Signs of Love - Love Match (20 page)

Her teammates swarm round her, hauling her away towards the changing room.

‘I’ll wait for you!’ I call over their heads.

Then I stop. I’ve forgotten about Ben. I was so caught up in winning, I forgot. Guilt rushes at me. I shouldn’t have let him slip away like that. Panicking, I check my phone.

No message. Why did I stop thinking about him?

‘Are you OK?’ Savannah asks. I can see Jason hovering behind her, talking to Jeff.

‘I’m fine. It’s Ben.’

Savannah instantly looks panicked. ‘Have you heard from the hospital?’

I shake my head. ‘Mum said she’d let me know if his temperature went down, but I still haven’t heard anything.’

Savannah grips hold of my hand.

‘Savannah, are you coming?’ Jason calls.

She looks at me. ‘Do you want me to stay with you?’

‘No, it’s fine. You go with Jason.’

‘Seriously, if you want me to stay, just say.’

‘But what about Jason?’

‘He’s just a boy.’

That’s why I love Savannah. She might be too cool for school, but she’s never too cool for her friends.

I give her a weak smile. ‘Honestly, I’ll be fine. No news is good news, right?’

She smiles back at me. ‘Right. Well, if you’re sure?’

‘I’m sure.’

‘Promise you’ll call me if you do hear anything?’

‘Promise.’

Savannah heads off with Jason and as the crowds thin, I pace the sideline.

Jeff’s hanging around too. He’s holding his notebook. ‘I want to get some quotes from the players for the article,’ he tells me.

Before I can answer, my phone beeps. My chest cracks with fear. I pull my phone out, only half wanting to read the text.

Please don’t let him be worse.

‘Are you OK?’ Jeff’s staring at me.

I read the text.

Fever gone. Ben sitting up, eating.

‘Yes!’ I throw my arms into the air as if we’ve won another Cup.

‘What?’ Jeff’s staring at me like I
am
a deranged chimp.

‘Ben’s better!’ I’m actually jumping for joy. I
have
to jump or I’ll explode with happiness.

Jeff waits for me to calm down. ‘Who’s Ben?’

‘My brother,’ I blurt. ‘He’s got cystic fibrosis. He’s been in hospital with an infection since last week. But he’s started getting better.’ I feel like crying as relief swamps me.

Jeff blinks, his blue eyes suddenly bright. ‘
You
wrote that article!’

I nod. Tears are pressing harder behind my eyes.
Ben’s going to be OK.

Jeff cocks his head. ‘Are you all right?’ The kindness in his voice tips me over the edge. Overwhelmed, I start to cry. I feel Jeff’s arms go round me and like a caring big brother, he gives me a hug.

Ben’s going to be OK!

‘What is going on?’ Treacle’s voice makes me freeze.

I back away from Jeff. ‘N-nothing,’ I stammer.

Treacle’s face is set like stone, her eyes flinty hard. She drops her overflowing kitbag and spikes me with a stare. ‘
Oh, really
?’

I need a plan!

Treacle’s on the verge of a major eruption and Jeff is about to make the toe-curling discovery he’s been named her Man of the Century.

OK, here’s what I have to do:

First: Shut Treacle up.

Second: Calm Treacle down.

I take a deep breath and say the magic words. ‘Ben’s better.’ This stops Treacle in her tracks.

‘Better?’ Her eyes immediately light up and she hugs me hard. ‘Gem, that’s great.’

‘I was just telling Jeff about him,’ I explain.

Treacle grins as she realises why Jeff was hugging me. Then her smile freezes. I can read her expression like it’s flashing headlines. She’s realising that she’s just thrown a jealous hissy fit in front of Jeff. Her gaze creeps nervously towards him.

Has he noticed?

I remember my research: this boy does not read between the lines too well. It was pretty amazing he worked out it was my article, but surely he won’t guess that Treacle’s head over heels for him just because she asked me what was going on?

Will he?

Jeff’s rubbing his nose thoughtfully.

‘You dropped your bag.’ He reaches for Treacle’s kit bag. As he grabs the handles, the football shirt spilling out of the top slithers on to the grass. ‘Here.’ He scoops it up.

Treacle reaches to grab it, but Jeff’s staring at the number ten on the back.

‘Wait . . . you’re number ten!’ he says slowly, like he’s finally understood calculus.

I stop breathing. Is he thinking of his horoscope?
The number ten holds the key to your happiness
.

‘Yeah.’ Treacle hesitates. ‘I’m always number ten. It’s my lucky number.’ She looks freshly scrubbed from the shower, her newly washed hair gleaming in the sun. She’s not wearing any of the ‘girly’ clothes or make-up that she’s been trying out, but that obviously doesn’t matter to Jeff.

I see a blush spreading from the back of his neck, up into his cheeks. Slowly, he lifts his long, pale lashes and looks at Treacle. Then he smiles. ‘You must be hungry.’

Treacle raises her eyebrows.

‘Do you want to go into town and grab some pizza and celebrate your win?’ Jeff asks her.

She looks at him like he’s holding out a present, but she’s not sure if it’s for her. She turns to me. ‘Do you fancy it, Gem?’ She doesn’t see Jeff’s face fall.

But I do. ‘No thanks,’ I tell her. ‘I need to go and see Ben.’

‘Oh.’ Her brow furrows. ‘Do you want me to come with you?’

I shake my head. ‘No, you go and celebrate.’

Treacle shrugs apologetically at Jeff. ‘Is it OK if it’s just you and me?’

He pushes his hair from his eyes and looks straight at her. ‘That would be great.’

And finally, Treacle gets it. This gift’s definitely got her name on it, and hers alone. I want to hug her but I shove my hands in my pockets, not wanting to give the whole game away to Jeff.

Treacle glances shyly at her feet. ‘OK.’

Jeff shoves her number ten shirt into her kitbag and swings it over his shoulder. Then he stands to one side to let Treacle pass.

She hesitates. ‘Will you be OK, Gem?’

‘Yes,’ I say with a smile. How could I not be OK? Ben’s better. Treacle’s happy. ‘I’ll be fine.’

I watch her and Jeff trekking towards the gate. They’re deep into match analysis by the time they disappear from my hearing.

Jeff and Treacle are going on a date. And my horoscopes helped make it happen!

I look at my watch. There’s half an hour before the next bus to the hospital. Plenty of time to answer the rest of Jessica Jupiter’s fan mail. Then I can spend all evening with Ben and Mum and Dad. I glance hopefully at the school building, wondering if the webzine HQ will still be open. It’s late. It may be locked.

I see the caretaker over by the bike shed. He’s holding a pot of paint and a brush. I cross the playground and stop beside him.

‘What are you doing?’ I ask, nodding at the paint pot.

‘Just giving the old place a bit of a makeover,’ he replies.

‘But why, if it’s going to be knocked down?’

He dips his brush into the pot and stirs it around. ‘Haven’t you heard? The powers that be have decided to keep the old place after all.’

‘What?’

‘Yep. Apparently, some article by one of you lot made them change their mind.’

My head starts to spin as it tries to digest this latest piece of information. ‘An article?’

‘Yep. In that new worldwide internet magazine thingy.’

‘The webzine?’

‘That’s the one.’ He lifts his brush from the pot and paints a gleaming streak of black across one of the railings.

‘But I – that article was my idea.’ I am smiling so hard now my jaw has actually started to ache.

The caretaker stops painting and his wrinkly face breaks into a grin. ‘Well, good for you,’ he says. ‘Good for you. This shed’s been here since I was a boy. Place wouldn’t be the same without it.’

‘Wow,’ is all I can say. Today is starting to feel like my birthday, Christmas and Easter all rolled into one.

I glance towards the school. The windows are glittering in the sinking sunshine. ‘Would it be OK for me to go back inside – to the webzine HQ? I wanted to finish off some work. Is the storeroom still open?’

He nods. ‘I haven’t locked it yet. There’s another kid in there.’ He looks at his watch. ‘Gotta lock up in twenty minutes though.’

‘I’ll be done before then,’ I promise.

Inside the school the corridors seem weirdly empty and bright. I take the stairs up to the webzine HQ two at a time and reach the door wondering who the other ‘kid’ is. It’s probably Cindy stealing ideas from the bin, or Will following up leads.

I’m surprised when I hear music. I poke my head round the door and find Sam, leaning back in his chair, strumming a guitar.

‘What do you think?’ he asks as I walk in.

‘About what?’

‘My new song.’ He strums another riff.

I smile. ‘It’s pretty.’

He grins and starts playing again. ‘Thanks. I’m not sure I was aiming for “pretty” though.’

When Will says stuff like that, it’s edged with razor blades, but there’s no sharpness in Sam. I switch on my PC. ‘Sorry.’ I swing my hair over my shoulder. ‘But it does sound pretty.’

He pauses. ‘What’s up with you?’

‘Nothing. Why? Does something seem up?’

‘No, you just look really happy,’ he comments. ‘You’ve seemed quite down all week. It’s good to see you smiling again.’

I didn’t think anyone on the webzine had noticed. ‘My brother’s been sick,’ I tell him. ‘But he’s fine now.’ Joy bubbles through me like I swallowed a bath bomb. ‘And Treacle just scored the winning goal in the Cup Final.’ I don’t tell him that’s not the only thing she scored. I’m not going to tell anyone till I get the after-date analysis from Treacle. ‘
And
– I just found out that they won’t be knocking down the bike shed. Cindy’s article made them change their mind.’

‘
Your
article,’ Sam says, putting down his guitar. ‘This is brilliant. We have to celebrate.’

I click open the latest webzine horoscopes to help me get back into Jessica’s voice. ‘What?’ I look up, distracted.

‘You and me.’ He brushes his hair from his face with the back of his hand. ‘Why don’t we go for a milkshake?’

I focus on the screen. I’m not sure how easy it will be to get into Jessica’s voice when all I want to say is,
Ben’s
better
, over and over again. ‘What?’

Sam gets up and comes to stand next to me. ‘Oh, please don’t tell me you have to consult your horoscope,’ he says, looking at my computer screen and laughing. ‘The whole school seems to think their life depends on Jessica Jupiter and her crazy predictions.’

A blush ambushes me. I pretend to look for something really important in my bag.

‘All right then, let’s see what yours say.’ He leans over my shoulder. ‘What’s your sign?’

‘Libra,’ I squeak, trying to coax my face back to a normal temperature.

He starts reading from the screen.
‘You may feel the scales haven’t tipped in your favour this week. But don’t fret, Star-ling. Good fortune will be linked to a young man with a three-letter name.’

I glance up from my bag. He’s looking at me, grinning broadly.

‘A three-letter name, eh? Well that decides it.’ He goes to his desk and starts putting his guitar back into its case. ‘You’ve got to come for a milkshake with me. It’s written in the stars.’