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Authors: Jenny Colgan

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BOOK: The Boy I Loved Before
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‘No choice? None at all?'
‘For insolence and truancy.'
‘Fine,' I said, raising my hands.
Miss Syzlack watched me, shaking her head. ‘What's got into you, Flora?'
‘Maybe I'm growing up,' I said.
 
 
I found the third class, thank God, and sat through a frankly baffling hour on community festivals, none of which I could hear or make any sense of. It was droned at us by a man I didn't recognise, and fortunately everyone else was staring just as much into space as I was. Finally, the bell rang, and it was – Jesus Christ – playtime.
I trailed out after Constanzia, who was still sitting next to me, my stomach hitting my stupid Spice Girl loafer shoes.
‘Well?' she said, those crazy eyebrows of hers beetling up and down. ‘You show them you are miserable, huh?'
‘What?'
‘Nobody comes to your birthday party – so fucking what, yes? But you plunk it without me?'
‘My birthday party?' I just asked stupidly.
Oh no. Surely not. What unearthly fucking world had put me back in the WORST PERIOD OF MY LIFE.
‘I just can't believe it,' said Constanzia, throwing her hands up. ‘It's like the worst betrayal of all time. We have bad party, you don't come to school. I think I'm going to hang myself, like all those kids who go to Cambridge when they're twelve.' She looked at me, black eyes twinkling, clearly trying to pretend she was having a joke, but feeling bad all the same.
‘Don't do that,' I said weakly.
‘You wanted me to die? Is that why you did it?'
‘No,' I said slowly.
‘Well, if you wanted me to die, that's exactly what you should have done. Take a day off without me, your best friend.'
‘You're not dead,' I said.
‘Oh yes?' she said. ‘You know when I am at school. What is it we say when we are not here?'
With a sinking feeling I started to think back to when it was me and Tash. If she wasn't there, I hated it, because I'd have to sit by myself in class, and vice versa. Fuck, fuck fuck. Why couldn't I have been a cool kid this time round? Was that really too much to ask? As well as being trapped in this hellhole with no way out in sight, I had to be a complete smeghead at the same time – not that any of the kids here
would even remember the term ‘smeghead', although I'm sure they had something equally pleasant.
‘I'm sorry,' I said.
‘I could have been dead. I was Dead Constanzia Walking.'
‘Sorry.'
‘I had lunch sitting in the stairwell. And for what? So you could go and become a drunk person in the West End. I am very happy for you.'
‘It's a bit more complicated than that,' I said.
‘Oh sure.' Constanzia kicked heavily at a piece of filthy, mud-encrusted grass, as we circled the grounds. Younger boys were running around and playing football, younger girls were touching each other's hair and whispering. So much for an extra sixteen years of gender studies.
‘Oh, look, the gruesome twosome reunited, innit?' came a low, drawling voice. For some daft reason, though it wasn't posh, male or growly, it reminded me of Shere Khan in the film
Jungle Book.
We turned round. It was Fallon, and two acolytes, one blonde, one brunette.
‘Don't tell me – you were on your way to school and you got picked up by the animal pound,' said Fallon, looking straight at me. ‘Your parents were going to let you get put down and then changed their minds at the last minute.'
Why couldn't I have been popular this time round? This wasn't in my plan. In fact, of course, in my plan, such as it should have been, I was on the way to Paris by now, surrounded by people who wanted to make me their muse.
Instead I had some witch trying to make my life hell. The first time round it had been Sheena. She'd ended up working
on a supermarket counter, getting pregnant to a succession of guys then dropping off the radar all together. That was meant to happen to the bad girls.
But Fallon didn't look like Sheena. Sheena always looked vaguely fashionable, but it was always the cheap, Netto end. She didn't always smell fantastic and there were rumours of a horrible home life, which, in retrospect I'm sure were true. My mother was right: she did deserve sympathy more than fear, not that I could find it in me at the time.
Fallon was dressed more expensively than I did as a grown-up. You can always tell, can't you? You don't always care, but you can always tell. I was sensing Nicole Farhi, Ralph Lauren, all just for the very plain components that make up a school uniform. Her hair was glossy and carefully dried. This wasn't skeggy little schemie bully. This was big-time cheerleader style. Well, she wasn't going to intimidate me, jumped-up little brat. I'd let this happen to me too many times as a child and it wasn't going to bother me now. I swallowed my fear.
‘Fuck off, boring person,' I said.
‘Ooh!' went her almost as well-groomed acolytes.
‘What's that? Are you telling me to – what?' said Fallon in seeming disbelief.
‘Let's go. I'm very bored here,' I said to Constanzia.
‘Oh, the little swot's bored?' Fallon's eyes were flashing.
‘What's the matter? Not enough swotting around for you? Or – don't tell me – there are too many people talking. Makes you feel like you've got friends. Good party by the way?'
‘I've got friends,' I said, shocked despite myself.
‘I can't believe you invited us!'
I didn't. Mind you, I'd invited Sheena the first time round. For fuck's sake.
They giggled loudly.
‘Anyway, it's party season – you must be going to Ethan's party tomorrow? After all, you invited him.'
She said this to Constanzia. Constanzia shook her head.
‘Really? What a shame. Of course it would be too boring for you – they've got a swimming pool. And a wine cellar. Everyone else in the class has been invited. Never mind, you two.'
I couldn't believe this. I was feeling terrible about the fact that I wasn't invited to a party by someone I didn't know. Who cared?
‘Just the two of you staying at home then? On your own? No, that'll be much more fun. Much less boring.'
And they strode off.
‘Christ. Has she always been like that?'
Constanzia looked at me. ‘Erm, remember when you got that scar?'
Sure enough, looking down on my arm I saw a scar that I hadn't noticed before.
‘She pushed you off the climbing frame.'
‘Witch.'
‘Head witch,' Constanzia agreed. ‘And you know, yesterday, you leave me to face the witch all alone. You do this if you want a friend dead, yes? There, see – go into the gingerbread house by yourself, stupid child.'
‘I'm sorry,' I said.
‘Buy me a Twix,' she said.
‘No!'
‘I'll share it.'
God, it'd been a long time since I'd eaten a Twix. Chunky Kit Kats are a much more adult snack, I believe.
‘All right,' I said.
 
 
‘Why are we so unpopular, Stanzi?' I said, as we sat on the wall and licked toffee off our fingers. For a second I forgot I was thirty-two, that I had a mortgage and a near-fiancé and had been chairman of our university leaving ball committee. I was just at school, sitting on the same wall near the science lab I always used to sit on, staring at the same sad windows and dripping brickwork, tasting chocolate and caramel on my tongue and utterly absorbed in the universe that was school.
Constanzia stared at the floor and ate her last piece of Twix. ‘Because you're a swot and I'm the smallest minority in the whole school, remember? And I used to have a moustache. And you never have any tits.'
I looked at her. True, she did have a very heavy line of yellow hair on her top lip.
‘And they just decide they didn't like us and that was that. Anyway, why is this worrying you now? It's always been like this.'
I swung my feet. ‘I don't know. I'm just getting sick of the whole thing.'
‘Don't worry. Just hold on for two years and we can go to college. Yay! Hooray! Sex and boys all night long.'
‘You'll be surprised how quickly that gets old,' I said, and then did a double take. ‘Two years?' What if I couldn't get out of here? No way was I staying two years.
‘Well, you have to. You leave now, it's all over for you.
“Big Issue?”'
‘Look, I'm not going to leave school, OK?'
“‘Big Issue?”'
‘Stop that, it's not nice.'
The bell rang.
‘I can't remember a thing. With this new timetable, the school has deliberately set out to destroy me.' Constanzia pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.
I pounced. ‘Me neither. Let me see.'
‘Why are you looking at mine?'
‘Oh, yeah.'
‘Yesterday, when you having such a great time without your best friend, you fall down? You get hit on the head?'
‘Kind of.'
‘Your Italian
e schifo.'
‘Is that good?'
She smiled at me. ‘You have to go be maths idiot now, yes? Run along,
piccolo rana.'
 
 
I'd managed to raise Tashy on the telephone, sneaking out at lunchtime and buying an incredibly expensive top-up card for my mobile.
‘It was all a dream?'
‘No.'
‘Oh God. I can't believe it … I just can't. Oh God, Flora. What the hell are we going to do?'
‘Look, look …' I almost laughed as I watched two boys in the middle distance have a fight. Everyone else immediately swarmed over and started screaming their heads off.
‘Oh God,' I said. ‘OK, I'm in hell.'
‘Really? Hell exists? Is this what this is?'
‘No, I mean. I'm back at school. On top of everything that's happened I'm back at school. It's like – after my terrible party.'
‘Oh,' said Tashy in a small voice. ‘So it's not any better this time round?'
For some reason, the kids watching the fight had started chanting the ‘c' word very loudly. Mr Rolf had come out of the main school building, but even he looked in two minds at approaching the roaring throng. I hoped nobody had a gun.
‘I wouldn't say that,' I said, and started to snivel.
‘No, no, don't cry!' said soft-hearted Tash, diving in. ‘I mean – you're in hell? Ha! I have six meetings double-booked for this afternoon, I can't get caterers to fold napkins into roses instead of swans – fucking swans – we have twenty-nine days to the wedding and you can still get into children's clothes and not pay any VAT on them. How can that be hell?'
‘School's SHIT!' I said.
‘Oh, petal, it must be easier this time round. Think of all the clever stuff you know.'
‘I'm the most unpopular girl in the school!'
‘No! Don't they still have those kids who have glasses stuck together with Elastoplast?'
‘Don't think so,' I sniffed. ‘And I have a suicidal mad best friend.'
‘What do you mean?'
‘My best friend. She's a bit …'
‘I'm your best friend.'
‘I know that,' I said slowly. ‘I mean, in this new world.'
‘Do you like her better than me?'
I cried harder.
‘I mean, I know I've been very busy with the wedding and everything, but—'
‘No no no no. Stop. Shut up. You're my best friend. This is just a weird creature who follows me about, OK?'
‘Is she pretty?'
‘She looks like a cat who has evil powers.'
‘Yeah?'
‘She has a voice like a fire in a pet shop.'
Tashy sounded less suspicious. ‘OK. Look, sit tight, and I'll come and get you tonight, OK? Can you hold on till then?'
‘I can't come out tonight.'
‘Why not?'
‘Tashy! I'm grounded. And I have detention.'
‘Well, duh. Don't be stupid. Skip it.'
BOOK: The Boy I Loved Before
5.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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