Mates, Dates and Cosmic Kisses (7 page)

Nesta looked doubtful. ‘How do you know he really was phoning you? He could have seen you then felt guilty and
said
he was phoning you. I mean, you didn’t answer the call, did
you? Did you check your missed calls to get the number?’

I shook my head. ‘No. I got flustered . . . And you know what a technophobe I am at the best of times.’

Nesta’s such a killjoy. I think she’s jealous just because she’s not in love with anyone at the moment.

Nesta shifted awkwardly. ‘It’s just that I tried to phone you on Saturday afternoon and no one picked up.’

Lucy saw my face drop. ‘But it doesn’t matter. You saw him. That’s what matters.’

It was too late. The rosy glow I’d been feeling turned into a black cloud. As the bell rang, I turned to go back into class. I wasn’t going to speak to Nesta any more. Now
she’d ruined everything.

‘Oh Izzie,’ said Nesta, catching up with me. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to . . .’

‘You and your big mouth,’ said Lucy to Nesta. ‘Now you’ve put your foot in it.’

After school each night, I went home alone. I felt such an idiot. Pathetic. I couldn’t face going back to Lucy’s with her and Nesta like normal. I felt mad at
Nesta, even though she might have been right. And I didn’t want them being all nice and feeling sorry for me. I didn’t know what to think, and wanted some time on my own to sort my head
out. I felt really confused.

Each night, I had to walk past the pizza shop on my way home. I could really do with one of those right now, I thought – deep pan, four cheese, and I wouldn’t care if it all went
straight to my bum. It’s hard staying healthy at times like this when I’ve been feeling so mixed up. I was beginning to think what does it matter? So I am what I eat. A limp lettuce?
Pooh.

Every evening seemed
soo loooong
, like each minute was eternal as I sat in my room, willing the phone to ring. And it didn’t. I wished I had his number so I could
call him but I didn’t even know his last name.

One night I decided to distract myself by reading my Feng Shui book:
Each room is divided into different areas, each area representing a different part of your life: creativity, wealth,
knowledge, family, friends, relationships. Each area falls in a positive or negative space depending on whether the room faces north, south, east or west
.

I got my compass out and did some calculations. That’s what was wrong, I realised. I’d got my wastepaper bin in my relationship corner!
Disastrous
. It meant I was putting
rubbish into my relationships. Duh. No wonder Mark hadn’t phoned.

I rearranged my room according to the book then started on the bathroom.

‘What on earth are you doing?’ said Angus, finding me kneeling in the corner trying to Blu-Tack the rose quartz crystal I bought for Mum for Christmas to the waste-pipe.

‘Nothing,’ I said.

‘Nothing,’ he said, then stood hovering at the doorway. He looked as though he wanted to say something but eventually just shrugged. ‘OK, suit yourself.’

I wasn’t going to waste my breath explaining that in the bathroom, our loo was in the relationship corner in a negative zone so we were flushing all the good relationship energy away. The
book said a crystal on the plumbing would help direct the energy back up again. But Angus would never understand that. All he understands is the
Financial Times
and insurance policies.

Another night, for want of anything else to do – or eat – (Mum
still
hadn’t got the message about buying more healthy stuff) I munched my way through
half a packet of choc chip cookies. Before I ate the other half, I decided to use my time more positively and do an exercise DVD. It’s called ‘Bums, Tums and Thighs’, and promises
you a whole new body in four weeks.

What it doesn’t tell you is that the next day, you’ll be so stiff you probably won’t be able to walk.

Another night and there was still
nothing
to do. I’d done my homework and there was nothing on the TV so I had a quick look at the book Dad gave me by Dorothy
Parker. She sounded pretty cool. She was a writer who lived in New York around the 1920s and it sounded like she had a rotten time with some of her boyfriends, but she managed to be really funny
about it. She used to meet up with other writers of the day at a round table in a place called the Algonquin Hotel and would have them all rolling in the aisles with her poems and sayings about
love going wrong and stuff. It sounded like a brilliant time and I thought I’d like to be like her when I grow up. We’ve got a round table downstairs in our dining-room so Nesta, Lucy
and me could have meetings like she did. There was a photo of her at the back of the book and it gave me an idea.

I went into the kitchen, got the scissors, then went into the bathroom, the one room in this house where I could lock the door. My hair is all one length and I thought it might look more
interesting if I cut a fringe like Dorothy Parker’s. I pulled a short section up at the front and snip, off it came. I combed it out and it looked pretty good. Except it was a bit uneven on
one side. So I snipped a bit more off. Oops, a bit too much. I’d better even it out. Oops. OOOOPS. Oh
no
. Now
that
was uneven. I chopped off a bit more then stood back to look
at my reflection. Tears filled my eyes. I’d managed to cut it down to a stubble. I tried to comb it under the long bits. But it kept sticking out again.

Oh God, what had I done? Stupid. Stupid. I’d just ruined my hair. Now I knew how Lucy had felt when she had a bad haircut earlier that term. What on earth had possessed me? Now I
couldn’t go out. It’d takes weeks to grow back. It was all Mark’s fault. If he had phoned none of it would have happened. Could life get any worse? I could hardly walk from doing
all those exercises and now I looked like a mad person. All because of a boy. I was seriously beginning to wonder if they’re worth the trouble.

And
I was getting a huge spot. On the end of my
nose.

‘Izzie, what are you doing in there?’ said Mum’s voice on the other side of the door. ‘You’ve been in there ages.’

There was nothing else for it. She was bound to see sooner or later. I opened the door and waited for the telling off. I didn’t care. I felt numb. Sometimes I can be
so
stupid.

‘Oh Izzie,’ said Mum. ‘What have you done?’

‘Only ruined my hair!’ I wailed. ‘Now I can never go out again.’

She gently pushed me back into the bathroom and took a closer look. ‘Got a bit carried away, didn’t you?’

I nodded miserably. ‘Aren’t you going to yell at me?’

Mum shook her head. ‘Do you want me to see if I can fix it?’

‘No, I don’t think so.’

Mum pulled a bit more hair over my face. ‘I think I could. If I cut a bit more fringe then cut into it, then you wouldn’t see the short bits underneath. Want to give it a
go?’

Mum used to cut my hair when I was little. My gran used to be a hairdresser and Mum had picked up the basics from her so I knew I could trust her not to make it any worse.

‘OK.’ I quickly showed her the photo of Dorothy Parker at the back of my book. ‘I was trying to cut a fringe like hers.’

‘Dorothy Parker! I thought most girls your age wanted a much more modern look.’

‘Not me. I want to look different from the crowd.’

‘That’s my Izzie.’ Mum smiled at me. ‘Always has to be different.’

‘Will you get me a wig for Christmas if it doesn’t work out?’

‘Sure,’ laughed Mum. ‘But I don’t think it will come to that. OK. Wet it a bit then it will cut better.’

I did as I was told and Mum carefully snipped a bit more fringe then began to cut into it. ‘It’s looking better already. And I’ll take some off the length so it doesn’t
look top-heavy.’

‘Whatever,’ I said.

She finished cutting and combing and then took me into her bedroom, got the hairdryer out and blew it dry.

‘Can I look now?’ I asked.

Mum nodded and I went and stood in front of her mirror. I was shocked. It looked really good. Just past my shoulders. More modern. And if I pushed it back it fell in a really nice layer.

‘Not bad, eh?’ said Mum, looking pleased with herself.

‘Mum, you’re a genius,’ I said and hugged her.

Now Mark just had to phone. He’d be bound to fancy me more with my new haircut.

At school the next day, Lucy and Nesta seemed agitated about something. In fact, I don’t think Nesta even noticed my hair until Lucy said she liked it.

Nesta cornered me in the corridor at lunch-time. ‘Izzie, I know I put my foot in it the other day and I think we need to clear the air. Plus we have to talk about Lucy and Tony. I . .
.’

Then Lucy came round the corner and Nesta clammed up.

Then Nesta went to get a drink from the machine in the hall, and Lucy started up. ‘Izzie, I need to talk to you.’

‘About Tony?’ I said.

‘Yes. No. Yeah. About Tony but about you as well. I’ve hardly seen you lately and . . .’

Then
she
clammed up when Nesta came back.

‘What’s going on?’ said Nesta, eyeing us suspiciously.

Then
I
clammed up. Honestly. It’s supposed to be
me
who’s going slowly bonkers. Now they’re acting all weird and I’ve lost track of who’s not talking
to who about what and why. I don’t know what Lucy’s problem is – at least she
knows
Tony likes her. All I know is Mark still hasn’t called and I don’t know
where I stand with him at all.

As we went back into class for the afternoon, I could see Lucy was looking miserable and I wondered if it was my fault. I suppose I have been a bit wrapped up in myself lately. What a mess.

When I got home on Friday night,
finally,
my mobile rang.

Let it be Mark, let it be Mark, I prayed as I leaped to answer it.

But it was only Lucy.

‘Izzie, it’s me,’ she said. ‘If you’re mad at Nesta, why aren’t you speaking to me?’

‘I
am
speaking to you, Lucy. And Nesta. It’s just I feel like being on my own lately,’ I said.

‘Well I miss you,’ she said. ‘Has Mark phoned?’

‘Not yet. But I don’t care any more,’ I lied.

‘Maybe Mercury’s gone retrograde again?’ she said.

‘Nah. I’ve checked. It’s supposed to be a good week for me according to my horoscope. In fact, the print-out I’ve just done says I’ll hear from someone I want
to.’

‘
Meeee
,’ said Lucy. ‘That’s me. One of your best mates. Remember?’

‘Yeah,’ I said unconvincingly.

‘I
am
sorry he’s not phoned,’ said Lucy. ‘But I think you’re letting it get to you.’

‘No I’m not,’ I said. ‘I’m perfectly cool with it all.’

‘Then come over for a bit. We could watch the soaps or a DVD.’

‘Can’t,’ I said. ‘I’m having an early night.’

I could hear Lucy sigh at the other end. ‘OK. I’ll call Nesta and see if
she
wants to come over.’

I felt a bit rotten after I put the phone down, and hoped that Lucy would understand.

I waited in all night. But the phone stayed silent.

On Saturday morning I checked my horoscope and it said it was a good day for confrontations so I decided I’d go to the Lock and if Mark was there, I’d have it out
with him. Ask him why he hadn’t called this week and if he
really
was phoning me last week when we met.

Unfortunately Big-Mouth phoned just as I was ready to leave.

‘I’m so sorry about Monday, Izzie,’ said Nesta. ‘I can’t bear it when you’re mad with me. Come to Hampstead. Lucy and I both want to see you. We think you
need a break from thinking about Mark.’

‘Can’t,’ I said. ‘Busy.’

Nesta went quiet on the other end of the phone. ‘I hope you’re not thinking of going to the Lock.’

‘No. Anyway, why?’ I asked.

‘Because you
mustn’t
,’ said Nesta. ‘You
know
boys don’t like it if you chase them or get heavy. They don’t like hassle, especially when
it’s early days.’

‘What makes you think I’m going to get heavy with him?’

Nesta paused at the other end of the phone. ‘Well, you have been kind of intense lately, even with me and Lucy.’

‘No I haven’t.’

‘OK,’ Nesta sighed. ‘But you haven’t been your usual self. You might think I don’t understand but I do. And I can see that Mark has really got to you. Trust me, Iz.
It’s really not a good idea to go to the Lock. You need to chill out a bit before you see him again.’

‘Fine,’ I said.

‘Fine,’ said Nesta.

Then I hung up. I wasn’t going to listen to her. Killjoy.

I made my way to the Lock, praying that Mark was working that day. I went over and over in my head what I planned to say but Nesta had got me worried. I didn’t want to be
‘heavy’ but I really wanted to know where I stood. We’d had such a good time last week. I couldn’t have imagined it. Oh, I
wished
I could feel normal again.

I was feeling really nervous as I went into the market. Was this a good idea? Should I turn back now?

‘Izzie!’ called Mark. He was there at the stall and had seen me coming up the stairs.

‘Oh, hi,’ I said, forcing my voice to sound casual. ‘I forgot you worked here.’

He looked at me strangely. ‘Really?’ he said. He looked hurt.

We both stood there looking awkward. All my carefully prepared words deserted me. I didn’t know
what
to say.

‘Er, better be going then . . .’ I said finally.

‘Oh.’ He looked disappointed. ‘I was just going to take a break. Can’t you stay a mo? We could get a cappuccino.’

I felt as if someone had poured concrete in my brain and I’d turned to stone. I was torn. Should I go, should I stay? Perhaps he’d explain. Perhaps I could ask my questions. Either
way, I wanted to know what he had to say.

‘OK,’ I said.

We made our way downstairs and Mark bought two cappuccinos at a take-away stall.

‘Sugar?’ he asked.

I shook my head. Perhaps this wasn’t the best time to say I wasn’t drinking coffee. He might think I was a weirdo.

We sat by the canal sipping our drinks. Lovely. Bliss. Oh I’d forgotten how nice and creamy and frothy these could be. Perhaps I could do my healthy eating but have the occasional treat.
Balance, I told myself, that’s what it’s all about.