Rebecca Rocks (15 page)

More sweet-making practice today! This time we were back in
my house, which meant that we had to put up with the sound of my parents singing songs from
Oliver!
all afternoon. Clearly all those years of yelling at her long-suffering daughters have taught Mum how to project her voice because you could hear her bellowing all over the house.

‘Sorry about this,’ I said, as the strains of ‘Pick a Pocket or Two’ echoed around the kitchen. ‘I thought they were going on one of their boring trips to the garden centre today. But they’ve gone musical mad.’

‘I actually quite like it,’ said Alice. ‘I mean, they can
actually
sing.’

‘What?!’ I said. ‘Alice, are you sure all the loud music of the last few weeks hasn’t damaged your ears?’ But she insisted she found the sound of my mum crooning ‘Who Will Buy This Wonderful Morning?’ at top volume delightful. I don’t know what’s come over her. At least Cass had an excuse for
tolerating
my parental warbling (though she wasn’t quite as
enthusiastic
about it as Alice). She’s in a very good mood because Liz is coming home on Monday.

‘We only got together about five minutes before she went off to Connemara!’ she said. ‘It’s so unfair. Well, you know what that’s like,’ she added to me.

‘I do,’ I said. Though I didn’t add that when Paperboy left I knew he wasn’t coming back and Cass knew Liz would be back in three weeks. That would have been a bit churlish.

Anyway, the fudge turned out pretty well (possibly because we put on loud music to drown out my parents, and then danced around to it as we stirred, which kept us full of
enthusiasm
). In fact, it was our best yet.

‘You know,’ I said. ‘We could actually start selling this soon.’

‘I dunno,’ said Alice. ‘Didn’t your mum say we needed, like, a food licence or something to sell things to the general public? And I think if you sell food someone has to come and inspect your kitchen.’

‘Oh yeah,’ I said. ‘Hmmm.’ I looked around our kitchen. On the counter, next to the mixing bowl, was a big pile of magazines, a cup half full of cold tea left over from this
morning
and a bag of Bumpers’ cat food. I don’t think it would pass any official inspections.

‘Well, we’ve got to start somewhere,’ I said. ‘Newspapers always have articles about people who start businesses in their kitchens. It can’t be that hard.’

‘We could always try building up a potential customer base,’ said Cass.

‘You sound very business-like, Cass,’ I said. ‘I’m impressed.’

‘I thought you would be,’ said Cass. ‘Anyway, I was
thinking
we could give some away next week. When we do our gig at the end of the camp.’

‘Wow, that’s actually a good idea,’ I said. ‘Maybe we could even make the little boxes! With that logo you designed.’

‘Yes!’ said Alice. ‘Though we’d have to find lots of boxes.’

We decided we could sort those details out later. After all, it’s almost two weeks until the final gigs. Well, a week and a half. Then we sat around in my room and ate the fudge and talked about the camp.

‘Sam’s really nice, isn’t he?’ said Cass.

‘So’s Lucy,’ said Alice. ‘Though she’s very quiet.’

‘I don’t think she likes me,’ I said.

‘Why on earth do you think that?’ said Alice.

‘I dunno,’ I said. And I didn’t really. Mostly because she doesn’t say anything. Then I thought of something. ‘The other day she just stared straight past me when I saw her in the foyer. And whenever I talk to her and Sam she doesn’t say
anything
, she just looks like she’s looking down on me.’

‘She is looking down on you,’ said Cass. ‘Because she’s, like, four inches taller than you. That’s not her fault.’

‘I think you might have a bit of a complex about tall people,’ said Alice. ‘I don’t think you like them.’

‘What?!’ I said. ‘That’s ridiculous. Look at my family! They’re all fairly tall apart from me. I take after my granny on my dad’s side, but my whole family are, like, giants.’

Cass and Alice looked at each other in what I’m sure they thought was a very wise way but which was just really
irritating
instead.

‘Exactly,’ said Alice. ‘That’s why.’

I hate it when they think they’re psychologists.

Anyway, as I told them, I don’t dislike Lucy. I just think she doesn’t like me. Which isn’t the same thing at all.

It is Rachel’s birthday on Thursday. She is going to be seventeen. I suppose I should get her something though I am not sure she deserves it. Her oh-so-perfect boyfriend Tom is back from his holidays, and he called over to our house this afternoon when our parents were out at the garden centre buying pots and
compost
and other boring things (if only they’d actually gone out
yesterday when my friends were here). Rachel basically forced me out of the sitting room so she and Tom could have it to themselves. I shudder to think what they were up to, although when I said that to her she got really annoyed and said that I had a filthy mind and they just wanted some ‘alone time’ without me ‘hovering around and annoying us’.

As if I would. I’d rather not be anywhere near them. Anyway, whatever they were up to, I can’t see why they didn’t just go up to her room rather than forcing me out into the back garden like some sort of dog. The only good thing was that for once I had some credit on my phone so I could ring Alice. As ever, Alice was the voice of reason and pointed out that it was a lovely day and actually it was nicer out in the garden. She is very soothing sometimes. Though she did go too far when she said she’s always wished she had a sister and that I should count my blessings. Alice has always been into counting
blessings
, though I don’t think Rachel is one. A blessing, I mean. She is more like a curse. I said this to Alice, and she reminded me that, actually, Rachel has been okay to me a few times over the last year.

‘She gave you pretty good advice about Paperboy and John, didn’t she?’ she said. ‘And she was great about helping you
defeat your fringe. And she even did your make-up for the Battle of the Bands.’

This is all true. I suppose she isn’t a curse all the time. I’m not sure I’d go so far as to call her a blessing, though. Anyway, maybe I will get her a present after all. Not that I have much money to splash out on lavish gifts. Maybe I will write Rachel a song instead? I know I won’t have the band to play the music, but I can just sing it to her. And surely a personalised song is a gift more precious than anything you could buy in a shop. It is also much cheaper.

It is surprisingly difficult to write a song for Rachel. I mean, I’m pretty sure nothing rhymes with Rachel – there are no actual names in my dictionary, so I can’t even look it up. Not that many useful words rhyme with ‘sister’, either. Can I compare her to a fillister? Apparently, that is a word for an ‘adjustable plane’, whatever that is. Or a lister, which is a sort of plough? Probably not. Anyway, this is what I have so far:

I’m not sure it’s one of my best. It doesn’t actually have a chorus. And it sort of makes it look like the only good things about Rachel are her ability to give boy advice and the fact that she has nice clothes which I can steal. Which
makes her look a bit shallow and me a bit selfish. But
seriously
, it just took me ages to write, and I don’t think I can manage any more. Anyway, it’s the thought that counts. And surely just having a song written just for you is a lovely present?

Rachel went out to her friend Jenny’s house so I thought I’d sing my song to Mum. She looked very thoughtful as I was singing, and when I was finished she cleared her throat and said, ‘That’s really good, love. And it’s a really good present. But if you want to get her anything else, I’ll give you some money. Not too much money,’ she added, in case I thought she was going to hand over a hundred-euro note. Which I didn’t. Anyway, I thought that was very nice of her, and it shows she appreciates my musical talents.

So it turns out Cass isn’t the only gay person at the summer
camp. I mean, obviously she isn’t − there are over a hundred people there so it stands to reason a few of them would be gay. But she says it is strangely comforting to know for sure that they are there. Or at least that one of them is. After lunch today, Ellie took Cass to look at some of the props in the art room (Cass is still yearning for the world of set design), and when Alice, Jane and I were on our way back from the canteen, we bumped into Jamie from the drama course. Even though he is two years older than us, unlike SOME people (Rachel) he has manners and is able to talk politely to people younger than him. We were just chatting about our various courses, and Alice said something about being glad Richard was doing the course too.

‘It’s not like we’re joined at the hip or anything,’ she said. ‘But it’s fun that we’re all involved in the same big thing.’

‘Yeah, I wish my boyfriend was here too,’ said Jamie. ‘But he’s doing a computer-programming thing in Trinity for secondary-school students. Which is cool, obviously, but it would be handy if it was here too.’

‘I didn’t know you had a boyfriend!’ said Jane.

Jamie grinned. ‘Yeah, I do,’ he said. ‘You’re not shocked, are you?’

‘Hardly,’ said Jane, looking offended at the very thought.

‘Well, you’d be surprised,’ said Jamie. ‘Or, actually, you probably wouldn’t.’ He looked at me and Alice. ‘You’re doing the rock camp thing, right? A few of your fellow band people had some charming words for me the other day.’

‘Ugh, I bet I know who that was,’ I said. ‘Was it a really cocky boy with sort of light brown hair with too much gel?’

‘It was,’ said Jamie. Charlie. Of course. ‘I don’t think he even knows I’m gay. He and his red-haired friend were calling my friend Cillian gay too, and he’s got a girlfriend.’

He certainly does. That’s the boy Ellie fancies. But it seems that Charlie (and his bandmate Robbie − I presume that’s who the red-haired pal was) just uses ‘gay’ as a general sort of insult to any boy who isn’t exactly like him, ie a boring toad. Anyway, when we found Cass again, we told her about Jamie. I didn’t want it to look like we thought she would
automatically
bond with him just because they’re both gay, but I did think she’d be interested, and she was. He is the first teenager she has encountered besides Liz who is actually out.

Speaking of Liz, she is home today, and Cass was going into town after the camp to meet her. Apparently, her mum wanted her to invite Liz over to their house so she could meet
her properly (they met at our musical, but of course Liz wasn’t Cass’s girlfriend then), but Cass refused because she knows her mum would just be fussing over them the whole time and saying how cool it is to have a lesbian daughter. I don’t blame her (Cass, not her mum). It was bad enough when John met my parents for the first time, and I didn’t have to worry about them going on about how open-minded they were for five hours.

Anyway, Cass could hardly concentrate today because she is so excited at the thought of their big reunion. I really am happy for her, though I couldn’t help wishing I’d ever got to have a big reunion with Paperboy. Sometimes I used to
imagine
that he had come home without telling me and I’d just open the door and find him there. And just imagining that moment would make me feel really happy, just for a second. I suppose he will come back to Dublin at some stage, at least for a visit – I mean, all his grandparents and aunts and uncles and stuff are still here, and he’s not going to stay in Canada for the rest of his life. But it wouldn’t be the same now.

Anyway, I really am happy for Cass. Honestly. And she managed to calm down for our great workshop this
afternoon
, which was just us and Kitty. We did some recording in
the campus studio, which was more complicated than you’d think but still good fun. We recorded some of the
instruments
separately, which was quite weird, and then we each sang our vocals. And now we have a rough version of ‘The Real Me!’ It’s mad hearing a recorded version. It actually makes us sound more professional than I thought it would. Imagine, in a few years, when we are famous rock stars (and possibly famous TV chefs too if the whole sweet-making thing works out), maybe this recording will be worth a fortune! I said this to Alice, and she said that it mightn’t be worth a fortune, exactly, but our fans would treasure it. Which is good enough.

I got my exam results! And after all my panicking, I did quite well: two As, mostly Bs, and a C in maths. The others did well too – in fact, Cass did better in maths than I did. She was in a very good mood today, not only because she won’t have to go to extra maths classes but also because she has had her joyous reunion with Liz. She was practically skipping along
the corridors. I was worried she wouldn’t be able to give any attention to the band, but I have to say that she was very
hard-working
once we were in the practice space this morning. She even came up with a great bassline for a new song, which led Alice to work out a gorgeous catchy melody. It’s really good. I’m going to write some lyrics for it so we can perfect it in time for our show next week.

Actually, I have a new source of inspiration for my lyric-
writing
, because we had another excellent songwriting workshop with Ian Cliff today. He seems nice, but he is rather
intimidating
. (I think that is because he is so tall. Oh God, maybe Cass and Alice are right and I really do have a thing about tall people? Surely not. I mean, anyone would be intimidated by Ian Cliff, he’s practically a giant.) He played a few different songs, and we had to analyse them to see how they worked. It was very interesting. There is a thing in songs called a middle eight which is a bit that doesn’t have exactly the same tune or chords as the chorus or the verse. We realised that none of our songs have a middle eight, so after the workshop we went back to our practice room and basically added one to the song we’ve been working on − we took a verse from another song we’d started recently that went quite well with the chords. Our
songwriting skills really are developing.

The only thing that spoiled the day was, unsurprisingly, Charlie and his disgusting Crack Parrots. They were talking about Jamie. They have discovered that he actually is gay − probably by eavesdropping on other people’s conversations, it’s not like they talk much to anyone else on the course apart from when they’re bragging about how great they are. Anyway, I was sitting in front of them at the workshop, and at one stage, when Ian was talking to Small Paula about something (they both looked very intense and mysterious – they have quite a lot in common even though they are such different heights), I couldn’t help eavesdropping myself because they were laughing about Jamie at top volume.

‘He actually has a boyfriend,’ said Charlie, putting on a stupid high-pitched voice as he said the last word. And they all laughed like this was in some way funny.

‘I bet you it’s that Cillian,’ said Robbie. ‘I saw him carrying around some paintbrushes yesterday. He’s so gay.’

That is not only obnoxious and hateful, it makes no sense at all. Why would carrying around paintbrushes be gay? Does that mean all artists and decorators are gay? It’s ridiculous. I was going to turn around and say something to them but
then Ian Cliff left Small Paula and started talking to the entire workshop so I couldn’t. He started talking about the power of political songwriting, which made me realise that this is something Hey Dollface could look into. So far all our songs have been about personal woes. But maybe we should turn our attention to the wider world. I mean, thanks to Miss Kelly we definitely know a lot about climate change. I will think more about this.

So … I think I might have been wrong about Lucy. In fact, I know I was. I feel a bit stupid. Especially for wondering if she was jealous because she thought I was after Sam. But really, she was a bit silly too.

Here’s what happened. The camp was great today. We had a really good workshop with Eli Gavroche about mixing up
musical
genres. And Niall from Puce was trying out another new look. He was wearing a sort of headband, and I think he almost pulled it off. Of course, I heard Charlie and Co dropping stupid comments, but Niall didn’t seem to care, which is cool.

Anyway, afterwards I set off into town to get a present for Rachel like the good sister I am. So, after bidding
farewell
to my pals, I headed over to the bus stop. When I saw Lucy waiting there, my stomach dropped. It’s not like I didn’t like her, as I said. It’s just I always feel – or at least, I felt – awkward around her, because I think – or thought – she didn’t like me. And I knew I couldn’t avoid talking to her at the bus stop because we do know each other now, even though we’ve never actually talked on our own before. Also, she was the only person at the bus stop. Anyway, as I approached the stop, I raised my hand in greeting but she looked straight past me, as usual. And just as I was starting to feel annoyed and insulted, she rummaged around in her bag, took out a pair of rather nice glasses and put them on. Then she looked straight at me in a surprised way and said, ‘Oh, hi!’

‘Hey,’ I said. And then, because I couldn’t think of anything else to say, I said, ‘I didn’t know you wore glasses.’

Lucy looked embarrassed.

‘Oh, yeah,’ she said. ‘I do.’

‘Do you just need them for reading or something?’ I said.

Lucy looked a bit pink.

‘Um, not exactly,’ she said. ‘I … I’m actually pretty
short-sighted
.’

‘Oh,’ I said, confused. ‘So why don’t you wear your specs? At the camp, I mean.’

‘Ah,’ said Lucy. ‘I’ve sort of stopped wearing them. I mean, I decided I wasn’t going to wear them at the summer camp.’

‘Really?’ I said. ‘Um, but why?’

Lucy looked even more embarrassed. ‘I just … I dunno.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I knew I was going to be meeting loads of new people, and I didn’t want to be thought of as “someone who wears glasses”. I wanted to start afresh.’

I can understand wanting to start afresh. After all, I did get that fringe. But this seemed like a rather drastic way of doing it. My fringe might look ridiculous (though I really think it might actually be getting longer at last), but at least I can still, you know, see.

‘But no one thinks like that!’ I said. ‘Just look at Cass. She has glasses, and she looks cool. Doesn’t she?’

‘Yeah, she does,’ said Lucy. ‘And I know it’s stupid. I just thought I’d look better without them. Although I can’t really tell, because I can’t see myself in the mirror unless I’m right next to it.’

‘Well, you do look good without them,’ I said. ‘But you look just as good with them! They’re really nice glasses.’

‘Thanks,’ said Lucy. ‘Oh, I dunno. I just feel people see me as, you know, a specky person. And I wanted to see what it’d be like if they didn’t.’

‘Is there a big difference?’ I said.

‘Not really,’ she said. ‘Apart from not being able to see things if they’re, like, a metre away from me. I’m starting to think it was a pretty stupid idea.’