The Boyfriend Dilemma (16 page)

 

There's no chance to talk to Ben at break, or even at lunchtime. Whenever Zoe and I spot him, there's a cluster of people fluttering around him, like fish all homing in on the same flake of food.

“Told you he'd be popular,” I say as Zoe and I eat our pizza slices in the canteen.

She nods and takes a big bite. “You were right.”

I take a bite too, and then spot Jude heading away from the serving area. I beckon him over. His face brightens as he carries his tray towards us.

“OK if I sit with you?” he asks.

“Sure,” I say, and he takes the seat next to mine.

“Have you seen the posters for the Acorn concert?” Zoe asks.

His smile slips a bit. “Er, yeah.”

“I don't get what's going on with the band,” I say, without thinking. “Why is it just Ben on the poster, with no mention of anyone else?”

I feel bad even mentioning it, but he shrugs and says, “Maybe they all agreed that'd be best?”

“Why, though?” Zoe asks.

Jude looks at his baguette. “No idea. I'm glad to be out of it, to be honest…” I stare at him, wondering how he's managing to handle it so well. After all, Ben marched right in and took his place. “It's different now,” he adds, “but maybe that's a good thing. I mean, we've been playing for years and never really got anywhere. We haven't played a single gig. We don't even have a name, for God's sake. And now Ben's come along, the guys have got a gig right away.”

I glance across the dining room. Ben is installed at a table surrounded by CJ, Sadie, Anja and Kim. I notice Kyle, Danny and Harris are with them but they don't look happy about it. Jude's right: everything
is
different. Maybe not in a good way, though.

 

The afternoon passes in a haze of gossip – virtually every girl in our year is desperate to know about Ben – and at home time, I happen to glance at the noticeboard beside the office. All the usual stuff is there: the latest school newsletter and stuff about netball tournaments, chess club and teachers doing a sponsored cycle ride.

And there, right in the middle – partly covering some of the other stuff – is the Acorn fund-raiser poster with Ben's face beaming out. Around it, in bright red felt-tip, someone has drawn a huge heart.

Chapter twenty-one

By the end of the day, Ben's face is all over town. Apart from at school, and on the main noticeboard in the middle of town, posters have appeared in tons of shop windows. Everywhere I look, he's there. Even Annalise has seen them. “You going to these auditions on Saturday?” she asks next morning, applying her make-up while I make toast for Matty and me.

I take a slurp of orange juice. “I don't think so,” I reply.

She peers at me across the table, her lipstick – no, it's
Mum's
lipstick – hovering close to her mouth. She must have taken it from her room after she left early for work this morning. “I am,” she announces.

By some miracle, I manage to keep a straight face. “Can you sing?” I ask.

“Yeah, course I can.”

I blink at her, hardly able to swallow my toast. “You mean, you want to be one of the guest singers?”

“Why not? I've got to do
something
. It's so boring around here, I think I'm going mad.”

I throw her a look that says,
You're already there
. I'm pretty sure that Matty, who seems to have frozen with his spoon half way to his mouth, is thinking the same.

“You can't sing at the concert,” he declares.

“Why not?” Annalise's nostrils flare open, as if a big gust of air has puffed them out.

“'Cause you're too old!”

“No, I'm not,” she retorts, jamming the lid back on the lipstick without winding it down properly. “Oh – look what you've made me do,” she gasps, pulling the lid off again. “I've squashed it.” Hmm, Mum'll be
delighted
about that.

“You can't sing at the Acorn,” Matty says firmly.

“Yes, I can! What d'you mean, I'm too old? I'm only eighteen.” I stare at her across the table, then hand Matty his rucksack and grab my own bag from the hall. Annalise is supposed to take Matty to school, but she's showing no sign of getting ready to leave.

“Shall I take him, then?” I ask.

She frowns slightly. “I'll do it if you want. What time does school start again?”

And she's meant to love working with children?

“Never mind,” I mutter as my brother and I step out into the bright spring day.

After dropping Matty off, I hurry on to meet Layla at our corner.

“Annalise wants to audition for the concert,” I blurt out.

“You're kidding! She doesn't even know anyone.”

I shrug. “It did say ‘all welcome' on the poster. God, it'll be so embarrassing when everyone finds out she lives with us! What can I do?”

“Nothing, I guess,” Layla says glumly. “This is gonna be a disaster, I can tell.”

In fact, everyone else seems to think it's the best idea ever. CJ, Sadie, Kim and Anja, plus virtually every other girl in our year, is planning to audition. No boys so far. Most of them wouldn't be seen dead singing onstage – apart from Jude, and of course, he's having nothing to do with this.

 

“You know what?” Layla says as we wander home after school. “I think we should do it.”

“You mean the auditions?” I gawp at her.

“Yeah. Oh, come on. We've been singing together all our lives, haven't we? If everyone else is taking part – if
Annalise
is doing it – then why don't we?”

I hesitate, not wanting to sound pathetic. But the truth is, I'm not so sure about singing in front of Ben. I
never
felt self-conscious onstage before he showed up but now… “OK,” I say carefully. “But only if you promise we can sing together.”

She envelopes me in a hug. “Of course! Promise. You know I'd never do it without you.”

After we've said bye at the corner, I'm so preoccupied that I barely notice the bike whizzing by. It's raining, and I just want to cosy up at home. The bike stops ahead, and Ben turns around. “Want a lift?” he asks with a grin.

“No, thanks,” I laugh. “I didn't know you cycled to school…”

He nods. No helmet, I notice. “Yeah.”

“Even in the rain? Doesn't someone pick you up?”

“Nah, it's OK,” he says quickly. “So, are you coming on Saturday?”

“To the auditions? Yes – me and Layla are going to sing together.”

He climbs off his bike and wheels it over. “Together? Why don't you sing by yourself?”

“Um, I never have,” I explain. “Sung solo, I mean.”

“You should,” he exclaims. “Your voice is really good. I heard that secret recording Kyle made of the two of you …”

“That was awful!” I exclaim, blushing madly.

“No, it wasn't…” He gives me a look that makes my heart somersault.

Does he
really
like my voice, or is he just trying to flatter me?

“Sometimes,” he adds, “it's good to stand up there all on your own.”

“I don't think I'm brave enough,” I say with a small laugh.

His eyes meet mine, and it feels as if everything – cars, people hurrying home from the shops and school – all fade to nothing. “You can be anything you want to be,” he says with a smile.

I shrug. “I don't know about that.”

He touches my arm. “C'mon, Zoe. You're so pretty you should be up there in the spotlight all by yourself.”

Before I can even utter a word, he's back on his bike and cycling away into the grey, rainy afternoon. No one's
ever
said I'm pretty before. Well, Mum has, and Layla, of course. But not a boy. No one like Ben. But then, I've never, ever met anyone like him before.

I watch him, my heart dancing for joy until he turns the corner, out of sight.

 

Layla and I practise all week. Every spare minute we have, we're either up in Layla's room, having bribed Amber with sweets to stay out of our way, or at my place with my bedroom door firmly shut. I don't tell Layla what Ben said on Tuesday because it would sound like the most big-headed thing ever. He was probably only trying to boost my confidence for the auditions. Instead, I try to push him out of my mind and focus on singing. And I try not to think about what it would be like if, instead of us performing together, it was just me on my own, in the spotlight, like Ben said.

On Saturday morning, the day of the auditions, we stand on my balcony and sing over the garden, pretending there's an audience down there. We've picked one of the songs we sang in the choir – our leader, Mr Duffy, wrote it especially for us. It's a simple melody that splits into harmonies and seems to suit our voices perfectly.

“Well done!” Mum cries up from the lawn.

“I didn't know you were out there,” I exclaim.

She smiles. It's not one of those quick, tense smiles that she flashes when she's about to rush off to work, or the tired one she musters when she comes home. It's a big, beaming smile that says she's proud of us. I look at Layla, who grins at me, and right then I know everything's going to be all right.

“We
can
do it,” I say as we step back inside.

“Course we can,” she laughs.

“Wish we could head over to the auditions together … we could get some last-minute practice in on the way.”

“I know,” Layla says, “but Mum wants me to go home first 'cause Aunty Claire's coming for lunch. It'll be easier to just meet you there.”

“You will be able to get away, though, won't you?”

“Yeah, of course – I've just got to be around to say hi. God, I don't think I'll be able to eat a thing… Hey,” she giggles, “you'll be OK – you can go with Annalise…”

“Thanks a lot,” I wail. It's only a ten-minute walk over to Danny and Jude's place, where the auditions are taking place, but I don't want to be stuck with her any longer than necessary.

“I'd better go now,” Layla adds.

We hug and dissolve into fits of laughter on our doorstep, a mixture of excitement and nerves.

Annalise is nowhere to be seen, which is a relief. I don't fancy getting into a discussion about the auditions with her.

“Are you excited?” Mum asks, setting out lunch for Matty and me. “I know you're going to be brilliant.”

“Thanks, Mum. And, yeah, I s'pose I am. But nervous, though.”

“Annalise is going to audition too,” Matty adds with a snort.

“Is she?” Mum's eyes widen. “Well, that's good, isn't it? She's joining in with local things…”

I fetch cutlery from the drawer and set the table. “S'pose so,” I say, trying to sound as if I'm at least making an effort to like her. I haven't even told Mum about Annalise squashing her lipstick or using her favourite perfume. Got to be
positive
, right?

“Very brave of her, I'd say,” Mum adds. “Considering she's new around here.”

“So's Ben,” I blurt out, immediately wishing I hadn't.

“Ah,” Mum says with a teasing grin, “I've heard a lot about this mysterious Ben.”

“Have you?” I say, foraging about in the fridge, just for something to do. I pull out a jar of pickled gherkins, even though I can't stand them.

“I could hardly miss him,” Mum says, “with all those posters pinned up around town. And I ran into Layla's mum the other day – she said he's constantly round at their house, practising for this concert.”

I plonk the gherkin jar on the table. Mum gives it a bemused look as if it might be poised to do a trick.

“Yeah, um, he's actually organized the whole thing,” I mutter.

Mum smiles approvingly. “Isn't it great, someone arriving in a quiet little place like this, determined to make things happen?”

I nod, wanting to get lunch over and done with so I can hide away in my room and have a last run-through of my part of our song. And it
is
our song: mine and Layla's. No one else will sing anything like it. Hopefully, it'll make us stand out. Either that, or everyone'll fall about laughing because it's not exactly a chart-type thing…

I swallow hard. “Where is Annalise, anyway?”

“She went to the hairdresser's,” Mum replies.

“What for?”

Mum chuckles. “To have her hair cut, I'd imagine. Or coloured. Both, probably – she went a couple of hours ago.” God, she's probably having something
amazing
done, especially for the auditions. Maybe that's what's needed for an occasion like this? I can't even apply eyeliner without looking like a panda, apparently. I glance down at my blue-and-white striped T-shirt, jeans and flat sandals, and picture Annalise, in her short skirt and heels, grabbing the microphone and belting out a song. What if she really
can
sing and outshines us all?

“Mum,” I say quietly, “d'you think I look OK?”

She turns to me and smiles. “You look lovely, darling. You always do. You're very lucky to be naturally pretty.”

I try to smile back, and to replay what Ben said on Tuesday – something about me being in the spotlight? Do I
want
that, though? I've always hidden in the shadows, really. Layla's the one who stands out, with her amazing clothes and sunny confidence.

After lunch – which I can only pick at – I grab my jacket and give Mum a hug. “Good luck, sweetheart,” she says, holding me close.

“I'm coming too!” Matty yelps.

We both swing round to see him already pulling on his trainers. “Oh, Matty, no,” I groan.

“Please!” he begs. “I won't get in the way, I promise.”

Mum grimaces. “He's desperate to watch you,” she murmurs. “He's been on and on at me all morning.”

“But, Mum—”

“C'mon,” he says, grinning. “I'll be your – what do you call it, that thing people have at football matches?”

I glance back at Mum, who's giving me such an encouraging smile, like she
really
believes in me, that I don't have the heart to say no.

“A mascot,” I mutter.

“I'll be your mascot,” he says, charging for the door. “I'm gonna make you lucky today.”