Chapter 2

‘Hey, TJ,’ called Scott Harris from his bedroom window. ‘Hang on, I’m coming down.’

Before I could answer, his head disappeared and the window closed, so I sat on the front step outside our house and waited for him. The Harris family has lived next door to us ever since we moved here when I was seven, so Scott is the next best thing I have to a brother besides Paul. Scott’s two years older than me and lately has discovered girls. Or rather, girls have discovered him. He’s cute in a boy band kind of way and there’s always a group of giggling girlies outside his gate. Scott liked to talk his latest conquests over with me and no doubt that’s what he wanted to do now.

‘TJ,’ called Mum from inside. ‘Lunch’ll be on the table in five minutes.’

‘Coming,’ I called back. ‘Just got to see Scott for a mo.’

I was glad Scott was coming over, as I badly needed someone to talk to. I was hoping he’d distract me from the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Paul had just told me that he was going travelling with his girlfriend, Saskia. For a year, maybe two. Starting with Goa, then maybe Australia and Tahiti. First Hannah, now Paul. What was going on? My two favourite people disappearing out of my life in less than ten days.

‘Where’ve you been?’ said Scott, appearing round the rhododendron bush in our front garden.

I opened my mouth to say ‘football’, but he was off again before I had time.

‘Been looking everywhere for you.’

‘Good,’ I said. ‘Because I want to talk to you.’

‘Why? What’s happening?’

‘Oh, everything,’ I began. ‘You know Paul dropped out and everything, well, now he’s off travelling. Hannah’s gone. I . . .’

‘Really? Cool,’ said Scott, looking at his watch.

D’oh? I thought. No. Not cool. ‘Scott, are you listening?’

‘Yeah. Course. But I need to ask a favour first.’

I sighed. ‘What?’

‘Hot date,’ said Scott, with a grin. ‘I need to borrow a fiver. Just for today. I’ll give it back to you next week when I get my allowance.’

Yeah, I thought, you said that last week when I lent you two quid. But then I didn’t want him to think I was a cheapskate. No one likes a cheapskate. I was sure he’d give it back to me in the end.

I rummaged around in my sports bag, found my purse and pulled out the fiver pocket money that Mum had given me that morning.

‘Thanks,’ said Scott. ‘You’re a pal.’

‘So who’s the sad victim this afternoon?’ I asked.

‘Jessica Hardey. She’s from your school.’

I nodded. I knew Jessica all right. She was hard to miss. Just Scott’s type, glam and girlie with long blonde hair.

‘Yeah. She’s in the year above me. In Year 10. Anyway, as I was saying, Paul’s leaving tomorrow, Hannah’s gone and it feels like . . .’

‘Actually,’ interrupted Scott, ‘talking about your school. Do you know Nesta Williams?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘She’s in my class.’

Scott looked as though he’d won the lottery. ‘Wow. You’re kidding? How fantastic. She’s like, a five-star babe. Could you put in a word for me?’

For some reason this irked me. Who did he think I was? First the bank that likes to say yes, now a dating agency?

‘What about Jessica?’ I asked.

‘What about Jessica?’

‘Well, if she’s your girlfriend, would she like you asking about Nesta?’

‘Hey. Not my fault,’ said Scott with a wide smile. ‘So many girls, only one me.’

My jaw dropped open, but then I realised he was joking. At least, I think he was joking. Sometimes, he acted as though he believed he really was God’s gift to women.

‘Oh, poor you having to share yourself around us miserable impoverished girls,’ I said.

Scott laughed. ‘You know, you’re really cool, TJ. You’re so easy to talk to. Like one of the boys.’

‘Thanks,’ I said, feeling chuffed with the compliment. Easy to talk to? Maybe that was it. I didn’t need to worry about being tongue-tied or saying the wrong thing. I don’t need to talk, only listen. Maybe there was hope for me after all.

‘Anyway – Nesta. What’s she like?’

It was out before I could stop myself. ‘Oh – a complete airhead.’

I felt a bit rotten saying that, as I don’t really know Nesta beyond the fact that she’s the prettiest girl in the whole school. I’ve never spent any time with her.

‘Airhead’s OK,’ grinned Scott. ‘It’s not like I want her to talk to.’

‘Yeah, right,’ I said, suddenly feeling miffed. Maybe it wasn’t such a compliment that I was easy to talk to? Oh, I don’t know. Boys. They confuse me.

‘Wanna arm-wrestle?’ I asked.

Scott looked at me as if I was out of my mind. ‘What?’

‘Arm . . . oh, nothing,’ I said, as I saw Jessica tottering up the road in strappy high heels. ‘Your date’s here.’

Jessica appeared at the gate and looked surprised to see me. She looked fantastic in a tiny white tank top and white jeans with diamante bits sewn up the seams.

‘Hey,’ said Scott, leaping up and going over to her. ‘You look good.’

Jessica was staring at me as though I’d just crawled out from under a stone.

‘Thanks,’ she said and jerked her thumb at me. ‘Sister?’

‘Next-door neighbour,’ said Scott. ‘You know each other from school, right?’

I smiled at Jessica, but she didn’t smile back. ‘Can’t say I’ve noticed her,’ she said. Then, flicking her hair as if dismissing me, she turned away.

‘See you later,’ winked Scott. He put his arm round Jessica, snuggled into her and whispered something in her ear.

Jessica giggled and they disappeared off down the road.

‘Er . . . nice to meet you, too,’ I called after them.

Huh, I thought. You can act as superior as you like, Jessica Hardey but I know Scott’s got his eye on someone else. One week and you’ll be history. So there. Stick that in your diet yoghurt and eat it.

I sat out for a bit longer. So much for my heart-to-heart with Scott. Paul was leaving and I felt miserable. Who could I talk to? Scott was a waste of time.

‘TJ,’ called Mum’s voice. ‘Lunch. On the table. Now.’

As I got up to go in, I saw Mr Kershaw and Drule go past again. Mr Kershaw was jabbering away to Drule and the dog was looking up at him as if he understood every word.

That’s it, I thought. I’m going to ask Mum for a dog. She said I could have a pet ages ago. A best friend of the furry kind. One who won’t leave the country.

Why didn’t I think of it before?

email: Outbox (1)

From: goody2shoes@psnet.co.uk

To: hannahnutter@fastmail.com

Date: 9 June

Subject: Norf London blues

Hi Hannah

Miss you loads.

Idea: why don’t we run away to LA? I can write film scripts and you can be a dancer?

Bad news: our team lost at footie. But then, you were our best player so I guess it’s to be expected. Don’t your parents realise the devastation it has caused nationally by removing you from the country?

My bro Paul is leaving. Off to Goa. With Saskia.

Ag. Agh. Agherama. I’m losing all my friends.

Scary Dad is in v bad mood. It’s not my fault Paul wants to play the bass guitar and be a hippie instead of being a doctor. Atmosphere at home awful.

Good news: Beat that scab Evans at arm-wrestling. Hahahaha.

Mum says I can have a dog. Suggest you get one too if your mum will allow until you settle in at school. Dog – man’s best friend etc etc. We’re going to go next weekend to look for one.

Paul is staying the night. Hurrah. And for Sunday lunch. After that he’s off and I will be All On My Own.

And guess what? Jessica Hartley from Year 10 is going out with Scott. But he fancies Nesta Williams. Hahahaha.

If another person says – you’ll soon make new friends, I vill ’ave to keell them.

I am starting a collection of made-up books by made-up authors. For example:

Medical Hosiery by Serge Icklestockings

Modern Giants by Hugh Mungous

Please send contributions.

Tata for now

TJ

PS: Confucius say: man with no front garden look forlorn.

 

email: Inbox (1)

From: hannahnutter@fastmail.com

To: goody2shoes@psnet.co.uk

Subject: Cape cool

Hasta banana baby

Miss you too, megalooney.

Keep your chinola up. It’s hard for me too. Everything’s so differentio here. It’s supposed to be winter but it’s hot hot HOT. Cape Town is mega. You must come and visit. So far been up Table Mountain. Pretty cool. Though hot. Haha. And to the beach. Pretty hot though cool. Haha. There are loads of beaches here, everyone hangs out there. Boys here look more healthy than back home. All suntans and white teeth. Still stupid though if the one next door is anything to go by. His name’s Mark. He’s OK but he asked me to a barbie at his house and he eats with his mouth open and you can see all his food. Ew. Gross. He’ll never get off with anyone if he doesn’t learn to eat properly.

Book titles. Hmmm. Let me think.

OK.

Pain In the Neck by Lauren Gitis

Hahahahahaha.

Chow bambino

Love you muchomucho

Hannah

Confucius say: who say I say all those things they say I say?

Arf. Arf.