I feel a bit mean doing all the fan stuff for Ten Guitars but nothing to help Delia Thomas. She is a Teen Factor X contestant too, and she’s in my class, and a pal. Well, a pal in as much as the Gang hangs around a bit with her and a new girl called Maya, though not much at home, because the Gang has known one another since we were kiddy small and newcomers just wouldn’t fit so well into that arrangement.
She hasn’t actually asked for help, so maybe she doesn’t need any. Still, I find myself asking if she’d like me to set up a mailbox for her too, and she says, ‘Why not?’ though I can’t judge whether she thinks it’s a good idea or not.
‘I doubt anyone will be interested in writing to me,’ she says.
Again, I can’t gauge whether she thinks this is the truth or she’s playing up some false modesty. She’s hard to read.
‘Oh, I’m sure people will get in touch,’ Uggs says. ‘I loved your routine on TV, and those glasses were cool.’
Actually, Delia made the front of the free schools’ local paper* over Ten Guitars, with a photo of her from Teen Factor X and the title ‘Spexy Lady!’.
Uggs is nattering away now and he seems v chummy with Delia and Maya. They’re laughing at whatever he just said, which I missed because I was away in my head remembering the newspaper story. I have missed a vital element of the convo and now I’ll never catch up.
I suddenly notice that Uggs is a lot taller than me. When did that happen? And his voice sounds a little bit deeper, though maybe he’s putting that on to impress the girls. And OMG that’s another thing – he’s flirting with them!
I look around for Dixie to share my observations, but she’s further along the corridor giggling at something Gary the Dork O’Brien is saying. She’s also being a little too loud, like she’s trying too hard to be noticed having a super time.
My Bestests are losing their marbles. But then, my whole world seems to be going a bit skew-whiff, so why should this area be left behind in the mad mêlée?
I begin to wonder what would happen if Dixie and Uggs got ‘significant others’. I mean it’s going to happen some time (I guess?). We’re not entirely awful, or are we? There must be some hope that we’ll grow into decent human beings, even if we’re a bit unfinished now. But if they pair off with other people, I’ll be alone. Solo. Because, let’s face it, the chances of me scoring Stevie Lee are minimal.† And as I don’t have any feelings for anyone else in that way, it would just be me, by myself, whenever the others were on dates and so on.
I am not a jealous kind of person, I don’t think, but, as you’ll have noticed, I am a bit exclusive about Dixie and me and Uggs as a Gang. We’ve been together for ever and, even though we have other friends, they’re the only ones I want sitting in my room chatting and knitting with.‡ No one could ever be as special to me as they are. I can’t bear the thought of being without them or of a big change happening between us: it spooks me. I have to get busy before I get low about it all. I go ahead with the Delia Thomas box and place it next to the Guitars’ one. And I am downright glad to hear the bell ring for classes to begin.
As we make our way to the classroom, Dixie parts company with the Dork, who’s in a higher class, like the older man she has advertised for.
‘What was the hyena routine for?’ I ask, when she catches up with me. ‘There’s no way the Dork was that funny.’
‘Ooh, get you,’ is her unfantabulous retort.
This does nothing to improve my day. I am in no mood to be teased. I actually give a low growl.
‘For your info, Miss Snippety Snip, Garyб is a bit of a sweetheart. Obviously he has style issues, but he’s a guy and that sort of drawback afflicts them. It can be worked on. And he is steeped in coolmost from being an Actual Guitar.’
‘He is an Actual Geek,’ I remind her.
Sometimes I think I should charge money for having to point out the glaringly obvious to people, especially those who have gone mental, like Dixie.
‘Do you think everyone saw?’ she asks.
‘Oh yes, everyone saw and everyone heard and everyone was shocked, frankly.’
‘Great.’
Again, I give up: truly, honestly, deeply, I do.
