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Authors: Louise Rennison

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BOOK: A Midsummer Tight's Dream
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This was ridiculous.

Vaisey’s curls bobbed up next to Jo and she looked down at me and said, “My head’s not so red any more, is it? Maybe the boys will be at the sacred tree. Come on, Lullah.”

I was being looked at in the loo. This would have never happened at my old school.

I staggered out. Ouch, ouch!

When we got there, the boys weren’t at our tree.

I said, “Come on then, let’s go back.”

Then we heard the barking of dogs in the distance. And coming nearer, the sound of panting and crashing through the trees.

It was really scary and for some reason we all got onto a tree stump that was about a foot high, and held on to each other. Vaisey practically had her head buried in my corker area.

The barking was getting closer and closer and so was the panting and crashing.

I said, “Maybe it’s a pack of wild otters.”

Jo said, “I can hear barking.”

I said, “Well, a pack of barking wild otters.”

Jo said, “Otters don’t bark.”

I said, “They do now.”

Flossie said in a doomy voice, “No, no, it will be Fang and his wild child puppies.”

Noooooooooooo.

The panting and scuffling got nearer and nearer. We closed our eyes. I was so tired after being Mr. Sharky, I said, “Please don’t hurt us. We mean you no harm.”

The crashing stopped and a voice gasped, “Bloody hell, it’s the Tree Sisters on a stump!”

Charlie.

It was Charlie, Jack, Ben, and another couple of lads we had seen about from Woolfe Academy. But no sign of Phil. Perhaps the otters had got him.

We were still on the stump while the boys flung themselves onto the ground, panting and sweaty. They had tracky bums on and vests with numbers on the front. And attached to the numbers were a couple of sausages.

Jack was getting his breath back, but then he said, “Hello, Vaisey,” and he beamed at her.

She looked a bit shy and then smiled back at him. Her curls were all smiley. She’s right—Jack has got a nice cheeky face. His teeth are crooked but in a good way and he’s got curly hair like hers. As I was looking at him I caught Charlie’s eye and he smiled.

Him with his crinkly turning-up smile. And his really nice, slightly curly, dark blond hair, and hands and legs. And so on. But then I remembered what Charlie had done to me the last time I had seen him. Swine.

Boy swine. I would give him my icy icicle treatment. I didn’t smile back at him. I just looked away.

Then Ben smiled at me. Oh yes. With his floppy hair and his bat kissing. Yeah, his bat kissing and then saying that I was too young for him. Swine. Floppy-haired swine.

All boys are swines.

They snog you and dump you. Or lick your face. Or put bats in your mouth. Apart from Alex, who wouldn’t dream of licking your face and even if he did I would probably like it and, and …

Charlie was still panting but he said to me, “Oy, oy, Tallulah, we meet again. I’ve got a top view of your exceptional knees here, wrapped up in what look like dance tights. Have you got any snacks?”

I became icicle-like. I was an icicle in dance tights. I stepped down from the stump, trying to hide my knees, and said coolly, “Hello, Charles, I’m afraid I have no snacks, sadly. Why don’t you eat your sausage?”

Charlie looked at me in amazement.

Vaisey said, “You’ve got your secret crisp stash, Lullah.”

I didn’t say anything.

Charlie said, “Lullah, it’s me!”

Jo leapt down from the stump, threw herself into his lap, and gave him a huge hug. She said, “Charlie, Charlie. I’ve got a banana you can have.”

Charlie gave her a big hug and took the banana.

There he goes again. Hugging. Eating people’s bananas.

I know about his type.

A type that hugs a friend. (Also known as me.) And then pretends that he likes that friend’s knees. And is all round friendly and huggy. And then goes from hugging to snogging. And does good knee-trembling snogging. Then stops and says, “This is wrong, I’ve got a girlfriend.” And then goes back to his stupid pocket-sized girlfriend to hug her. Leaving a trail of hugs.

While I was wondering what to do next, Jo said, “Charlie, where’s Phil? How come he’s not with you? Is he in detention already?”

Charlie put his arm around her. I couldn’t help it—I felt a bit jealous. Of my own pal. But Charlie, the serial hugger, is in fact very good-looking and when he smiles his mouth turns up at one side. It’s a very nice shape mouth and you can actually imagine it pressing against your … Oh no! I have forgotten my icicle work.

Charlie hugged Jo a bit more and said in his deep voice, “Er, no, he’s not in detention. He’s not even at Woolfe. Phil’s not coming back to Woolfe.”

Jo leapt up.

“What do you mean Phil’s not coming back to Woolfe??”

Oh no.

Jo’s little face was all red and hot.

Her conker head was bobbing furiously.

“He didn’t even tell me. Doesn’t he like me anymore? I didn’t even punch him very hard and he—”

Charlie said, “It’s nothing to do with that. He really does like you.”

Jo looked puzzled, and like she was about to cry.

“He told me about telling the police that teenage boys are people too. And he tidied his room.”

Charlie said, “Yeah, well, it got announced in assembly this morning. The headmaster at his old school has given him a second chance. For good behavior. Our headmaster, Hoppy, said he was an inspiration to us all.”

Jo said, “What do you mean?”

Charlie said, “I’m so sorry to tell you this, but he’s being sent back to ordinary school.”

We were all shocked.

I said, “Phil … ordinary school? No. No, that’s …”

Vaisey said, “It’s inhuman.”

We could hear the barking and shouting really near and Charlie scrambled to his feet. He had his back to me as he looked into the woods. He’s got a nice bottom. Not that I think about bottoms. Or noticed his bottom particularly. It just happened to be there. Attached to his legs.

Jo was saying, “But I won’t ever see him again.”

Charlie hesitated.

“I can’t stay now. Hoppy has organized a drag race for the beginning of term and I’m one of the foxes. We have to leave a trail of sausages so that the dogs and other boys can hunt us down.”

Flossie said, “Mmmm, nice. So you boys are actually like animals in joggy bums.”

The boys started to run off. Jack called to Vaisey, “See you at the gig.”

And she said, “Look!” and showed him the plectrum. He gave her a thumbs-up and a big grin and he went off.

Charlie stopped as he went by me and looked me in the eyes and said quietly, “Look, Lullah … about that thing … that happened … well, can we … forget about it?”

The barking was getting very near now.

He said, “Oh, bugger it,” and turned and ran off into the woods after the others.

What did “Oh, bugger it” mean in boy language?

What does “can we forget about it” mean?

As we walked back to Dother Hall, Vaisey was all flushed and said, “Jack gave me a thumbsy-up for having his plectrum.”

She was all smiley.

Jo wasn’t. She’d gone all floppy and miserable. She wasn’t the only one. I was thinking about what Charlie had said to me about “forgetting about it.”

Well, he could rely on me.

I’ve forgotten about “it” already. Whatever “it” is.

The show must go on. Even with a bruised bottom.

Human glue
 

J
O WAS QUIET FOR
the rest of the day, and then after last bell she disappeared.

Vaisey said, “Maybe she has gone on the roof. Like when I thought that Jack had dumped me. You know, when Cain told him about the band rules.”

Oh yes, I remembered. Cain had told Jack that he couldn’t go out with Vaisey because the band members of The Jones didn’t have regular girlfriends. He said it was “anti-band” practice. Cain would say that.

We trooped up the stairs past the dorms and then up the narrow stairs that led on to the roof.

When we got there we discovered that Bob had put a
Danger Area—absolutely NO Admittance. Dangerous tarpaulin
notice across the stairs to the roof with a bit of ribbon to stop us going there.

Vaisey climbed over it, and me and Flossie walked straight through. Bob’s not around anyway. Probably gone off to comb his bob. We had a look on the roof but apart from a flapping tarpaulin held down with bricks there was nothing up there. It was chilly and lonely. Leaning over the parapet, I could just about see the dark outline of Woolfe Academy. I thought about Charlie over there. Not thinking about the thing that he wants us to forget about.

Oh yes, I am sure he wants to forget about the thing.

Forget about snogging a person and … and leading that person on. And pretending to like a person’s knees.

Well, I don’t think I can be friends with a boy like that.

Whoever he is.

I forget.

As we went back down into the dorm, Flossie pointed at the ceiling and said to me, “That tarpaulin is the only thing between us and the sky. Vaisey found a dead pigeon on her bedside table last night, didn’t you, Vaisey?”

Vaisey shook her curls around and said cheerfully, “Yeah, but it was just the one and it looked a bit depressed.”

Flossie said, “Well, it would be depressed, it was dead.”

Vaisey said, “No, but before that, you know, it looked like it didn’t have any mates.”

I said, “Let me get this right, Vaisey, are you saying that a pigeon committed suicide?”

Vaisey went a bit red. “Well, it looked upset.”

“Did you find a suicide note in its beak?”

Then we noticed that the curtain round Jo’s bed was drawn. We had a little peak through and Jo was lying on her bed looking at some letters. I bet they are from Phil. She looked up with her mouth all turned down like Matilda. I did my best smile, but she looked down at her letters again. Oh dear.

Flossie was rummaging through her drawers and said, “This will cheer you up, Jo. I’ve got some cheeky new corker holders.”

She held up a polka-dot lacy bra to show me and Vaisey.

It looked a bit on the large side. We went and poked our heads through Jo’s curtain. Flossie was dangling her corker holder in front of Jo. She said, “Look at these beauties.”

I was still looking at Flossie’s corker holder and said, “Flossie, is that the right size for you? Are you sure it fits? Isn’t it a bit on the, er, large side?”

Flossie had her Deep South accent on again and said, “Oh, it fits all right, Talllluuuuulah Casey. It fits REAL fine. Real snug! I’ll show you.” And she went off and swished the curtain round her bed.

I sat on Vaisey’s bed next to Jo’s curtain and said, “Are you okeydokey, my little friendette, do you want to arm wrestle or something? You like that.”

There was a pause and then Jo’s voice came through sounding like she was under a blanket. She said, “What if I never see him again? He’s the first boy I’ve ever kissed.”

Then from behind her curtain Flossie said, “Why, sometimes on hoooottttt nights, I’m just a-setting on the stoop to get some air … or is it stooping on the set? I can’t rightly say. I don’t know what ah do, it’s so goddam hooootttttt. Hey, open a window, y’all.”

Fat chance. It was about minus fifty, and anyway, you can’t open the windows because mostly there aren’t any. It’s just frames covered in clingfilm. Another Bob DIY job to cut costs. This whole place is falling down.

Jo said from behind her curtain, “I knew he was too short in the first place. When I first saw him, I said, didn’t I? I should never have trusted him. You can’t trust short people. Look at clowns.”

BOOK: A Midsummer Tight's Dream
13.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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