The Parent Problem (11 page)

Still, thanks to the VTs, all my ‘material’ has been taken already and TURNED INTO VIDEO CLIPS! Finn said he had seen a video of the Pants Incident posted online already. Of course! I have just realized: they weren’t
texting
while I was holding on to my clothes and trying to make a break for it. They had just filmed me and were posting the clip to YouTube!

Oh my life. I am so stupid. I am never going to be able to walk the streets in the hours of daylight ever again.

Once in the loos, I tried in vain to wash the custard off my clothes by splashing water from the basin at myself and rubbing my shirt with handfuls of paper towels. I put my head under the taps to rinse my hair and then stuck my head under the hand dryer. I heard some familiar cackling headed my way, though, so I had to give up and dive into a cubicle. There was no chance I was going to allow myself to be cornered by the VTs in there. They would probably grab me and flush my head in a loo or something. And film it too. That is how stylish and unoriginal they are with their bullying techniques.

I put the loo seat down and sat on it and drew my feet up and hugged my knees close: I wasn’t taking any chances. I didn’t want them to spot my feet. I kept my breathing as shallow as possible and listened.

What I heard did not make me feel any better about life. In fact, it made me feel significantly worse.

Livvy (or Izzy) was giggling and saying, ‘That was soooo epic! I already had one hundred and nine likes for the Knickers In A Twist video and now we’ve got two hundred and three for the Custard Catastrophe! Skye-Blue-Pink-Face really is a goofball.’

‘Yeah,’ said Izzy (or Livvy), ‘but remember she is the only one who knows Finn Parker. I think Aubrey’s right, we should be being nice to her if we want to hang out with Finn. He’s never going to talk to us Year 8s unless we get Skye to introduce us.’

‘Right. Cos that has sooo worked for Aubrey,’ said Livvy (or – whatever – I can’t tell them apart when I can’t see them). ‘Aubrey said she was going to get to meet Finn when we saw her yesterday in town, remember? She said that the next time Skye’s mum does
ballroom dancing
–’ at this point she broke off to indulge in some more insane giggling – ‘BALLROOM DANCING! Anyway . . . the next time she did that, Finn was going to be round at Skye’s, and Aubrey was going to go round too.’

‘Hmm,’ said Izzy. ‘We should go and find Aubrey right now, don’t you think?’

Then there was a dramatic gasp. ‘Look!’ said Livvy, and clearly gestured at something. ‘That has given me the BEST IDEA!’ she squealed. ‘What do you think?’

My stomach had fallen through the floor. I could hardly make sense of what I had overheard: ‘. . .
yesterday in town . . . she said Skye’s mum does ballroom dancing
.’ I held my breath as they left the girls’ loos, giggling and plotting.

I stayed in the cubicle until the bell rang and then waited until the last possible moment to slink back into class. I sat at the back while Mr Needham droned on and on about electricity.

I spent the whole lesson trying to work out what was going on. The VTs said they had seen Aubrey ‘yesterday in town’. Did this mean she hadn’t been to the dentist at all? Or did she just bump into the VTs? But what about that text saying ‘Had a gr8 time this afternoon’? She behaved really awkwardly when I asked her about it. What if she had meant to send it to one of the VTs instead of me?

She must have seen them because they said Aubrey had told them about Mum’s ballroom-dancing craze.

So this means that my best friend has been lying to me. I bet she didn’t even go to the dentist at all: I bet she was in town, hanging out with the VTs all along. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I realize she has been going behind my back for a while. First she goes to the disco without me, then there’s some story about the cinema, and now this.

It is suddenly all very clear: Aubrey does not want my friendship any more.

Unless she gets something out of it: i.e. Finn.

What am I going to do? My life well and truly sucks.

Feels like the only ‘person’ I can trust is my journal, so I am in my room, writing again.

The last couple of days have been like this: get up and bolt breakfast so that I can hassle Mum to take me and Finn into school early. Get there before the VTs so that I don’t have to face them or any of their sidekicks seeing Mum in whatever unearthly creation she has decided to wear that morning. Hang out in the library until the last possible moment before class so that I can avoid speaking to Aubrey.

I should probably stand up to Aubrey and tell her I know that she has been lying to me. I should also tell her that I am never going to introduce her to Finn. But if I do either of those things then I will definitely lose her for good. But then if I DO introduce her to Finn I will lose her too. Maybe I should face the fact that I have lost her anyway. Do I even want to be friends with someone who can be so two-faced?

That’s the thing, though. Of course I do. It’s Aubrey.

I am so confused. I think the best thing for me to do is to bury my head in a book. So far this term I have already read three Lemony Snickets, two John Greens and a Cathy Cassidy. Bit of a mixture (and all quite sad books too) but I don’t really care. I just need to go somewhere in my head that is not Real Life. Maybe I should reread the Cathy Cassidys. She is really good on friendships and heartbreak. I might pick up some tips on how to get myself out of this mess.

I don’t know. I think maybe I prefer not to think about it any more just at the moment.

At least at school I have been able to hide at break and lunch. Mrs Ball has been great and given me loads of library duties to do, so it has been easy to come up with reasons as to why I need to be in the library.

I have been in survival-mode, keeping well below the parapet, ducking to avoid any VT-shaped pieces of shrapnel that might come my way. I seem to have done OK so far. Thank goodness it is Friday so I only have to survive one more day before I can go into full-hermit-mode over the weekend.

Here goes: time to leave my writer’s turret and brave the reality of the Big Bad World . . .

I head straight for the library. I don’t even want to talk to Aubrey at registration at the moment. Maybe I could find a quiet corner and do some more writing. Just some notes on scrap paper: I haven’t brought my journal to school. I am not that stupid. Imagine what the VTs would say if they found it? Imagine what they would do with it? It literally makes me shudder to think.

I am feeling on a roll with my writing at the moment, though. Or ‘In the Zone’ as I think writers say.

I might just check the display board first. I have been helping Mrs Ball over the past two days, decorating the board to promote the Alex Rider series. Maybe I could add a few finishing touches. I am pretty pleased with how it is shaping up, actually . . .

WHAT?

I am staring at the board, blinking and shaking my head in case I am imagining it, but no, this is no hallucination. There, right in front of my eyes, slap bang in the middle of all my hard work, is a poster. It is screaming at me in large, red and black letters:

Electric Warthogs introduce their new drummer: FINN PARKER!

Under the words, in glorious technicolour, blown up to magnify the cheesiness of his pleased-with-himself grin, is a photo of the boy who has come between me and my best friend.

It seems I have been so busy playing at being invisible that, clearly, I have not noticed what has been going on right under my nose . . .

I go cold. This is exactly the kind of disastrous scenario I was worried about: Finn becoming some kind of school hero, which is basically what getting into a band seems to do to people. (I think of the way Aubrey has started flapping her hands and hyperventilating any time anyone mentions Going Nowhere Fast – the band that has ironically been at number one for months.)

Oh no. Thinking of Aubrey like this has reminded me of something. I replay some of the things Aubrey has said: she was really excited when she found out that Finn plays the drums . . . She even mentioned that he might get into the school band . . . Did
she
put him up to this while I was hiding away in the library? Have they already hooked up? I should have done something, said something, anything to stop this happening!

I am stopped in mid-panicky-thought by the sound of footsteps skittering down the corridor behind me accompanied by chattering and high-pitched laughter.

I turn my head slowly to look through my fringe, but I already know who it is.

Voldemort and Voldemort. With my ex-best friend Aubrey, scurrying in their wake like a sugar-crazed weasel. The twins are arm in arm, almost skipping as they chatter. Aubrey is trotting behind, her head bobbing up every so often as she tries to keep up with them.

As they get closer I hear Izzy (or Livvy – I can’t tell the difference at a distance) saying, ‘. . . so
cool
if the band said yes. D’you reckon we could be backing singers?’

‘Yeah,’ simpers Aubrey. ‘It would be awesome to all be in the band together.’

‘No!’ I say, without thinking.

The twins stop in their tracks. As one, they face me, their arms still linked. They narrow their eyes and prepare to deliver one of their killer blows, like an alien creature with two identical heads.

Why did I speak?

I make a belated attempt to hide, ducking down behind a life-size cardboard cut-out of Alex Rider that Mrs Ball has put next to the display I was working on. I forget how flimsy it is and it wobbles as I catch the edge of it with my hand. I lunge forward to stop it falling, but I am too late. It topples towards the VTs and I end up on top of it, at their feet. My arms are wrapped around Alex Rider, my hair is all over my face and my skirt is rising dangerously up the back of my legs. At least Mum has sewn the button back on. I fling my hand back and tug it to stop it riding up any more.

‘Oooh, look at that,’ sneers Izzy, whipping her phone out. ‘Skye is snogging Alex Rider. No need to throw yourself at him, Skye.’

Livvy cackles. ‘Bit of a
two-dimensional
boyfriend, don’t you think? But then, that’s probably the only kind of boyfriend Skye-FALL will ever get her hands on.’

Aubrey laughs.

I push the cardboard figure off and get up, adjusting my clothes. I cannot bear to see Aubrey enjoying this. I square up to her.

‘What are you doing, staring at me like that?’ I snap.

‘Nothing,’ she says. ‘Are you OK?’ she adds, biting her bottom lip.

‘As if you care!’ I say.

Aubrey’s face drains of colour and she turns away from me. She flicks her hair back, juts her chin in the air and says to the VTs, ‘So: shall I see if Finn thinks the band could use us? I was talking to him yesterday. I’m sure I can get him to ask the rest of the band.’

I have to stop myself from gasping and shouting, ‘TRAITOR!’

The twins visibly perk up at Aubrey’s suggestion and immediately stop fiddling with their phones. It’s like they have had a complete personality change, making room for Aubrey, moving to either side of her, cosying up, taking her arms in theirs.

I can’t believe this. We have always hated the VTs. We have spent as long as I can remember (since Reception, pretty much) avoiding them and their mean tricks, fantasizing about how we could get our own back on them.

Why is she trying to get in with them now? What have I done to deserve this?

Aubrey raises one eyebrow at me and gives me a smile as if to say, ‘Get me and my new best friends.’

I swallow hard. I have to say something. I can’t be a total pushover. I scrabble around for an idea – anything that will make my friend take notice of me again.

‘You – er – you were talking to Finn?’ I say. My voice sounds choked. ‘I thought – I thought I said
I
would introduce you.’

Aubrey’s smile turns acid. ‘Yeah. Well you haven’t, have you? Livvy and Izzy said they would come with me to tell him that The Hogs were auditioning for a new drummer. It was the perfect excuse to start a conversation.’

‘The H-Hogs?’ I stammer.

‘Oh for goodness sake,’ says Livvy. ‘THE ELECTRIC WARTHOGS – The Hogs – that’s what everyone calls them.’

‘I know that,’ I muttered.

‘Yeah, like,
right
,’ says Aubrey, rolling her eyes.

Izzy titters.

‘The Hogs have been desperate for a drummer for ages, so they really need him,’ Livvy goes on.

‘He’s going to have to bring his own kit in,’ Aubrey says. ‘He said he’d have to wait until his dad could bring it as it’s too big for your mum’s
tiny car
,’ she adds.

Wow. She really is feeling nasty.

‘Cool,’ Livvy breathes. ‘Tell us when and we’ll come along. He is so dreamy, isn’t he?’ Her eyes go glassy. How does she do that? What a drama queen.

The three of them start giggling again and all start talking at once.

‘Has he got a girlfriend, d’you reckon?’

‘What kind of music is he into?’

‘Do you think he’d come to our birthday party?’

It seems my wish to become invisible has been granted. Shame that didn’t work when I was covered in custard or sprawled on the floor with my skirt in the air.