Rebecca's Rules (14 page)

I told him that my mum writes novels (I didn’t mention Ruthie O’Reilly, of course), but when I said she was Rosie Carberry he said that he didn’t read ‘crude mainstream bestsellers’. I was about to defend Mum’s books (God knows why, 
I think they’re pretty awful), but then he asked if I wrote anything. And even though I’ve only ever talked about this with Alice, I found myself telling him that I did write stories when I was younger, but I’ve got out of the habit of it now.

‘But if it’s in your blood,’ said John very intensely. He says a lot of things very intensely. ‘You owe it to yourself to write again. Maybe you even owe it to the world!’

Maybe he’s right. Maybe I am really destined to be a great writer. If I’m being honest with myself, I have to admit that this is quite unlikely, but when he was talking I wanted it to be true. I was going to tell him that I do write a diary and I might even have told him about the poems but before I could say anything my phone rang. And I had to answer it because it was Mum, who was ranting on about how late I was and how she was worried sick and how I had to come home this instant. So when I hung up I turned to John Kowalski and said, ‘That was my mother. She’s not writing at the moment. She’s yelling at me to come home.’

‘Ah,’ said John Kowalski. ‘I should probably be at home now too. I’ll see you at rehearsal.’

And no sooner had I said goodbye than he stamped out his cigarette and off he went down Gracepark Road into
the murky evening, his scarf flowing out behind him like a banner. He was wearing his cool woollen khaki coat that sort of swept about. There’s something very dramatic about John Kowalski himself. It’s not surprising he writes about wars and bullfighters and stuff.

So I walked up in the other direction, feeling a bit funny. I rang Alice later to tell her what happened. She was very cheerful after her conversation with Bike Boy.

‘He’s so nice!’ she burbled. ‘He was saying what a shame it was that Hey Dollface were on hiatus because he thought I was a really good guitarist.’

‘Wow,’ I said. ‘Well, he’s right.’

‘But I couldn’t stay talking to him for too long because of my lift. Thanks for, you know, leaving me to it.’

‘Well, we didn’t want to disturb you,’ I said. ‘I do care about your feelings, Alice.’ I paused. ‘Um, I got talking to someone too.’

‘What?’ said Alice. ‘Who?’

‘You know John Kowalski who’s playing Mr Banks?’

‘Of course,’ said Alice.

‘Well, I got talking to him at the gates and walked down to Gracepark Road with him,’ I said. ‘And we were talking for a good bit.’

‘Oh, right,’ said Alice. ‘Is he nice?’

Is he nice? I’m not actually sure. I mean, he’s not NOT nice. But he’s not all cheerful and friendly like, well, like Paperboy.

‘He’s very interesting,’ I said. ‘But … I feel a bit guilty. About Paperboy.’

There was silence on the other end of the line. Then Alice said, ‘Well, you know, Bex, you’ve got nothing to feel guilty about.’

‘I know,’ I said. ‘But …’

‘You just talked to another boy for a few minutes! Even if Paperboy was actually in Dublin, you shouldn’t have to feel guilty about that!’

‘True,’ I said. ‘But …’

‘And besides,’ said Alice, who was getting quite worked up (obviously talking to Bike Boy had over-stimulated her), ‘you have to embrace life, Bex! You can’t put everything on hold just because Paperboy went to Canada!’ She sounded a bit like John Kowalski. Everyone seems to be into embracing life this weekend.

I know she is right and I told her so and she said, ‘So you don’t feel guilty?’ And I said I didn’t, even though I do a bit. And she said, ‘I just don’t want you to, I dunno, spend all your
time thinking about Paperboy and not actually, like, noticing what’s happening around you.’

Which is, I think, though I didn’t say it, an Alice-ish way of saying she doesn’t think me and Paperboy are going out anymore.

Everyone wants to convince me that me and Paperboy have split up. And I have to admit that I understand why. But still. I don’t like it. If it was official we weren’t really going out anymore, it would make me too sad. And it would also make me hate Paperboy as it would mean that he had dumped me without even bothering to tell me, which is a terrible thing to do. And I can’t believe he’s that bad.

Is he?

SUNDAY

Oh my God! I got a mail from Paperboy at last! And it looks like he hasn’t dumped me without telling me. I hope. I mean, he didn’t say, ‘Oh, Rebecca, I will love you forever.’ But then he didn’t say he didn’t. It was actually a very normal mail. He apologised for not mailing me sooner and said that everything had been mad at his new school with the trip away and
everything and he’d actually forgotten it was his turn to mail me. He thought I was going to mail him and then he eventually checked and realised it was his turn. And then he told me about his school trip and how he’d got really into snowboarding. That was about it, really.

When I read it I felt very relieved that he still signed his mail with some Xs. And I feel bad about thinking he would dump me without telling me. But I can’t help thinking he shouldn’t have forgotten it was his turn to mail me. And it took him weeks to even check! To be honest, I feel kind of annoyed with him now. I’m certainly not going to mail him back straight away. I’ll make him wait and see how he likes that.

Of course, I had to read his mail really quickly. My mother hovered over me practically the whole time, as she always does. She and Dad have a computer each, but she refuses to get me and Rebecca a computer even to share. She says it’s ‘a ridiculous extravagance’, and she doesn’t approve of teenagers having constant access to the internet. So, instead, I’m only allowed go online on her or Dad’s computer for about two seconds at a time. It’s like the middle ages around here.

Anyway, after I got the mail, I rang Alice. I didn’t actually say, ‘Look, I told you we hadn’t broken up!’ but I almost did.
I thought Alice would be pleased for me, and she sort of was, but then she said, ‘Hang on, do you mean you haven’t had a mail from him at all since that one where he said he was going on the school trip? That was weeks ago!’

‘I know,’ I said.

‘Oh,’ said Alice.

‘And I didn’t tell you because I was trying to stick to my rule and not bother you with my troubles,’ I said, nobly.

‘Oh Bex,’ said Alice. ‘I don’t want you to think you can’t, like, tell me stuff.’

Well, really. This was very nice of her and everything, but one minute I’m too selfish and just thinking of my own problems, and the next I’m bottling everything up! I really can’t win. I just had a bash on the sofa with my drum sticks to release my frustrations, but the sofa is just not the same as my drums.

MONDAY

Felt a bit odd seeing John Kowalski after our big talk on Friday. I mean, are we friends now? I have to admit I was a bit worried he’d act like nothing had happened, but he didn’t. He and
Bike Boy arrived at the rehearsal at the last minute and then he was off practising with the leads so I didn’t really come into contact with him until we were all going home. He was on his way out of the hall, wearing that weird yet strangely cool old coat, but when he saw me he paused.

‘Hello, Miss Rafferty,’ he said. ‘Did you write anything over the weekend, then?’

The only thing I’d written over the weekend were big diary entries, partly about him, so I said, ‘Well, no, not really.’

‘Ah well,’ he said airily. ‘It’s only a matter of time. Go and write something brilliant. See you.’

And off he went.

I really do not know what I think of him at all.

Cass, of course, is sure she knows what I think of him. She was watching us from her prop den on the stage, and when he walked off she jumped off the stage and ran over to me.

‘Oh my God,’ she said. ‘He fancies you. And I think you fancy him back.’

‘I do not!’ I said. I have a horrible feeling I went bright red. ‘He smokes!’

‘Hmmm,’ said Cass. ‘I think you do. I don’t think you care about his smoking.’

‘Oh, shut up, Cass,’ I said, but not in a mean way. I hope. Cass didn’t seem to take offence anyway because she laughed and said, ‘Well, I don’t blame you if you do. He’s not bad-looking really.  Though he’s not my type.’

‘I don’t fancy anyone,’ I said. ‘Apart from Paperboy.’

But if I’m being very honest, I am not entirely sure if this is true.

TUESDAY

I keep thinking about John Kowalski. There was something about the way he called me ‘Miss Rafferty’ that made me feel a bit funny. But how can I feel anything at all about him when Paperboy is my true love? Also, he is not as good-looking as Paperboy (even when he smiles, although I have to admit that he looks pretty good when he does that). He is also much more intense and serious than Paperboy. Whenever we talked about what we wanted to do when we grew up Paperboy was always a bit vague and said he’d thought about being either a designer or a doctor but he wasn’t quite sure. But John Kowalski seems totally sure about his future as some sort of writing/acting genius. It is a bit intimidating, really.

But also quite interesting.

WEDNESDAY

Got into trouble at rehearsal today and it was all Cass’s fault. The chorus were practising in the main part of the hall, and Alice and I were at the edge of the group. Which meant we could see the side of the stage where Cass was doing mysterious set stuff, but Ms Byrne, whose back was to the stage, couldn’t.

Anyway, we were singing away (‘Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious’, as it happens) and then I noticed Cass’s head rising slowly from behind a wooden car left over from last year’s production of
Grease
. She made a hideous face at us and sank back down again. Alice and I both started laughing, but when Ms Byrne glanced over at us we cunningly disguised our sniggers by pretending to cough (I am very good at covering up laughter by coughing, sneezing and, in one instance, crying. You’d have to be if you sat next to Cass on a regular basis. Sometimes she lives to torment me, if by tormenting you mean ‘make me laugh in class and get into trouble’.).

That was bad enough, but a few minutes later Cass did it
again, only this time she had a pair of giant sunglasses (probably left over from
Grease
) pushed up on her head. She looked upwards as if she didn’t know how they had got there, and sank back down again. And a few minutes later she appeared slowly from behind an amplifier wearing a paper crown and a very serious expression before sinking behind it again.