Super Awkward (18 page)

“It was a total accident, but she felt like she'd let you down. Like she'd let the three of us down. You know how good at life she
normally
is?!”

Well I knew how pretty excellent at life she
was
. The person that always sorted out
our
dramas, not made her own. Which is why this had hurt even more.

“I know it doesn't help, but it was just a massive wrong place, wrong time, bad decision. So she figured pretending it never happened – and I KNOW how crazy that sounds now – but she really did think it would make Luke look even more pathetic . . . and be the best thing for us.”

I
waved an instant goodbye to my mouth-staying-out-of-it rule.

“THE BEST THING?! What planet were you on?”

“Planet Total Idiot? Honestly, if there was
anything
we could do to take it back, or to put it right, we'd do it. In a second. . . We miss you.”

She smiled softly. Hopefully. Like her words could be the superglue we needed to stick our friendship back together.

“And I want to hear the details about Zac. The gossip's going crazy. Someone said you're moving in together?”

I couldn't help but laugh. If only.

But Rachel's face fell.

What had she seen? I turned to where she was squinting. Through a stack of books on yeast and fermentation, I spotted The Grossness. Luke. Too bad he saw me too. And he wasted no time in coming over.

“Wow, Rach. So the technique does work then. Standing next to an ugger does make you look even hotter?” He didn't even bother whispering. What. A. Rebel.

“She's
crouching
, actually.”

“Whatever. Crouching fittie, hidden minger.”

It didn't even make any sense.

SSSHHHHHH.

First official shush. But Luke didn't care and carried on talking like we were outside. He'd probably never been in a library before.

“So, B. I heard you've got even more carried away with your imaginary boyf?”

I hated how he always used nicknames, like he was our friend.

“So,
L
. He's not imaginary. Or my boyf.” I annoyed myself with the speed I snapped back. “Yet.”

“So even an imaginary dude won't go out with you? That's next-level tragic.”

SHHHHHHH.

Rachel stood up, eye to eye with Luke, leaving me staring up at them both like a naughty child. Her voice was at a whisper, but she sounded fierce.

“You don't know what you're talking about.”

“Oh, don't I? Do you not think it's completely blates that Blobfish here has made the whole
boyf
thing up to make herself look popular? It's so embarrassing, and
everyone
thinks it.”

Correction, everyone only thought it now he'd gone out of his way to make sure they did. Sarah let it slip. Man, he made my blood boil. Deep breath, Bella. He's just trying to wind you up. I picked up my bag and
stood
up. If you can't beat them, flee.

“Look, Luke.” It kind of rhymed. “When is it finally going to go in? Leave. Me. Alone.”

He nodded.

“Will do. When I get an apology. For saying
I
was the liar when
your
bessie snogged me.” Rachel shook her head, disgusted, but Luke wasn't stopping. “And for not admitting that, just like your mates, you can't seem to tell the truth either. Unless of course you want to come clean and admit you made this whole ‘Zac' thing up?”

How DARE he threaten me?

“Why is it ANY business of yours who I see – and what I say about it?!”

Luke's face hardened. I'd riled him. Good.

“Well
you're
the one who got all up in my face about how you were going to bring this hot new kid to prom. This new boyfriend – sorry not-yet-boyfriend – who literally
no one
has even seen. It's time to grow up, Blob. Time to accept that no one wants you – and we all know it.”

“HE DOES EXIST, YOU MORON.”

Erk. My crossness broke the shouting rule. I COULD NOT get into any more trouble today.

SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

But maybe there
was
a way I could shut Luke up
once
and for all? Make the rumours stop. That's the thing with Luke. That's how he functions. Makes me do things sane me would never do.

“And I don't need to wait for prom to prove it.”

I took out my phone. All I had to do was share the one thing I'd been keeping private. Keeping special. Vacuum packed in happy memories. The pic of Zac and I together. I closed down
PSSSST
and opened up my camera roll.

But as I scrolled down through my post-date smiling selfies, feeling Luke's breath on my hair as he watched over my shoulder, smirking under his breath, I thought of how brilliant that day with Zac had been. And how it had been so brilliant because it was real. So what was more important to me? Shutting Luke up, or keeping Zac out of his stupid games? I stared at my screen wishing I knew what to do.

“PHONE AWAY, MS FISHER.”

The library plunged into total silence as the teacher on duty shouted across the room. He was giving me serious evils from behind his desk. Just my luck to get spotted. I mouthed ‘sorry' and stuffed my phone out of sight. The picture could wait. I couldn't risk a single prom point just to shut Luke up, as much as I'd love to wipe that stupid smug grin off his face.

I
waited till the teacher had got back to marking papers before I dared to risk whispering again. I stood up so I could hiss straight into Luke's ear.

“Guess you'll have to wait for prom after all.”

He smirked.

“Guess I will. And let me tell you, I am literally counting down the days till I see you turn up dateless. Can. Not. Wait.” He turned to leave. “And enjoy that book. You've got a lot to learn.”

He held up his hand like a phone, mouthed ‘call me' at Rachel, and walked off. What book was he talking about? I looked at the table and registered what I'd dramatically grabbed earlier –
From Erections, to Earlobes: The Truth About Boys' Bodies
. Classy choice, Bella.

I was shaking with rage. There are only two things in life I want to take back. One is last year when my bikini top snapped whilst on a zip wire at a water park in Stafford. The other is ever going out with Luke.

Rachel put her arm around me and guided me back into sitting.

“I know you hate me, and I get it. But how about you let me make it up to you? We could start by sitting by each other in PSHE later – and figuring out what to do about Puke. Maybe you could fill me in on all the non-imaginary-Zac deets?”

But
for a change I wasn't thinking about Zac. I was thinking about me. Rachel was right. I needed a plan to deal with Luke, cos avoiding him wasn't getting me anywhere. And his hate campaign wasn't doing me any favours when it came to getting back into the teachers' good books. I needed every prom point I could get, and right now I was dateless, inviteless and planless.

Fixing everything was going to be tough.

I could do it alone. Or. . . I looked at Rachel. Or . . . or I could have someone there with me.

“How about I see you in PSHE then?”

She smiled. And for the first time in weeks I smiled back.

But I wasn't as happy as I looked. There was one more big thing I needed to sort out. Figuring out what to do about Tegan. As scary as it was to face up to, if Rachel and I were going to try and be friends, then it was going to be harder than ever to ignore her. Sooner or later we were going to have to talk. But was I going to be able to let her back, or would I have to push her away for ever?

CHAPTER

EIGHTEEN

‘I, Bella Fisher, take you Zac Whose Last Name I've Still Forgotten To Ask, to be my lawful life partner.' Wowee, imaginary Zac looked good in an imaginary suit. And that imaginary chocolate life-partnering cake tasted good too.

I threw my chocolate wrapper in the bin outside the art classroom. If I hid the evidence, it was like it never happened. Still, I was celebrating. Not only had I just imaginarily pledged my allegiance to Zac, not only was it almost the week anniversary of being friends again with Rachel, not only had I not seen Luke since the library, but today was also the day that for the first time ever my name had gone up on the netball team noticeboard. Sure, I think it was because
I'd
accidentally caused physical injury to three of the regular team, and Sarah had no other options as it was the same night as craft club. But that aside, I, someone who sometimes got out of breath putting my hair up, would officially be representing St Mary's this week as goalkeeper when we took on JOGS. One small step for netballing teams, one giant leap towards me having spare prom points. Although I have very limited leaping skills. Now all I had to do was get through this week, starting with a mega-long art session.

Which didn't seem that big a deal.

Oh boy. Could I have been more wrong?

CHAPTER

EIGHTEEN B

I switched off my phone. I never want to think about what happened earlier ever again in my whole life. Surely Mondays aren't legally allowed to be this dramatic?

If I close my eyes and wish hard enough, can I magic myself somewhere else when I open them? Maybe Australia – no, not far enough. Weren't they looking for people to move to Mars?

I opened my eyes. Still in my room, and even worse, my bedside mirror confirms I'm still blushing four hours after the incident. After all we'd been through, couldn't it be kind and lie to me?!

Ow. My phone vibrated next to my head. Who now?

My name's not Bella, it's Bell-errrr-ina?!!! Classic!

lolololololol
xxx

Thanks, Mikey. So he'd heard too. Glad someone's finding this funny.

I cranked up my music to try and drown out Mum and Jo watching re-runs of
Countdown
. I HAVE to distract myself. I absently opened
PSSSST
. I'd posted this time yesterday, when Tegan was playing on my mind, and I'd remembered one of our first-ever big secrets.

ONE OF MY FRIENDS KNOWS EVERYTHING

ABOUT EVERYTHING.BUT WHEN SHE WAS LITTLE

SHE DIDN'T USED TO UNDERSTAND KISSING – ALL

SHE KNEW WAS SHE HAD TO BE GOOD AT IT. SO

AT A SLEEPOVER SHE CALMLY ASKED HER MUM IF

WE COULD PRACTISE ON HER. EWWW!

(FYI OBVS HER MUM SAID NO. BUT STILL!!)

Seeing as it was all on the d-low, I didn't think it mattered that the other secret was that it was actually me who had suggested parent pashing. It was totally innocent, and only Rachel and Tegan had witnessed it, but asking to snog your mum, whatever the circumstances, is probably some form of criminal
offence.
I checked the post. Wow. It already had 300 likes. My highest yet.

Any other day and I'd be buzzing, but right now I felt like my body and mind were on power-saving mode and all I could manage was blinking. And breathing. And feeling sorry for myself.
Eurgh.
This time yesterday I'd just got back from a great day. I'd spent the afternoon at Rachel's house doing some YouTube tutorials on how to tone eyebrow muscles (I'd put my foot down at inviting Tegan), had an excellent MIAGTM sighting, got another funny comment on
PSSSST
from LilDrummerBoy, found some hilare pictures of Jo with a haircut that looked like a penis, and was about to eat a shepherd's pie. Now? Now everything had changed.

I flung back the covers, pulling on my horse slippers for the three-second journey to my crisis area. The floor by my radiator.

Dear World, I, Bella Fisher have decided
to never leave my house again and resign as a
member of the human race. I am no good at it,
and every day gives me more opportunities to
entertain all other humans with my misfortune.
Please consider this my resignation following
today's pivotal events. Au revoir.

Using
French made it seem more dramatic. More ‘romantic' tragedy, than ‘I'm a massive tragedy'. Must write it down and post a copy to everyone, like a bad news Father Christmas. Yes. I felt a bit better already.

The scene of the shame was the art room. Mr Lutas's domain. Last lesson of the day. A totally average occurrence, where totally average things should happen.

The room had been noisier than normal as for the first time, we were going to be joined by some of our sixth formers, including some newbies. Teaching support was part of one of their modules and they'd been assigned our class to help out with until the end of term. But what was causing the chatter was that apparently one of the boys was hotter than the sun. I was obvs avoiding eye contact with Tegan, but my side-eye had spotted that even
she
had applied clear (school regulation) lipgloss awaiting their arrival.

I was sitting in my usual place, all of my work on this month's project in trays in front of me. I was happy, I was laughing, I was totally unaware of what was about to happen.

Earlier this year, Mr Lutas had set us the title of ‘Trilogy of Emotion' and my project had been going surprisingly well. I think it was because it was the kind
of
art that didn't actually need to look like anything, so if you went wrong, no one could tell, and you could just say, ‘Oh, well that
is
art'. For ‘Hate' I was originally going to make a photography project, with loads of pictures of conceptual toilet-door gender signs. It drives me mad – how am I meant to know if I'm a mermaid or a seahorse, or an elephant with or without a tusk, or a cake or a biscuit? I just need to wee. However, I thought taking pictures outside toilet doors might get me A-rrested rather than an ‘A', so instead I'd done a clay sculpture of a chunk of Stilton, with a whole pineapple on top. Cheese + pineapple = true crime against food. Sculpting cheese was also mega easy. I just had to make one big shape, because cheese can be any shape. Cheesey-peasy.