Signs of Love - Love Match (12 page)

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I scowl at Josh as he drapes himself round Savannah. He’s got one eye on Chelsea, who’s chewing gum on the other side of the classroom.

‘I’m going to tell Savannah at break-time,’ I whisper to Treacle as the bell goes for the first lesson.

‘We’ll do it together,’ Treacle hisses back.

Mr Harris catches my eye as I walk into English. ‘Good first effort,’ he smiles.

‘Sorry?’

‘The webzine,’ he explains. ‘I enjoyed reading it.’

I’ve been so wrapped up in Savannah’s heartbreak that I’ve totally forgotten that the webzine goes public today. It’ll be in everyone’s Inbox by now.

Treacle grabs my arm as we take our seats. ‘The webzine! I forgot!’

‘Me too!’ I wish I had a smartphone so I could check my email.

Behind me, Savannah leans over her desk. ‘I’m going to check it out at break,’ she whispers. ‘We can go to the IT suite. I must see Cindy’s beauty tips.’ She giggles. ‘I want to find out what she uses to freeze her smile.’

I try and focus on Mr Harris. He’s snapped open a copy of
To Kill a Mockingbird
and started droning.

As soon as the bell goes for break, I drag Treacle to the IT suite. Savannah and Sally Moore have got there before us and are already at two of the computers.

I’m bouncing with excitement as I type in my password. I’m about to finally see my words in print!

Suddenly Savannah explodes into laughter.

Treacle looks at her. ‘What?’

Savannah’s creased up, pointing at the screen. ‘Who is Jessica Jupiter?’

Sally’s giggling beside her. ‘She’s crazy!’

Savannah starts reading out my horoscopes. Her voice chokes with laughter. ‘An unexpected visit from a relative from overseas will bring
cheese
!’ She collapses, hooting, against Sally.

I feel sick. My cheeks are on fire, my stomach as hollow as an empty locker.

What a great start to my career.

I grab my bag and head for the door. ‘I’ve got to go, I’m feeling sick,’ I somehow manage to blurt out on the way.

‘Wait!’ Treacle’s hot on my heels.

I race from the IT suite. ‘I’m so embarrassed!’ I clutch Treacle’s arm. ‘You must promise
never
to tell anyone that it’s me!’

‘I know.’ Treacle’s nodding. ‘I swear on my mother’s chimichangas.’ Her eyes search mine hopefully. She’s trying to make me laugh.

I droop. I don’t feel like laughing. ‘The whole school will be making fun of me by the end of the day.’

‘They don’t know it’s
you
who wrote it.’ Treacle puts her arm through mine and leads me down the corridor. ‘You did the best you could but it was never meant to be serious, was it?’

‘I guess not,’ I conceded. But it would have been nice if Savannah had just smiled instead of falling off her chair in hysterics.

‘I’m resigning,’ I tell Treacle as we cross the playground the next morning. A cold February mist has swallowed the school roof.

‘Resigning?’ Treacle’s shoes clip-clop on the front steps. ‘From what?
School?
’ She sounds hopeful. ‘I didn’t know you could resign from school.’

A reluctant smile twitches my lips. ‘Not school. The webzine.’ I spent yesterday evening working myself into a full-blown huff. ‘If Cindy won’t take me seriously then there’s no point,’ I sniff. ‘Writing horoscopes is humiliating. It’s a sell-out. I should be writing serious pieces about serious things.’

Treacle’s frowning. ‘But you were really looking forward to working on the webzine,’ she reminds me. ‘Shouldn’t you give it a bit longer?’

I barge through the school doors and plunge into the crowd of students. ‘I’m not being the school laughing stock,’ I call over my shoulder as Treacle squeezes after me.

She stops arguing as we focus on making it to the classroom without getting trampled. Savannah’s already there, perched on a desk. Sal, Anila and Susan Noakes are clustered round her. Even Chelsea’s crowding to hear.

‘I couldn’t believe it!’ Savannah exclaims. ‘I got home from school last night and my Uncle Pierre was sat at the kitchen table. He’d come on a surprise visit from France. Even Mum didn’t know he was coming. And guess what he brought as a gift?’

Anila’s leaning forward. ‘What?’

‘
Cheese!
’

Sal’s the first to burst into laughter. ‘So Jessica Jupiter was right!’

‘A hundred and ten per cent!’ Savannah exclaims. ‘She really is psychic!’

I’m standing in the doorway, eyes wide.

Treacle squeezes my arm. ‘How did you know he was coming?’

‘I didn’t!’ I hush her before she gives anything away.

Jessica’s prediction actually came true! I couldn’t be more amazed if Miss Davis climbed on her desk and started tap-dancing.

Savannah and the others are speed-talking about Jessica Jupiter and her horoscopes. They sound as excited as nerds in an Apple store. Do they actually believe Jessica’s predictions are real?

An idea lights up my head.

‘Treacle!’ I drag her to our usual spot beside the radiator.

‘What?’ Her gaze is darting between me and Savannah.

‘I’ve just worked out how we can warn Savannah about Josh!’

I don’t resign. In fact, at lunchtime I can’t wait to get to webzine HQ and start work on next week’s horoscopes.

If Savannah believes in Jessica Jupiter, I can let Jessica break the bad news about Josh. Jessica’s way tougher than me. She’ll find a way to get her message across.

I hurry past the staffroom, heading for the stairs. Mr Chapman’s outside talking to Miss Bayliss, our PE teacher.

‘Well Jeff Simpson seemed very keen when he watched the girls’ Cup match,’ Mr Chapman’s saying. ‘Maybe you should ask him.’

I slow down, ears pricking like a cat’s. Ask him what?

Miss Bayliss starts to smile. ‘Oh, yes, he’d make a perfect coach for the Year Nine girls’ team. He’s such a great player, they’d really look up to him.’

I know one of them would
. Even as I’m thinking it, another thought’s running in my head:
this is GREAT info
. My mind starts whirring; if I can get Jeff to believe in his horoscope then, with a couple of flicks of Jessica Jupiter’s pen, I can steer him towards Treacle, in the same way that I can warn Savannah not to trust Josh. I just need to word the horoscopes carefully. I’m such an Evil Genius, I should have my own comic book.

Miss Bayliss glances at her watch. ‘When I get a spare moment, I’ll ask him if he’ll do it.’

I sidle past, eyes fixed on the floor, already typing Jeff’s horoscope in my head.
Expect an unexpected offer
. . .

Sam, Cindy and Will are already in the storeroom. Sam’s lost in music, eyes closed, biting his lip as he nods along to the MP3 player wired into his ears. Cindy’s typing. She doesn’t even look up as I enter. Will’s copying something from his screen on to a notepad beside his keyboard. I sit down and start up a PC.

‘Gemma?’

I look up and jerk back in surprise as I see Cindy leaning over my desk.

This girl moves like a ninja.

‘Y-yes?’

A horrible mish-mash of fumes washes over me. Mouthwash, face powder, hairspray and perfume battle for supremacy in my nose. I fight back a sneeze, eyes smarting.

‘How did you get on with those samples I gave you?’ she asks, loud enough to rattle the windows.

I guess she’s still pushing the idea that I’m helping her with her beauty column. ‘Fine,’ I tell her unenthusiastically.

‘Well?’ Her gaze is flitting over my desk. ‘Where are they? I’m not just giving you free stuff, you know.’

Beside me, Will shifts in his seat. ‘I can’t imagine you giving anything away for free, Cinders.’

She lasers him with a look. ‘
Don’t
call me Cinders.’

His lips twitch and I know at once she’s been christened Cinders for life.

I open my desk drawer, where I swept them last week, and dump the samples out on to my desk.

‘Good.’ Satisfied, Cindy heads back to her PC.

Ignoring the sample pots, I open a browser window and start searching Facebook. Jeff’s profile is easy to find. I check his birthdate. He’s Capricorn.

As I crack open a fresh Word doc, Will’s voice makes me jump.

‘Hi, my name’s Will Bold.’

I glance sideways and see him talking on his mobile.

‘I’m writing a piece on knife crime for my school webzine.’ He leans back in his chair and hooks a leg over the corner of his desk. He sounds so confident and experienced, but then he has won an award for his writing. I sigh and pull my monitor closer, risking eye-burn to stop him seeing what I’m doing.

Will’s phone voice is high volume. giving you free stuff, you know.’‘I was wondering if you’d be willing to answer some questions about knife crime in this area.’ He scribbles on a notepad and underlines ferociously. I ignore him and start typing.

Capricorn, Star-ling! Sign of the goat? Never! You don’t belong on the farm.

I grit my teeth as Will bellows into his phone. ‘So this year’s figures are up on last year?’

This week, a familiar face will offer you the chance to work with a very unfamiliar flock.

‘And what’s the average age of knife-crime victims?’ Will’s taking notes again.

Leave your shyness in the barn and polish your horns.

Will runs his fingers through his hair, frowning. ‘So female victims are on the increase? And female offenders? That’s interesting.’

I focus on my screen.
Seize this opportunity with both hooves, you lucky goat; it will bring you closer to the opposite sex, and Jessica’s not talking about knitting with your nanny
.

I tackle Savannah’s horoscope next. It’s half-written in my head.

Pisces

Hey, fish-face!

OK, so I’m still a little stung from her laughing at my first published article.

You’ve been swimming along happily for a while, but watch out. Those goldfish you’ve been hanging out with may turn out to be sharks. And if there’s a curly-haired merman in your life, beware. He may not be flapping his tail just for you.

Will’s phone interview cuts into my train of thought again. ‘Do you have his number?’ He makes another note. ‘Thanks. You’ve been a great help.’ He ends the call and picks up his notepad. Tapping it with a pen, he frowns.

‘Do you need any help?’ I switch windows, from my horoscopes back to Facebook, hiding my work.

He narrows his eyes. ‘Do you know anything about knife crime?’

‘I could do some research for you.’ I’m supposed to be editorial assistant for the whole webzine after all, not just product tester for Cindy.

He leans back to get a look at my screen. ‘Does Facebook have a page on knife crime then?’ he sniffs. ‘Perhaps you could become a fan.’