Paper Aeroplanes (17 page)

‘Seriously, what is your problem? You think a girl having a period is hysterical, do you? Well, do you know what I think? I think you are the worst kisser I’ve ever kissed. You lick teeth like a little lizard. If I had to choose between kissing you and being covered in Flo’s period, I’d take the period any day.’

All of his mates laugh. Samuel shifts uncomfortably. Flo gets up and stands behind me.

‘What are you, like, lesbians or something?’ he says, trying to look cool.

‘With boys like you around it’s a surprise we’re not all lesbians. And anyway, everyone at Tudor Falls thinks you’re gay,’ I say proudly. What’s a little white lie when you have a friend to protect?

As the lady who works in the cafe gets down onto her hands and knees to pick up all of the beach balls and postcards that Flo took with her when she fell, I shove three packets of Wotsits and a £5.99 picnic blanket under my coat.

‘I’m not gay,’ says Samuel to his friends.

‘You’re so gay,’ they repeat back to him.

I pull Flo outside.

Down on the beach we huddle into a dug-out section of the huge grey wall, wrap the blanket around us and open all of the crisps.

‘No one has ever stuck up for me like that before. Ever,’ says Flo with her hand inside a crisp packet.

‘Well, Samuel is a prick and you are my best friend. There is no way I’m letting a boy humiliate you like that. No way.’

‘Sally would have given him a round of applause,’ Flo says under her breath.

‘Yeah, well, like I have said a million times, Sally is an idiot. And as soon as you pluck up the courage to tell her about us then the sooner you can realise that friends are not supposed to treat each other that way.’ I stuff six Wotsits into my mouth so I don’t have to keep talking.

‘I’ve never trusted anyone the way I trust you,’ Flo says. ‘Well, apart from Dad, obviously. You act like you care about me as much as you care about yourself sometimes. I can’t get used to it.’

‘Well, it’s true.’ I want to tell her about Julian, but not now. This isn’t the right moment. We look out to sea as we eat our Wotsits.

‘Shall we be blood sisters?’ I say, our bodies huddled close under the blanket, our breath frozen.

‘Huh? You can’t just become someone’s sister. Well, not unless you marry their brother and if you ever do that I’d kill you,’ Flo laughs.

I try not to react.

‘No, blood sisters,’ I tell her. ‘I read it in a book once. Two best friends pricked the ends of their fingers and then pressed them together so their blood combined and that made them blood sisters. Then they made a promise to be best friends forever and there was no going back after that, they were bound.’

‘What will we cut our fingers with?’ she asks nervously.

I dig beneath my duffel coat and pull a safety pin from the hem of my school skirt. ‘This?’

Flo’s not convinced.

‘Come on,’ I say. ‘It won’t hurt. Much.’

I burn the end of the pin with my lighter.

‘What are you doing that for?’

‘I am sterilising it. It’ll stop us getting infections.’ I press the needle into the soft cushiony bit of my forefinger and a small dot of blood blobs out. It hurts, but not much. My finger is pretty numb from the cold. ‘OK, your turn.’

‘Renée, I don’t think I want to do this. What about AIDS?’ Flo says, looking very worried.

‘You think I have AIDS?’

‘Well, I don’t know. Do you know you haven’t got it?’

‘Flo, only gay people get AIDS,’ I say, unsure of whether that is true or not.

‘No, anyone can get it. There was a girl in Guernsey last year who was caught dripping her blood into all the men’s pints in a pub. Someone caught her and it turned out she had AIDS and was getting back at men. Anyone who has sex can have AIDS.’

I suck my finger. I vaguely remember that story.

‘Well, I’ve never had sex, and I’m pretty sure you can’t get it from blow jobs.’ I feel disappointed. Not just because I’m sitting here in the freezing cold with a hole in my finger, but because Flo thinks I might have AIDS.

‘Don’t be offended, Renée. I just don’t think sharing blood is a good idea these days. Can we be spit sisters instead?’ She puts her arms around me and presses her face up towards mine. ‘Come on. Let’s do it. Spit sisters.’ She spits on her finger and holds it in front of me. ‘Come on. Same thing, just spit. It’s still from inside us.’

I reluctantly spit on the index finger that isn’t bleeding and hold it up to hers. We press them together and close our eyes.

‘I promise to be honest, and kind, and never to let you down,’ says Flo, her finger pressing hard on mine.

‘I promise to look after you, and stick up for you and not let anybody laugh at you,’ I say, opening my eyes a little to check she has hers shut.

‘I promise to be honest,’ she says.

‘I promise to be honest,’ I repeat.

I wonder why I suggested such a pact, when I know that I’ve already blown it.

The best thing about sitting our mock exams is that in between them we have free periods where we can study whatever we need to study. Some people stay in Room Six, some go into the dining room, but Renée and I sneak into the library whenever we can because we can hide in one of the little alcoves and be together.

‘What are you doing? You’re not supposed to write in the books!’

‘I am not writing in it. I am circling letters to make a code,’ she says, defensively.

‘What code?’

‘Well, it isn’t really a code. I’m circling the letters to spell swear words. Look.’

She turns the copy of
Great Expectations
towards me.

We (a)te the whole of the toast, and d(r)ank tea in preparation, and it is delightful to (s)(e)e (h)(o)w warm and greasy we al(l) get after it.

‘See?
Arsehole
. Well, nearly. That sentence is missing an e for the end. Bummer. Ha ha. “Bummer”, didn’t mean to do that.’ She laughs.

‘Renée, do you ever do any actual work?’ I say, genuinely worried about her.

‘These are just the mocks. I’ll do some before our proper GCSEs, obviously.’

‘You’d better. You need at least five to stay at Tudor Falls. If you get under five you have to either get a job or go to the grammar school. You can’t stay here if you don’t do well enough. Doesn’t that worry you?’ I say.

‘Of course it worries me. I’m not stupid. I’ve listened in class, I know the basics, and anyway, no one ever gets less than five. You have to really mess up to get less than five. I’ll be fine.’

She takes
Great Expectations
back and starts circling letters again.

‘
Boobies
. Ha ha, brilliant!’

I can’t not laugh.

‘So, I was thinking maybe I could come over after school one day this week?’ Renée says. ‘I haven’t seen Abi in ages and I miss your chocolate spread sandwiches. Nana doesn’t buy stuff like that.’

‘Really? You want to come to my house? I spend my life wanting to get out of it. Why don’t we go to yours?’ I suggest, realising that I have never actually been there.

‘Trust me, you don’t want to come to mine. It’s just so cold out and my uniform never dries properly by the morning because Pop is so tight with the central heating. At least it’s warm at yours, and I can come on a day when your mum is out.’ She closes
Great Expectations
and crosses her arms. Is she really that desperate for a Nutella sandwich?

‘OK, fine. Come to my house. If you come Friday then Mum and Fred won’t be there.’

‘Cool, I’ll go home first to get changed and meet you there,’ she says, opening up the book again and circling more letters.

I’m not sure why she thinks she needs to go home first, but before I get the chance to question it, the library fills with the sound of Sally’s voice.

‘Shit, shit shit shit shit shit,’ I say as I duck down.

‘NO, get out from under the table,’ barks Renée, firmly. ‘Lets face up to her now. Get out from under there.’

‘Renée, I can’t. Shit shit shit, I can’t.’

‘Well, if she sees you I’m telling her about us. And just so you know, your bum is sticking out and she is –’

‘Flo, what are you doing under that table?’ It’s Sally.

I crawl out. Climbing up the chair like a child making its way to the naughty step.

‘Why are you in here? With her?’ Sally’s face is red and veiny.

Renée sits up straight and crosses her arms. Her face looks proud as punch. She’s been looking forward to this moment. ‘We came in here to do revision together. Do you have a problem with that?’ she says.

Come on, Flo. Be tough, be strong.

‘Yes, of course I have a problem with that.’ Sally looks at me. ‘Renée Sargent is a twat and I don’t want you hanging round with her. So why are you in here with her?’

‘You’re the twat, Sally,’ blurts Renée, determined to win this battle.

‘Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Silence in the library,’ echoes Miss Le Hurray’s voice. If this is going to happen, it is going to have to happen quietly.

‘Sally,’ says Renée, ‘Flo is allowed to talk to whoever she wants, you know that, don’t you? You don’t own her.’

I am now sitting rigidly on the chair. My eyes may well be shut, I can’t be sure. I prepare myself for flying pencil cases and equally as dangerous words.

‘So, wait, are you guys friends now or something? Is that why you’ve been so full of yourself lately, Flo? Don’t make me laugh. Flo, come with me. We need to revise French. You can stay with Renée if you like but you will fail everything and get a reputation for being a slut.’

‘Don’t go with her, Flo,’ says Renée. ‘Stay here. We have science prep to do.’

‘I’ll do the science prep with you, Flo. I am the set above you so I know all your stuff off by heart. Get your stuff together and come with me now.’

‘No, Flo. Stay here. You don’t have to do what she says,’ says Renée firmly.

‘Come.’

‘Stay.’

‘Come.’

‘Stay.’

‘OH, SHUT UP. SHUT UP, both of you. You’re arguing over me like I’m a dog.’

‘SILENCE IN THE LIBRARY! Who is that making that racket?’ Miss Le Hurray appears like a little gremlin dressed in brown tweed. ‘Renée Sargent, I should have known it would be you, but Sally and Florence, I thought better of you. Will anyone care to tell me what all this noise is about?’

‘Nothing, miss. Flo is just saying how hard she has found science this year. I am about to take her off for an intense lesson so I can help her with the exam tomorrow,’ says Sally in her best lick-arse voice.

‘Well, that is very generous of you, Sally. I’m sure Flo is very grateful. Gather your things together and go with Sally, Flo. Revision is very important for you all this year.’

Renée is silenced. Sally looks like the cat that got the cream. ‘Come on, now!’

She storms to the door and waits.

‘You’re not going to go, are you?’ asks Renée.

‘But she is so mad. If I don’t go she’ll –’

Renée exhales loudly, throws down her pen and sits back. ‘This is the moment we’ve been waiting for, Flo. She knows. Just leave her to go off in her strop, stay here with me.’

‘I’m sorry. I can’t.’ I gather my things and meet Sally at the door.

‘I told you before, if you become friends with Renée Sargent I’ll make your life hell,’ Sally growls.

‘We were just doing some science revision. She isn’t my
friend
,’ I say, hating myself for lying.

‘Good. Let’s keep it that way. Now hurry up. I have to tell you about about Phil. I think it might get serious.’

Later, at lunchtime, I go looking for Renée. I see Margaret duck into the toilets and presume they are up to no good again so follow her in. ‘Margaret, have you seen Renée?’

She nods her head to the left, gesturing at a toilet cubicle. I push it open and see Renée on her knees stretching a roll of cling film over the toilet bowl.

‘Hey, I just wanted to say sorry about earlier. I feel awful and I . . .’ I realise what she is doing. ‘This was you guys too?’

I have just caught her in the act of the most annoying prank ever to be played at Tudor Falls. Unless you know it’s there it is impossible to see the cling film when you sit on the toilet, so when you wee it sprays up and goes everywhere. I have been caught out by this twice. Of course it was the work of Renée and Margaret. Who else would find that funny?

‘I just wanted to find you to say sorry,’ I said again. ‘I chickened out again and I feel really bad.’

She ignores me for a minute or two while she smooths out the cling film. When it’s completely invisible she stands up and faces me. ‘Any chance you could guide Sally this way? This one is for her.’

‘I don’t blame you for being annoyed. I will tell her. I will. It just has to be the right moment. You will still come to my house Friday, won’t you?’

I expect to have to grovel more, but her face lights up when I ask about Friday. That apology was easier than I thought.

I’ve been sitting in the school hall for forty-five minutes staring at the page. Have we really learned this stuff in science class? Why don’t I recognise any of it? The clock is moving so slowly. Everyone else around me is writing answers at a hundred miles an hour. I can’t focus, and even if I could I don’t know the answers. Daydreaming is my only option. In an hour and a half I will be at Flo’s house. Hopefully Julian will be there. I’ll have the white jeans on and act really cool. Keen enough to let him know how I feel but aloof enough to not look desperate.

But I am desperate. I am sooooo desperate. I have never wanted anything as much as I want him. I tick a few multiple choice answers and then wait. I’ll revise before my real exam in a few months. This one really doesn’t matter.

The bell rings. I’m out the door before anyone else has even left their seats. I need to get changed.

At home I run up the stairs and into my bedroom. Nell is lying on her bed, so frail and white. Just like Mum in this exact room eight years ago.

‘Nell,’ I whisper, because I’m finding it hard to breathe at the sight of her. ‘Are you OK?’

‘I can’t do this any more, Renée. Living here, it’s wrong.’

I don’t want to do this now, I want to see Julian, but I sit next to her on her bed.