I Lost My Mobile At the Mall (5 page)

BOOK: I Lost My Mobile At the Mall
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Friday afternoon.
Six days PM.

It's been the longest and boringest week of my entire life. The weather in Oldcastle has been really bad – rainy and windy. It should be spring, but this October week feels more like winter. At least I know that I haven't missed a thing without my mobile, because there's been nothing to miss.

I spent a lot of time this week in The Dungeon working on the latest edition of the school newsletter. This is my first year as Editor-in-Chief. I like being the boss, even though I only have a staff of one – Karen Crenshaw, who does all the design. When Mr York gave me the editorship, the first thing I did was change the name from
Ye Olde Castle News
(!) to the
Posh Post
. (You know – after Victoria Beckham, AKA Posh Spice, who's modern English royalty.
Geddit?
)

Well at least it's a
new
joke. Even if sometimes I think there's nothing new about Oldcastle.

Seriously,
Ye Olde Castle News
was ye olde rag! There has to be more to life at Oldcastle High than the usual brain-numbing reports from school excursions and the sports results:
Once again the senior football
team showed they were the equal to any school in the Britannia
District League with a convincing win over Lady Jane Selective
High.

The next thing I did was take the newsletter online, which made it so much more eco-friendly. The old printed newsletter was just another thing to chuck away. So now the
Posh Post
comes out every month at www.poshpost.oh.au. It's got heaps of good stuff on it – links to other websites, photo galleries, articles, cartoons. I've made a page for book, movie and television reviews. There's also a gallery for celebrity sightings (unfortunately that idiot Bad Mickey B's on there) and it's where I was going to post the pic of Bianca and Hugh Jackman – the pic which is now (shudder) gone forever!

I took the pic on the red carpet at the Majestic Movieplex premiere of
Australia
last year. Bianca's leaning over the railing as Hugh's walking past and you can see half of her face behind his left shoulder. It's the first and only time I can remember any real celebrity visiting Oldcastle, so I can understand why Bianca's so dark at me for losing it.

Anyone can post comments on the
Posh Post
site if they want, although I get to choose what goes up, 'cos I'm the webmaster. But so far most comments, apart from the insulting anonymous ones, are tedious letters from teachers. I
have
to use them.
Sigh!
So the
Posh Post
is a lot more dreary than I'd like it to be. The students around here don't seem to care much about what goes on the site, but I do. I'd like to be a journalist one day and Mr York says he'll count my work on the
Posh Post
as part of my exam results.

'You're quite a tidy writer with a very entertaining turn of phrase,' says Mr York as he scrolls the pages. 'I certainly think we'll be seeing the name Elly Pickering in the media in future.'

Only thing is, he fancies that I will be reporting from a war zone in the Middle East and I'd like to be a fashion writer. Not that reporting on fashion around here has much of a future:
This sizzling summer in Oldcastle
the hot look is T-shirts, singlets, cargo pants and rubber thongs –
the same as it was last season . . . and the one before that.

Since I came home from school I've been putting together a photo gallery of the school senior football final. (OK, there are some things I
have
to do, but at least it's a fun slideshow with some music behind it.)

It's also been a lonely week because I'm still avoiding Bianca. That's been easier without my mobile. The hideous pics of me were still in Jai's great photograph album in cyberspace last time I looked. Which is making me madder and madder. I can only think that Tilly's absolutely right and that Bianca is being jealous and destructive. All Bianca has to do is the right thing. As soon as Jai takes the stupid pics down, I will call off Tilly the attack corgi.

The other downer is that I haven't been able to talk to Will. He's been away from school on some surf camp with the Year Ten boys all week. At least I know he still won't have seen the pics Jai put up, 'cos it's strictly 'no computers' at school camps, and Will's even less interested in looking at FacePlace on people's phones than he is on a computer.

It's been driving me crazy not to hear his voice. I've been spending hours looking at a photo gallery I made of him – Will lying in the sand, his golden hair tangled in seaweed; Will's great big feet crusted with pearly shells; Will way out the back suspended in a blue, blue ocean, sitting on his board and waving to me. Honestly, he is the most gorgeous boy in the world! Maybe he's not an elf or a faerie or an angel. Maybe he's a merman.

LUWAMH XXXX

Tilly's putting her plan into action tonight. Lily Cameron has told her boyfriend Jayden that she's having a 'girls' night in' and can't see him. Then she's going to ring Jai and ask him to drop by her house with a couple of free Palatial pizzas. Tilly will be there with her camera and try to get Jai into the spa with Lily. Then she'll snap away! Tilly says Lily's only too happy to put them on her FacePlace mirror and then . . .

ROFL

It'll also serve him right for hitting on her behind his brother's back! Jayden will go seriously mental.

So now all I have to do is keep myself occupied until the balance of the universe is restored. I hear my mum come in the door and make the usual greetings.

'Here, Harry. Here, Harry,' she calls. 'Look at you! Good dog.'

I swear she looks forward to seeing that mutt more than she does me. I decide to make one more attempt on the mobile front. It's been almost a week now and being without it is killing me. Didn't I say that a sharp, fatal blow to the head from my mother would be a better way to die? I was
so
right.

I walk to the kitchen and see my mother whacking a frozen lasagne into the oven and then pouring herself a massive glass of red wine.

'Get off there, Camilla! Get off NOW!' she screeches at the cat.

I make a tactical decision not to ask her about getting a new phone.

'Hi darling,' she says wearily. 'Can you watch this lasagne and get it ready for dinner? I've spent the afternoon in Diana's Bouquet and I have a massive headache. I hate jonquils. They stink! I'm going to have a bath.'

When I see her drag herself towards the bathroom and leave her phone on the bench, I pounce and ring Will. He'll be back from surf camp now, surely.

'Yeah,' Will drawls.

Again, the sound of his voice washes the doubts away. I'm so excited to talk to him. It's been four whole days! I've been having major Will withdrawal pains. I ask him what surf camp was like. Did he catch any good waves? Did Mr Battenburg, the Year Ten coordinator, get any? Or was he a total wipe-out like last year? Who did Will hang out with? What was the food like? Any embarrassing gossip?

I ask him all this, even though the only thing I really want to know is:
Did you miss me?

'It was all, you know, cool,' says Will.

And that's it for the whole surf camp topic. Sigh! He really isn't into talking on the phone. Then I ask him what he's doing tonight?

'Nothing much,' he yawns. 'Weather's pretty crap. I might stay in.'

I tell him I can come over to his, or he can come to mine and we can maybe watch a DVD or . . . something (I'm thinking smooching in The Dungeon).

'Nah, I can't. Mum's making us all a big dinner – some Spanish rice thingo. What . . .?' (And here Will calls to his mother, who must be standing close by.) 'Paella . . . Mum says it's called paella. Anyway, she wants me to stay in so . . .'

So there goes my Friday night! I tell him I
really
need to see him this weekend and he mumbles back that if the surf's good he might go to Hammerhead tomorrow. I ask him what time, exactly, he'll be there ('cos we can't ring each other).

'Uh, look, I'm not sure –' He hesitates. 'Gotta see what the surf's doing. I can't make it blow offshore whenever I want. I can't tell you what I've done and where I'm gunna be every minute of every day. I'll see you, so stop stressing out on me.'

I'm so surprised by his tone of voice that I ring off and dump the phone on the counter. It's like a chill winter wind has stirred the branches of Lothlórien wood.

This is Jai's scabby work! I'll bet Will has seen the pics and, just as Jai wanted, every time Will thinks of me he sees me covered in yoghurt, dribble or hair. This is beyond depressing! After all, aren't I Will's 'little leg rope'? He always says that I'm strong and independent and he's never complained before that I crowd him. Maybe I am giving him a hard time. Without my mobile I can't help thinking that everyone's talking behind my back.

I didn't get to mention the dance coming up soon. There's lots of stuff to arrange. Who's dropping us off? Who's picking us up? What are we going to
wear
? I have to look OTT this year and with money tight
and everything
I'll probably be forced to make a secret raid on the heap of clothes on Tilly's floor. I know she's got some great stuff – somewhere under there. Even if Will is a bit turned off by those pics of me, my utterly gorgeous Tilly ensemble will obliterate them from his mind!

I drag my sorry self back to The Dungeon and slump in my chair. When I look at the screen I see that there's an eye2eye from Bianca on FacePlace.

Hey Els. Reeelly miss U. Jai out with boys. Wanna catch movie?

BXXX

In truth, about the last person on earth I want to see is Bianca Ponsford, but then I remember what Dad says:
'Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.'

I google this saying and find out it's by Sun Tzu, who wrote this book called
The Art of War
in 400 BC or something like that. It's all about the strategies you should use against your enemy when you are going into battle. This dude's also got a couple of other ideas that appeal:

  • O divine art of subtlety and secrecy! Through you we learn to be invisible, through you inaudible; and hence we can hold the enemy's fate in our hands.
  • All warfare is based on deception.
  • Hence, when able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must seem inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near.

With all this in mind I write back to Bianca:

C U at Majestic in 1 hour.

EXXX

I have to keep Bianca close to me so that she doesn't try to meet Jai and ruin Tilly's little surprise party. I have to make it seem like I'm totally, randomly in the moment with her as a BF even though I am plotting her boyfriend's downfall. I hate to deceive Bianca, but this is the ancient, divine art of warfare and she has, unfortunately, aligned herself with my enemy. She is a part of the Axis of Evil. Her fate is now in my hands!

I am just about to get dressed when there's a
ping
on the computer and I see it's an eye2eye from Carmelita:

Hey Elly.

I've been checking out Jai's FacePlace and some of the pages of the
crew at Oldcastle High and there are heaps of people paying out on him!

I reckon you are totally winning the war on Jai. He's a bully and a
bogan! You look funny and cute and adorable in those pics.

Sometimes people get jealous of you (and only a Total BFF can
tell you that). But those pics just make them see how fun you are! And
why I miss you soooo much!!!

So stay strong and don't mind what others say. Everything will be
cool. Luv ya! Miss ya heaps!

Carmelita XXX

Erk! Could this be true? When I go to Jai's FacePlace and brave the vile pics one more time, I see that there are in fact a lot of messages paying out on him.

UR stupid,Jai.

Wot a lowlife d***head!

Not fair.UR nasty and mean.

Got pix of Jai in his undies – anyone wanna see?

Eeeyew! No tks.

Elly's got more class in her little finger than Jai's got in his whole body.

Honestly, I feel like crying. Goes to show there is some justice in cyberspace after all! When I think of Tilly's plan, I wonder if we might be going too far. I remember that I felt a bit uneasy about it when she first told me. I hear Tilly's door slam in the South Wing and I tear into the kitchen. She's grabbing her car keys off the hook and winding a leopard-print chiffon scarf around her slim neck.

'
It's payback time!
' she sings.

I babble that I'm not sure that we should do it. Maybe Sun Tzu's got the whole thing wrong and . . . Well, surely the ultimate 'Art of War' is to avoid war?

'
What
are you talking about?' demands Tilly.

I realise I sound like a nutter, but I tell her that maybe Jai and Bianca didn't mean it and that –

'Don't be a total doormat,' snaps Tilly. 'You have to show Jai you can't be stomped on. You have to stand up to bullies. And the idea that a Year Nine boy can think he's got a chance with a Year Twelve girl?
Forget
about it!
On that score alone, he has to be crushed like an ant.'

Crushed like an ant?
Hmmm, that sounds pretty good.

'As for Bianca? Maybe if she gets rid of Jai, she can get a nicer boy. We'll be doing her a favour.' And then, with a swish of chiffon and a stolen waft of Mum's Coco perfume, Tilly's off out the door.

Half an hour later, I am too. And it's only when the bus stops outside the Majestic Movieplex that I remember the lasagne in the oven.

Friday night.
Six days PM.

Bianca makes the weird choice to see
He's Just Not That Into You
, starring Jennifer Aniston (Best Hair Ever Award for years running), Scarlett Johansson, Drew Barrymore and Jennifer Connelly. In fact, in the hair department it's a total five-star fest.

The thing that's depressing, though, is that in every relationship in the movie, one person is into it more than the other one. Could that be me and Will? I shake off this idea. Will and I have been going out together for ten months and I know by now that there's only one thing he is into more than me – a six-foot offshore cyclone swell. No girlfriend of a surfer could ever compete with that. It's hard to take, but it's a fact.

Bianca's bawling into her second purse-pack of tissues and honking like a llama when the lights come up. I steer her towards Cromwell Café. The walk might give her a chance to pull herself together.

I'm surprised that it actually feels good to be out walking in the main street of Oldcastle with Bianca tonight. It's cold and we pull our hoodies over our heads (even though it crushes our hair) and mash our hands into our pockets.

We both look fab – me in a grey woollen minidress cinched with a red leather belt, thick black tights and black suede ankle boots. Bianca's wearing kitten heels, jeans, a gorgeous glittery black long-sleeved top and this totally great blue fake-fur shrug tied with a satin ribbon. Pity we have to wear our hoodies over the top. But it's not like anyone's going to care much in the streets of Oldcastle on a freezing Friday night.

We stop and look in the window of Princess Slippers and I spot a divine pair of purple wedge shoes that look like they're made out of some sort of sleek plastic. Bianca gives them the nod. She's texting like crazy, as per usual, but in those rare intervals when she gives me her full attention, we are totally connecting.

There are a few people out and about – the usual crowd hanging in front of the London Tavern, puffing on cigarettes and shivering in the night air. Then, even with her hoodie pulled almost over her eyes, Bianca spots a full-on fashion disaster.

'Don't look, Elly,' she gasps. 'White stretch denim jeans, silver sequin singlet and pink thongs getting out of a taxi. I said, DON'T LOOK!'

I manage not to swivel my head the whole way and I'm proud of myself. Months of training from Bianca have finally paid off. When we walk past and I see the actual crime, I high-five Bianca – it's definitely an eleven on the drack-o-meter and well spotted.

Soon we are sitting in Cromwell's, sipping on hot chocolate and hogging a basket of fried chips smothered in salt and tomato sauce and, really, despite everything that's happened, it's just like old times.

'I want to tell you something, El,' says Bianca, looking up at me with her wide blue eyes as she tries to prod her squashed do into place. Her hair looks like a punched-in profiterole. 'I am
soooo
sorry for what Jai did with the photos.'

It looks like she's going to cry again.

'You were right. Jai found them when he borrowed my phone. I had a massive fight with him tonight and I finally made him take them off FacePlace,' Bianca sniffs. 'I told him I would break up with him if he didn't.'

Ulp! This
so
isn't what I was expecting and I stuff hot chips in my mouth so I don't have to reply. OW! I burn my tongue but try not to let it show.

'The thing is –' Bianca wipes tomato sauce off her cheek and continues – 'Jai has this stupid sense of humour sometimes, and he told me he thought the photos would be funny.'

As if!
I heard Jai on the radio saying I hated his guts. 'Crap pictures of Elly' – that's what he said. I take a mouthful of water to soothe my scorched mouth and, again, just nod as Bianca goes on.

'I thought you'd think they were funny too. I see now I got that wrong. Part of him wanted to get back at Will after they had that fight. You know that the footy heads and the surfie boys have this full-on war going at school. But they should leave us girls out of it. I told him our friendship means a lot to me. And it does . . . truly.'

She's saying all this really seriously and tearing her serviette into little pieces with her black fingernails.

'Hey, you can get a pizza any time! Right? But best friends are hard to find. So the pics are gone now and . . . I'm sorry. I never wanted us to be enemies . . . Even if you did lose that photo of me with Hugh Jackman.'

Bianca reaches a hand across the table and I squeeze it. I'm guilty of a criminal act. As I've already admitted, losing that photo is unforgivable.

What would Sun Tzu do right now? I'm sort of
subtle
,
secretive
and
inaudible
, but only because I can't think of anything to say. When I think of what Tilly has in store for Jai tonight, I feel sick.

'I love Jai so much,' says Bianca, as she stirs a melting pink marshmallow into her hot chocolate. 'He really is kind underneath. You should see the cards he writes me! He tells me how much he loves me every minute of every day.'

I stare down into the basket of chips, noticing every tiny grain of salt. Will has never told me he loves me. He's never written a card to me. I can't believe it. I'm jealous of Bianca and Jai! But then I remember that Tilly says Georgie Daniels told her Jai's always trying to sleaze onto Lily Cameron. It would break Bianca's heart if she knew what a gutter rat he was. I decide to keep this fact to myself.

'I know that Jai and Will don't like each other,' says Bianca, honking again into a teensy scrap of serviette. 'But they're both so different. If we really try, maybe they'll be friends one day. I'd hate to think they ever came between us.'

I give Bianca's hand another squeeze and tell her that I feel the same. And right at this moment I really believe what I am saying. We should try to make the peace between our boyfriends. We're like Hillary and Condoleezza in the Middle East. Bianca smiles gratefully and looks up at me like an innocent guinea pig, not knowing that Tilly's about to drop a brick on her furry blonde head.

And then Bianca's phone rings and it's Jai. He's at the football! At least, I hope he is. If I had a phone right now I'd tell Tilly to call this whole thing off.

Bianca laughs and giggles. Jai's telling her the football score – Sovereigns 20, Regents 10 – so he really is at the game. Phew!

I'm watching a red rash creep up Bianca's neck and her eyes shining with happiness. She really is in love with that idiot. What can you say? Bianca pushes the plate of chips closer to me and I'm reminded of what Grandpa Pickering always reckons:
Every Jack has his Jill.

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