Not Pretty Enough (16 page)

CHAPTER 29

I can’t do this.

I sit through physics like I
have a Bunsen burner under my seat, and as soon as it’s over I rush down to the
biology lab to find Lloyd. Miss Raine has given me permission to use PSE – our
next lesson – to organise a team.

PSE is basically a free lesson.
It’s supposed to be Physical Social Education, but the only thing we ever do is
the occasional debate team. Other than that everyone uses it to play games on
their phones.

I wait outside the biology lab
and literally grab Lloyd as he walks out with Darren.

“I need to talk to you.” I shove
my permission slip towards him. “Please. I have permission to use the gym for
the next hour, and I have something to ask you.”

He reluctantly tells Darren to
go on without him and starts following me across the yard to the gym.

“This had better be important,
Chessie. I have some homework I could’ve done with catching up on in PSE.”

“This is better, trust me.”

We dump our bags in the changing
room, and I drag out a couple of mats for us to sit on in the empty gym. It’s
weird being in here when there aren’t thirty other kids chucking a ball at you.

“So?” Lloyd asks.

“I meant what I said before,” I
begin. “I want to do something for charity to make up for everything I did, and
the perfect opportunity has come up, but I need your help.”

“Go on.”

“There’s this big basketball
tournament up in Birmingham in three weeks, and Mr Sapsford has given me
permission to start up a basketball team and win the two thousand pound prize
and donate half to charity.”

Lloyd nods slowly. “Well, good
luck with that.”

He gets up to leave.

“No, wait,” I say. “I need your
help. I need you to be team captain and get all your mates to play.”

“Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Because I
don’t know a thing about basketball and you’re really good at it.”

“Why, because I’m tall?”

“No… Well, maybe, but you’re
really good at basketball. You score every goal when we play in the gym.”

“Basket.”

“Huh?”

“They’re not goals, they’re
baskets.”

“Oh, okay, baskets then. You
score every basket.”

“Where do you fit in all this?
You hate sports, if I remember correctly.”

“I’m the coach.”

“How can you be the coach if you
don’t know anything about basketball?”

“Well, I’ll be all motivational
and stuff and you can do the technical side like strategy and that.”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, come on, Lloyd. It’s a
thousand quid for the NSPCC. Or whatever charity you want. You did say that you
help with fundraising.”

“Yeah, but…”

“And we’d probably get to miss a
few maths lessons.”

“All right, I’m in,” he says,
suddenly smiling at me.

“Brilliant.” I resist the urge
to hug him.

“When are the first tryouts?”

I look at my watch. “How about
right now? We have three quarters of an hour left.”

“Okay then.” He jumps up. “You
go and round up your form, I’ll go and get mine.”

He grabs a permission slip and
goes to leave.

“Oh, and Chessie?”

“Yeah?”

“This is a really nice thing
you’re doing.”

I knew he’d be impressed.

Here’s the thing about basketball
– it’s a lot harder than it looks. Not that I’m actually playing it or anything
crazy like that. I’m just standing on the sidelines watching Lloyd, and feeling
like a bit of a spare part. He’s running it like some sort of military
operation, yelling at people left, right and centre. Yes if you can come back
for a second tryout during lunchtime. No if you are so bad that you should
never set foot inside a gym ever again. We don’t have time for this. I wish
he’d just get a group of boys together and teach them how to get the ball into
the net instead of all this time wasting.

Debs is lying on a mat, looking
worried about runaway balls aiming straight for her head, and designing flyers
for cheerleading tryouts that we’re holding in the gym tomorrow lunchtime. I
figure we need five cheerleaders in total, Debs is one and I’ll be a back up in
case one of them breaks a neck or something. So we only need four more girls.
Should be simple, right? Now I just have to put together a routine and teach
five girls to do a pyramid thing like they do in
Bring
It On
. Oh, and make sure Lloyd can make these boys into a winning team
in under three weeks time, when the only reason half of them have even come
here today is because they’ve heard the team will get a Monday off school the
weekend of the tournament.

The problem with cheerleading is
that I’ve watched every
Bring It On
movie over
and over again, and I still have no idea what to do. The good side is that
every girl in the school, and the occasional boy, wants to be a cheerleader.
When I say everybody, I mean even Leigh Marlow. I’m so surprised to see her in
the queue the following lunchtime that I nearly fall out of my seat. At first I
think that she’s here to play some kind of practical joke on me or try to
embarrass me some more, but no, it seems she’s here for the auditions like
everybody else.

It’s unbelievable how many girls
want to be cheerleaders. When we walk into the gym at lunchtime I think that
Miss Raine must have forgotten we were using it and given the space to some
other class. But no, eventually I establish that the queues of girls are here
to be cheerleaders. I can’t work out if it’s because they want to be like the
girls in the movies, or if it’s because they think it’ll make them popular, or
because it’s a good way to keep fit, or if it’s simply because they might
actually want to cheer our basketball team on. It’s a shame we only need four,
to be honest, but I don’t dare to try anything more complicated than that.
Maybe if this all goes well we could build up a huge cheerleading squad and
start working for the football and hockey teams as well.

Debs and I sit in the gym at
lunchtime and worry that we’re not going to get through all the people before
the hour is up. But I do know one thing. The highlight of my day is going to be
turning down Leigh Marlow. Nobody ever says no to Leigh Marlow. But we’re going
to. Okay, so it will probably make her hate me even more, but I don’t care.
Leigh probably thinks that it’s guaranteed she’s going to get on the cheerleading
squad, but she’s not.

After the first few girls have
tried out, our friend Ceri is in and Laurie from our class who is excellent at
sports and technology is in. Only two more to find and half an hour to go.

I hate to admit it, but when
Leigh and her friend try out, they’re actually pretty good. In fact, they’re
really good.

“Sorry, no,” I yell. “Next!”

“What did you say to me?” Leigh
asks, coming up close.

“I said, sorry Leigh, but you’re
not good enough to be on our team.”

It feels so good.

“I’m the best you’re ever going
to find here.”

“Maybe,” I admit. “But you’re
not good enough for me, and this is my team. I’ll take my chances with finding
someone nicer – oops – I mean better, obviously.”

“I don’t believe you have the
nerve.” She snorts. “I thought you of all people would know better by now. Just
you wait. I won’t forget this.”

“Elephants never do,” I mutter
as she stalks out of the gym.

Yes, I know I’ve probably just
made the whole situation with Leigh ten times worse, but it was worth it just to
see the look on her face when someone actually turned her down for something.
She would have made an excellent cheerleader, but being a team is about working
well together, and I’m fairly sure the only people who Leigh will ever work
well with are the ones who worship her, and that will never be us.

We eventually find two more
girls who can star jump and high kick like the best of them, Beth and Mel, from
10A. That’s our team – Debs, Ceri, Laurie, Beth and Melanie. With me as a
reserve.

You know, I think we can do
this.

CHAPTER 30

December.

“Will you sign this form for me?” I ask mum while she’s
making dinner one night a couple of weeks later.

“Why? What is it?”

“I need your signature for permission
to go to the basketball championship in Birmingham on Friday. I told you about
it three weeks ago.”

“Oh right, that.”

“Yes, that. Here you go.” I hand
her a pen and hold the paper out.

“Sorry, Chessie. You’re still
grounded.”

“What do you mean
I’m still grounded
? I know I’m grounded, but I have to
go to this thing in Birmingham, I’m the team coach. It’s not like it’s a fun
activity, it’s a school thing.”

“I phoned the school this
afternoon and I had a nice little chat with Miss Raine, and she assured me that
she and Mr Hursh will be accompanying the team and they are both perfectly
accomplished coaches and that, as it turns out, Chessie, you’re not really
needed. You can stay home and help me clean out the garage this weekend. After
that, I might think about letting you go out again.”

“Are you saying I can’t go?” I
ask, a lump springing to my throat.

“That’s exactly what I’m
saying.”

“But you can’t… I can’t… I
have
to go. I’m supposed to be sitting next to Llo—
Debs,” I amend myself quickly.

“I’m sure Debs will manage to
find someone else to sit next to.”

“I have to go,” I say again.
“I’m the reserve cheerleader. If someone falls or anything they need me to
stand in.”

“Miss Raine assured me that it’s
a very safe routine, and that even if one of them did need replacing, it
doesn’t really matter whether there are five or four anyway.”

“Of course it matters. You can’t
do this to me. I told you about it weeks ago and you said I could go.”

“I said I’d think about it.”

“That’s the same thing.”

“It’s not, Chess.”

“It’s for a good cause,” I say
helplessly. “It’s all for charity. Did Miss Raine tell you that if we win we’ll
be donating a thousand pounds to help abused children? Did she tell you it was
all my idea and we wouldn’t even be going if it wasn’t for me?”

“Yes, she told me. She also told
me that they’ll win with or without you.”

Talk about way to make a girl
feel special. It’s like the whole world is out to scupper any chance I may have
with Lloyd Layton ever again.

“You can’t do this to me.”

“Do you think it’s okay to go
around telling people that your stepfather – who doesn’t exist, by the way – is
beating you up? What about what you did to me? What about the fact that I had
the police and your headmaster all here thinking I was a child beater?”

“I know it wasn’t okay, and I’m
sorry,” I say. “I’m
trying
to make up for it.
But you don’t need to take it out on the basketball team and the charities that
will ultimately benefit. Punish me when I get back, by all means. I’ll help you
clean out the garage next weekend. I’ll do it after school in the week. Please
just let me go to this one thing. I promise I’ll stay grounded until Christmas
if you just let me go this weekend.”

“The answer is no, Chessie. The
team will be fine without you.”

“But I’m the motivator. I’m the
coach.”

“I’m sure two thousand pounds
can motivate anyone without your help.”

“But that’s… You can’t do this
to me.” I know I’m whining but I can’t seem to stop myself. “I’ve been looking
forward to this for weeks. Do you know how hard I’ve been working? We’ve been
in that gym every morning before lessons and for an hour during lunchtime every
single day. We’ve even been eating our lunch while running or cheering. You
can’t just let all that go to waste.”

“It’s not going to waste. I’m sure
you’ve helped the others, and if you start behaving yourself then maybe you can
go next year.”

“Next
year
?
But it isn’t even happening next year.”

“That’s not my problem,
Chessie.”

“But, I—”

“You should have thought about
it before you landed your mother with a criminal record.”

“But I didn’t even know about it
then.” I’m perilously close to tears now. There has to be a way I can talk her
round. There just
has
to.

“That’s not an excuse.”

“I’ll go anyway.” I suddenly
feel defiant. “If you won’t sign then I’m going to fake your signature and go
anyway.”

“In that case I’ll phone Mr
Sapsford right now and tell him that you are categorically not allowed to go on
this trip, and that if you present him with a signed form, it is faked.”

Crap. Why’d I have to open my
big mouth?

“I’ll find a way,” I say. “You
can’t keep me here. That really is child abuse.”

“Ever heard of double jeopardy,
Chessie? You can’t be accused of the same crime twice.”

“Why are you so intent on
ruining my life?” I yell.

“If missing one weekend trip
with the school is going to ruin your life then maybe we should look into
getting you some therapy.”

“You’re the one who needs
therapy!” I’m really shouting now. “You don’t ever want me to get a boyfriend,
you just want me to stay here forever and be your little garage cleaning girl,
but I won’t. I’ll never clean out the damn garage for you now.”

“Well, I hope they don’t have
any more school trips for you to miss anytime soon, because if you’re going to
be like that about it then you won’t be going on the next one either.”

“Arrrrrrgh!” I storm out and
slam the door hard behind me. The pictures rattle on the wall and I wish they’d
fall down and break.

Why is she doing this to me? I
hate her, I hate my life, and I hate the fact that I’m not stunningly beautiful
or beautifully smart. I wish Lloyd Layton would look at me just once and not be
repulsed. I wish I could get him to talk to me and not leave with a look of
utter revulsion on his face.

I wanted to go to Birmingham
with him, and I wanted us to win, and I wanted him to thank me and realise that
I am sorry for lying to him, and more than anything, I want him to kiss me.

She can’t do this to me.

She can, as it turns out. Quite
easily, actually. I’ve spent the weekend in my bedroom, on a hunger strike in
protest, and my mother has completely ignored the fact that her daughter might
be withering away to nothing while she stuffs her face downstairs. Okay, so
withering away is putting it a bit dramatically. In fact, I haven’t lost so
much as a pound. Stupid metabolism.

 “Hey,” Debs says as we
walk to the bus stop on Tuesday morning. The basketball team were still
travelling back yesterday so they missed a day of school. “Did your mum give
you the message?”

“No. What message?”

“I called last night,” she says.
“To give you the news.”

“Oh yeah. Sorry, I didn’t feel
like coming to the phone.”

“That’s okay.”

“What news?”

“We won.”

“You did? That’s… um…
fantastic,” I say quietly. To be honest, I can’t really get myself excited
about it anymore. How can you be happy about something you were supposed to be
at the centre of and now aren’t involved in at all?

“I wish you could have come,”
Debs says. “It was so great. We sneaked into the boys room in the middle of the
night and ordered loads of room service and had a slumber party. You would have
enjoyed it so much. Lloyd was even there with his shirt off. He was in a really
good mood and was dancing and everything. He even danced with me.”

Great. If I cry now I’m going to
have a red blotchy face by the time we get to school.

“Oh. Sorry,” Debs says when she
notices the look on my face. “I mean, it was horrible, obviously. No fun at
all. You didn’t miss anything.”

“Nice try.” I swallow hard.

“We missed you. Lloyd said that
you should have been there.”

“I’m sure he did,” I say
sarcastically.

“No, he really did, Chess. His
exact words were, ‘this whole thing was Chessie’s idea, it seems wrong that
they didn’t let her come too.’”

“Thanks, Debs, but I’m not a
complete idiot. I’m surprised Lloyd even remembers my name.”

“It’s true,” she says. “You
should ask him.”

“I think you were right before,”
I say as we reach the bus stop. “I’ve wasted enough energy on this. It’s time
to leave Lloyd Layton alone for good.”

“You’re giving up? That’s not
like you.”

I shrug. “Debs, I’ve spent an
entire year trying to get this boy to like me, and it hasn’t worked yet. Maybe
it just wasn’t meant to be. It shouldn’t be this hard to get a boyfriend, even
when you’re as ugly as I am. I’m going to forget about him, concentrate on my
work for a change, see if I can get some A+ marks instead of Bs and Cs.”

“You’re not ugly,” she says.
“And you’re smart enough to be in Set One for everything.”

“Yeah, but that’s because I got
sixty or sixty one percent on my exams, not because I’m good at the subject.
Not because I’m like Ewan who is in Set One because he got ninety-something
percent on his exams and an A+ for
every
single
piece of work in his books. I’m not good enough to be in Set One for most of my
subjects, so I need to either work harder or go through the embarrassment of
being dropped a set, and don’t you think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one
year?”

Debs laughs. “It hasn’t been
that bad.”

“No, between dyeing my hair
green, stabbing Lloyd with a javelin, and getting him to think I was being
abused, I think it’s gone rather well.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.
You’re a great girl. Lloyd would be lucky if he deserved you.”

“Thanks for the vote of
confidence,” I say. “You’re a great friend, but maybe we should concentrate on
finding you a boyfriend instead.”

“Oh no. You know I have my eyes
on one boy only, and he’d never go for me.”

“You don’t know that. He’s
always hanging around with us. He must like you.”

“He hangs around with us because
we’re all friends and sometimes his mates go to play scary, energetic sports
and you know how much he hates them.”

“It’s not just because of that.”

She laughs. “Come on, Chess.
Ewan doesn’t look at me like that and you know it.”

“Well, I’m giving up on Lloyd Layton.
Maybe it’s time for me to pass the torch onto you. I failed at my mission, now
it’s your turn. I have some spare hair dye you can have if you want.”

She laughs.

Maybe my new mission should be
to help Debs with her boy problem. She’s put up with enough stuff about Lloyd
from me this year.

By the time we get to school the
entire student body is buzzing about the basketball win. There are notices
pinned everywhere saying that there is a special lunch today in the main hall,
for all those involved in the basketball team so the principal can present the
cheque to a representative of the charity.

“You should come,” Debs says.
“You were involved even if you didn’t make it to the game.”

“No,” I say. “That’s for you
lot, not me. Besides, I don’t want my nose rubbed in it. I don’t want to know
how much fun you all had without me.”

“Come to the lunch, Chess. I
hear there’ll be a big cake. You like cake.”

“No,” I say. “I’ll start as I
mean to go on. I’ll eat my lunch and do some homework early.”

“Suit yourself,” she says. “But
nobody will mind you being there. Even Sapsford knows the whole thing was your
idea.”

“It’s okay. I just want to
forget about it and get on with the rest of term.”