The Boyfriend Dilemma (13 page)

Chapter seventeen

We are on the Devil's Loop, Annalise and me, zooming upside down then climbing the long, slow hill and pausing for an agonizing moment before our car creeps over the top. It charges down, flying around twists and turns and finally comes to an abrupt halt.

“That was great,” she exclaims. “Let's have another go!”

“I think I'll go on something else,” I say, catching my breath and looking around for Matty, who's at the shooting game with Mum. He's already been on the Loop four times with Annalise and me, and finally said he felt sick. I do too. I mean, I
love
this ride. But, come on … five times? My stir-fry is swirling about in my stomach and I'm so dizzy I have to grip the railings as we make our way off the ride.

“Oh, come on,” Annalise insists. “Don't you like it?”

“Course I do,” I say, focusing on the little black smears where her mascara has run in the rain. “I just feel a bit queasy. Maybe later…”

“But your mum's bought us day tickets. We can go on everything as much as we want!”

“I'll be sick if I do, honestly.” I'm trying to be nice to her, but she's so
pushy.

“You're no fun,” she announces. With a resigned shrug, I head towards Matty and Mum. She's encouraging him to take aim slowly and focus on the centre of the target.

“You could win that big fluffy monkey,” Annalise says, plonking a hand on her hip.

Pow
– he shoots the bullseye. “Did it!” he screams.

“Well done, Matty,” Mum says, all smiles.

The stall man wanders over and grins. “Choose whatever you like, son.”

“Get the monkey,” Annalise says, at which Matty swings around to face her.

“I don't want the monkey. I'm not a baby, y'know—”

“Matty,” Mum exclaims, “that's so rude.”

Matty scowls and points at a row of clear plastic bags hanging at the side of the stall, each containing a goldfish.

“No,” Mum groans. “Not another fish—”

“Please, Mum,” Matty wails. “You said I could get another!”

Considering this is supposed to be a fun day out, Mum's starting to look pretty stressed. “You were so sad when Jaws died, Matty,” she reminds him. “You cried for a whole day.”

“Yeah,” he counters, “but that's 'cause a cat got in our house and ate him. That wouldn't happen again. We'd keep the windows closed.”

Mum sighs loudly. “I know, love, but these goldfish don't usually live for long and I'd hate to see you all upset again.” She turns to Annalise. “It was the neighbours' cat…”

“Oh dear,” she says, stifling a yawn, then pulls out a tiny mirror from her shoulder bag, wets a finger and wipes away the mascara smudges

“I came up to my room,” Matty goes on, “and Jaws was half-eaten on the carpet with his guts out—”

“OK, just get the fish,” Mum says quickly, smiling tightly as the stall man hands her a plastic bag.

Matty's thrilled with his prize as we make for the picnic area. “I'm gonna call him Fanta,” he announces.

“Great name,” Mum says, producing apples, cereal bars and bottles of water from her bag. “Will you have something, Annalise? Don't want you fading away.”

Annalise glances at the snacks. “No,thanks. I'm gonna buy some doughnuts. Anyone else want some?”

“No, thank you,” Mum says, answering for Matty and me. She
hates
fairground food. The one time she gave in and bought me a candyfloss – the time Matty won Jaws – she made me clean my teeth for a full five minutes when we got home.

We watch Annalise stride away to the doughnut kiosk. “Mum, she's not quite what I expected,” I murmur.

“I'm sure she's trying to be friendly,” Mum says. “Anyway, she's only just arrived and she's probably nervous – wouldn't you be, if you were suddenly thrown together with a family you'd never met before?”

“Yes, but—” I start.

“She's coming back,” Mum says quickly, and even though she greets Annalise with a wide smile, I can tell she's not completely sure about her, either. Especially when she buys
another
bag of doughnuts, plus some neon-yellow marshmallow sweets, which she scoffs all by herself.

For the rest of the afternoon, Mum waits patiently, sitting on a bench and sipping cup after cup of coffee whilst Matty and I go on the water slide, the big wheel and some of the tamer rides. Annalise spends the whole of the time on the Devil's Loop.

“She's having more doughnuts!” Matty announces, pointing as she devours her snack in the queue. Later, we spot her with an enormous pink cloud of candyfloss, then sucking on a giant stick of rock as she waits for her seventh go on the Loop.

“We really must go,” Mum says when we check back in. “The park's closing soon… Have either of you seen Annalise?”

“Nah,” Matty says.

“Me neither,” I say. It's starting to rain again now, and the sky has turned stormy grey.

“I hope she's all right,” Mum says as we start to search for her.

“Of course she is, Mum,” I try to reassure her. “She's eighteen. I'm sure she can take care of herself.”

That's when I spot her, wobbling towards us in her towering heels. Her black hair's all straggly and her red lipstick is smeared, and her face is literally a startling shade of green.

“Annalise!” Mum cries, hurrying towards her. “What happened to you?”

“Feel sick,” she mutters, clasping a hand to her stomach.

“Oh, you poor girl. Let's get you home.”

“Sorry,” she groans as we head for our car.

“Don't worry,” Mum tells her. “All that matters is that you're OK. Will you be all right on the drive home, d'you think?”

She nods miserably, and we all climb into the car. Matty and I exchange looks on the back seat as Mum pulls out of the car park. “Poor you,” she says again. “I feel so
responsible
…” Hang on – it wasn't Mum who forced her to eat all those doughnuts and sweets and then go on a roller coaster a million times, was it? Annalise has her head in her hands now, and Mum's so distracted by constantly glancing at her that the car behind us beeps at us.

“Mum,” I say, “the traffic lights have turned green…”

“Ooops,” she says, adding, “Maybe you'd better go to bed when we get home, Annalise. You do look terrible.”

“I'll be all right,” Annalise mutters, then there's a terrible splattering noise as she's sick all down her front.

“Oh, God,” Mum cries. “I'll stop as soon as I can—”

“Ugh, that stinks!” Matty announces.

“Yes, thank you, Matty,” Mum snaps, like any of this is his fault. His face crumples and he grips the top of his goldfish bag.
Hey
, I whisper to him as Mum pulls into a lay-by,
it's all right.

Is it really, though? I'm still wondering when Annalise pukes again, on our stair carpet and the landing, before tumbling into bed.

“What a day!” Mum says, sinking onto the sofa between Matty and me, after clearing up the mess.

“I don't like her,” Matty growls.

“Come on, darling,” she says gently, “I'm sure she's a perfectly nice girl. Everyone gets sick sometimes.”

Mum smiles at me, but I see a flicker of worry in her eyes. She puts an arm around me, and I snuggle closer, glad it's just the three of us here. I know Annalise has only been here for one day, but things already feel different and I don't like it one bit.

Chapter eighteen

Zoe isn't allowed to come over during the next few days. “Mum says it's our chance to get to know Annalise,” she says glumly, so I hang out with Mum and Amber and Gran, and try not to think of my Easter holidays slipping away. Things look up on Thursday, when I hear Danny, Jude and Harris arriving, and I assume that Ben will turn up soon to join them. But when Kyle ushers the boys up to his room, it's clear that he hasn't been invited today.

“He's only just moved here and he wants to organize a concert?” That's Danny's voice I can hear through my bedroom wall. “That's a bit weird.”

“It's not a bad idea,” Jude offers. “If no one raises enough money soon, the Acorn will close and then where are we going to rehearse?”

“It does seem a bit much, though,” Kyle adds. “Like he's trying to take over.”

“Yeah,” Danny says. “I mean, he's great and all that. I like having him around. But it's almost as if no one else gets a say in what we do any more.” It's Friday afternoon and the four boys are grumbling away in Kyle's room. As usual, I can hear every word.

“And we don't really need anyone new in the band,” Harris adds. “Jude's our guitarist.

“You're not even in it,” Danny teases him. “You don't play anything—”

“I help, don't I?” he retorts. “I come up with ideas for songs—”

“Ben
is
a brilliant guitarist, though,” Kyle points out.

“Yeah,” Jude agrees. “I s'pose we've just got to put up with him trying to organize us all.” I'm wondering how Jude really feels about this. He might be a younger, but he never misses a rehearsal. Sometimes, I suspect he's the one who takes the band most seriously. And if Ben joins permanently, will there still be a place for him?

“Ben doesn't even know our songs,” Danny points out.

“Well, he did come to a rehearsal,” Kyle reminds him.

“Yeah, but not to listen to us. He just wanted to play his own stuff, remember?”

“His songs are pretty good,” Jude adds.

“Are you saying ours aren't?” snaps Danny, in that bossy, big-brotherly way he has sometimes.

“No, of course not—”

“We've been together for years and he's gonna barge in and change everything?” That's Danny again, and in some ways he's right.

Ben
has
changed everything. The boys never used to bicker like this; I don't think I've ever heard them argue in all the years they've been friends. And something's come between me and Zoe too. I haven't even told her about hanging out with Ben in the tree house up at Dean House. Plus things aren't the same for me, either. I can't seem to concentrate these days. I can't read or draw or finish stitching the multi-coloured braid onto the denim shorts I found in the charity shop, or do any of the things I used to love doing. I could call Zoe, but no doubt she's out yet again with Annalise. I hope she's not always this busy. New term starts on Monday and her mum's not keen on her hanging out at my place after school because she reckons she should spend about eight hundred hours a night doing homework.

There's a knock on the door followed by a silence in Kyle's room.

“Can't anyone answer the door around here?” Mum calls out downstairs to no one in particular. Then, “Oh, hello, Ben. The boys are in Kyle's room – just head up… And, Layla? Come here a minute, love! I want to go through your school uniform with you, make sure you're all sorted for next term…”

I groan and head for the door.

“Hey,” Ben says with a big grin as we meet on the landing.

“Hey,” I reply awkwardly.

“Just here to talk to the guys about the concert…”

I force a smile. “Great…” Has he any idea that they're finding him a bit pushy? Probably not. I've never met anyone so confident and sure of himself before.

“It's going to be brilliant,” he adds. “You will take part, won't you?”

“Yeah, of course,” I say, hurrying downstairs.

In the kitchen, Mum has spread out all my school clothes on the table. “That time of year again,” she says, giving me a wry smile. Last term, she means. Which basically translates as:
OK, so you've just about grown out of everything but can we possibly get through to the summer holidays without having to buy anything new?
I pick up a grey skirt that would just about fit a hamster, and a V-necked sweater that's not just bobbly, it's virtually
all
bobble.

“Mum, it all looks a bit tragic,” I murmur. “I did tell you that when we broke up.”

She sighs. “I know, sweetheart. We should have gone shopping at the start of the holidays…”

“You're lucky.” I swing round to see Jude in the kitchen doorway, clutching his guitar. “Mum still tries to force me into Danny's old cast-offs.”

I smile at him, pleased that he doesn't seem annoyed any more, like he was when he marched out of Norelli's. I'm also wondering what's happening up in Kyle's room. “Yeah, well – I s'pose this lot'll do me as long as I stop growing,” I add with a shrug.

He chuckles, then says, “Anyway, I'm off,” and makes for the door.

“I thought you were planning this fund-raising thing?” I call after him.

“Well,
they
are,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “At least, they're trying to.”

I blink at him. “It all sounded a bit heated up there.” I pause. “Sorry, I couldn't help overhearing…”

“That's OK.” His eyes meet mine. “But you're right – it's ended up with everyone bickering…”

“Because of Ben?” I ask.

“Yeah.” Jude shrugs. “You know what we're like. We've always agreed on pretty much everything, and it's been
everyone's
band – like, there's no boss…”

I nod, glad that he feels he can talk to me. “And now,” I suggest, “there
is
a boss.”

“Yep. It's just not the same, Layla. Everyone's falling out because Ben wants us to drop all our songs and play his, which is fine, they're really good, but he's going to do all the guitar solos too—”

“What does Kyle think?” I cut in.

“He said it's not happening, that everyone has to agree – but you know what Ben's like…”

My face flushes pink. “Yeah.”

“He kind of gets what he wants.”

There's an awkward pause and I glance down at my feet. “So,” I say hesitantly, “what about you? I mean …
you
do the solos, don't you?”

We're standing in the doorway now, and Kyle appears on the stairs. “Jude, don't be like this,” he mutters. “Don't storm off.”

Jude looks up at my brother, determination shining from his eyes. “I'm not storming anywhere.”

“Yeah, you are—”

“I told you,” Jude interrupts, “it's been brilliant. Being in the band's the best thing I've ever done. But you know what? Once it stops being fun, I'm out.”

“But you can't!” Kyle exclaims. “We
need
you.”

“Yes, I can,” Jude says firmly. “There are other people I can play with. Maybe it's time for a change anyway.” He turns away from Kyle, and his eyes meet mine briefly, then he slings his guitar onto his back and strolls off down the street as if he hasn't a care in the world.