A few weeks later, Alice came up with a very elaborate plan for a trick we could play on Melissa. It involved lots of phone calls, secret meetings, bags of flour, and water balloons. It was quite a good plan actually (considering Alice had come up with it), but we never got around to carrying it out. We never seemed to find the time.
You see, by this time, we were all getting very excited about going to secondary school. Most of the class were going to move on to the school that was just up the road from our primary school. The twins, Ellen and Emma, were repeating sixth class, and Melissa was going to go to a posh boarding school in Dublin.
At the beginning of the year, Melissa used to bore us all to death bragging about how fancy her new school was going to be.
‘All the famous people send their kids there,’ she used to say. ‘Pop-stars, actors – everyone who matters really. It’s so expensive, ordinary people just can’t afford it. And it’s got this totally fantastic swimming pool. We get to use it every day after school, so I’m glad I’ve been going to swimming lessons since I was three. At Easter we all get to go to France on an exchange trip, and we …’
On and on and on she went every day until we all felt like we’d throw up if we heard one more word about it.
Now, as the summer holidays approached, Melissa began to talk less and less about her fancy boarding school.
Alice was the first to notice. She mentioned it one day at break-time.
‘Anyone hear anything lately about the best boarding school in Ireland?’ she asked.
Grace, Louise and I shook our heads.
‘Melissa hasn’t said anything about it in weeks,’ said Grace. ‘I wonder why?’
‘I bet she’s sorry now,’ said Alice.
‘But why?’ asked Louise. ‘According to Melissa, that school is the greatest place since Malory Towers.’
Alice shrugged.
‘I’m not exactly an expert on what makes Melissa tick, but my guess is, she’s nervous about going somewhere new on her own. I bet she wishes she was moving on to the local school in September, just like the rest of us.’
I shook my head.
‘No way. It’s probably just that she thinks she’s too good for the rest of us now.’
I was wrong though.
A few days later, I went into the toilets at lunchtime and found Melissa sitting on the floor sobbing. Even though it was Melissa, my worst enemy in the whole world, I couldn’t just walk away, pretending I hadn’t seen her. Before I knew what I was doing, I went over to her and asked,
‘What’s wrong?’, almost like I really cared.
At first Melissa didn’t answer, and I felt a bit stupid for even thinking that she might be human. I decided that maybe she had broken one of her precious fingernails, or perhaps she’d found a split-end in her beautiful golden hair.
Then Melissa looked up at me, and her face was all pale and crumpled-up looking.
‘I’m so afraid,’ she said.
‘Of what?’ I asked. I’d always thought that mean people like Melissa were never afraid of anything.
‘Of going away to boarding school,’ sobbed Melissa.
At first I didn’t know what to say. I had a funny feeling that if I was the one crying, Melissa would have run outside to tell all her friends and have a good laugh at how pathetic I was. I couldn’t do that to her, though. For the first time ever, I actually felt a little bit sorry for her.
I sat down beside Melissa, because it seemed like the right thing to do. I thought about putting my hand on her shoulder, but that seemed a bit too much, so I put it into my pocket instead.
‘But you wanted to go to boarding school,’ I said. ‘You told everyone that you begged your parents to let you go.’
Melissa sobbed even harder.
‘I know I did. But now I’ve changed my mind, and my parents say I have to go anyway. They’ve paid the deposit, and booked me in, and so I have to go. And I’m going to be so lonely there. All my friends will be having soooo much fun here together, and I’m going to be far away, on my own.’
‘But you’ll make new friends.’
I wondered if this was true. Melissa did have friends in our class, but every year she seemed to have fewer friends than the year before. Once even Grace and Louise used to be part of her gang, but now they couldn’t stand her. And maybe in secondary school, there wouldn’t be so many girls who would be fooled by Melissa’s fancy clothes and her pretty face. Maybe they would be clever enough to see right through her to the mean person inside.
Maybe there was a way of telling Melissa to be a nicer person, without hurting her feelings, but I couldn’t think of the right words. So I just stood up, and spoke quickly like Mum does when she’s trying to distract Rosie after a fall.
‘Come on,’ I said. ‘You should wash your face before anyone else comes in. And don’t worry. September is ages away. When the time comes, you’ll be so excited about the pool, and the hockey pitch with the super-modern surface, you’ll soon forget all about us.’
Melissa stood up slowly, and fixed her hair. I pulled a hard, bleach-free, recycled tissue from my pocket. I held it in my hand for a second, knowing that Melissa was only used to pretty, pink, scented tissues.
Would she take the opportunity to mock me, one more time?
Suddenly I realised I didn’t care whether Melissa mocked me or not. I wondered why I used to be so afraid of her, always worried about what she’d think about me and my family. Why did her opinion matter so much?
I held the tissue towards her.
‘Here,’ I said. ‘Use this.’
Melissa hesitated for just one second, then she took the tissue, and used it to wipe her eyes. Then she washed her face and followed me outside.
‘Thanks, Megan,’ she whispered. ‘You’ve been really nice.’
I shrugged.
‘It’s OK,’ I said.
Melissa began to walk slowly over to her friends. As she got closer to them, she began to walk faster, in her usual confident way, and by the time she reached them, she was tossing her hair, just like everything in her world was perfect.
I couldn’t wait to find Alice, so I could tell her what had happened.
‘Hmm,’ she said when I’d finished my story. ‘Sounds like our Melissa is human after all.’
I laughed.
‘Who would have thought it?’ I said.
Alice laughed too, then she stopped and put her hand over her mouth.
‘Maybe we shouldn’t laugh at her. Sounds like the poor thing was really upset.’
I nodded.
‘She was.’
‘And maybe it’s not her fault that she’s so horrible all the time. Maybe her parents never taught her how to be nice.’
I nodded again.
‘Yeah, maybe she can’t help herself.’
Then I had a really horrible thought.
‘Does this mean we have to like Melissa from now on?’ I asked.
Alice thought for a minute, then she shook her head.
‘Nah. Liking Melissa is a bit too hard. How ’bout we just don’t hate her as much any more?’
I grinned.
‘That sounds just about right. Now let’s go.
There’s only five minutes of lunchtime left, and remember Miss O’Herlihy has promised us a maths test. It’s long division, your favourite.’
‘Yuck,’ groaned Alice. ‘I can’t wait for the summer holidays.’