morning, but
some
.

“Anyway, what about you?” Ben was saying, as I came back to reality. “Seeing anyone? Course you are. Some rude boy from London. No, wait – a posh one, I bet. Crispin.
Tarquin?
”

“No one,” I said distractedly, “and after the whole drowned-rat/scary-clown fandango that
everyone
saw this morning, I might as well become a nun. I've already got the tights for it. That or just wear a bag on my head for the rest of my life.”

I braced myself for Ben to join in with the mickey-taking – that's why I got in there first. I mean, that's what boys do, isn't it? Put you down, for a laugh. That's what Jake and his lot from The Royal School used to do anyway, when me, Em and Zo hung out with them in Walpole Park. But Ben just smiled at me, swung his bag over his shoulder and said, “Come on, I'll show you to the science block. The early birds get the least disgusting lab coats.”

Science was okay. The teacher was nicer than Mr. Carver and, apart from looking headless, I managed not to do anything to embarrass myself. Then Summer bought me lunch, luckily, because they all thought I'd forgotten my purse. I promised to pay her back, even though she insisted it was fine.

The rest of the day went okay, too. Mrs. Lurman said there was a space on the Media Diploma and gave me the website address with all the info on, so I could look at it with Mum (I needed her permission to do it). I didn't mention that we don't have a computer at the flat (and that we might not even have a
flat
after this evening). I just printed off the stuff at last break in the library instead. She also said I'd need to get some navy-coloured uniform as soon as possible, and I said, “Believe me, I'll go shopping the first chance I get, it's not as if I
enjoy
looking like this!” We both laughed a bit at that and I didn't say that we hardly had enough money for food, let alone new uniform. Thank goodness for Summer's offer.

Ben and Summer headed off as soon as the final bell went, to catch their bus, and I was left with Marco. I was just trying to think of something both hilariously funny and deeply meaningful to say, when he asked, “Fancy getting a coffee in town?”

Well, of course I did! All this stuff started running through my mind, like
Does this mean he likes me too?
Or maybe he just always goes up there with whoever's around, and today it just happens to be me.
Or perhaps he actually just wanted a coffee and didn't fancy sitting on his own.
I was about to say yes, but then I thought of Mum, and Saff and Grace, and suddenly I just desperately wanted to know how they were. “I'd love to, normally,” I managed to mumble, “but I can't. I promised Mum I'd go straight home. First day and all that.” I fumbled with the key to my locker and finally got it open. My jumper was still in a soggy heap at the bottom.

“Oh, okay, no worries. I could walk back with you,” he said then.

I was just about to say,
That would be great, thanks
, but then I realized that I'd have to ask him up for a drink, and then he'd see the awful flat, and perhaps lots of rowing or crying, and possibly a RAT. He'd definitely think I was a total loser then, and I was trying to
reverse
that impression. So instead I found myself saying, “Oh, no, it's fine, thanks. My sister will be waiting for me anyway and—”

“Oh, right,” he mumbled. Then when I tried to give him his blazer he just backed away, saying, “Keep it till tomorrow, or whenever, whatever.” He turned and strode off down the corridor, throwing a “laterz”, over his shoulder.

OMG – he gave me the “laterz” treatment. I nearly called out to him, but I stopped myself. I mean, what would I say?
Sorry, but can you not be in a mood with me because I do in fact have an agonizing, brain-numbing crush on you and I am desperate for us to go for coffee even if you don't actually mean it to
mean
something, but my family have been through a lot recently and I really do honestly need to get back to them
. Erm, I don't think so.

I sighed, picked up my soggy jumper and headed out. Grace was there, waiting for me at the gate. And Saff too – she'd come down from the bus stop to walk with us.

“So, how was it?” I asked them.