I know that Pilar isn’t my wife or anything. She’s allowed to have other friends. But I can’t help feeling jittery with jealousy. I spend all lunch period pacing the corridors and wondering how I’ll win her back from Donna. Pilar’s my only friend. If I lose her, I’ll have no one.
So I come up with a speech; I’ll be honest and tell her how I feel when I get to drama. We’re performing a sketch together; she’ll have to partner up with me and listen.
But when I get into the theatre, Pilar is already sitting with Donna, Hazel and Mariah. There’s no way I’ll get a chance to tell her how I feel now. I’ll be alone all lesson. Everyone will stare and wonder why Pilar and I have fallen out. I don’t want anyone knowing I’ve got no friends.
Without waiting another second, I scan the theatre to make sure Ms Court isn’t hiding somewhere and make a run for it. I can hide out in some toilets until school finishes then meet Nana in the playground as usual – no one needs to know I skipped a couple of lessons.
I sprint across the playground and into the girls’ toilets of 100 Block. Two Year Elevens are brushing their hair. A girl with blonde waves to her waist presses her lips against a mirror, leaving a bright pink kiss on it. Her friend in a miniskirt and ripped tights lights up a cigarette.
‘Want a puff?’ she asks.
‘No thank you,’ I say, edging into a cubicle. I lock it and sit on the toilet without bothering to shut the seat.
‘Hey, titch,’ one of the girls calls. ‘You’ll be late for your lesson if you stay in there.’
‘Leave her alone, Mags. Maybe she ate something spicy.’
The toilets echo with laughter and then a door rattles and it’s quiet.
I can’t stay here for two whole lessons, not if Year Elevens are going to be coming in and out and smoking and shouting at me the whole time. Maybe I could go to the office and say I’m sick. But the nurse would probably call Nana who would take one look at me and know I was lying. They might even send me back to class.
Only one person would understand. I reach into my bag for my phone.
Mum: Hello, yes?
Me: Mum?
Mum: Who is it?
Me: Mum, it’s me, Apple.
Mum: Apple! Hey! I was wondering when you were going to call. Are you OK?
Me: I hope you aren’t busy. You’re probably doing something important. I don’t want to –
Mum: Busy? No! No, not really. What’s up?
Me: Nothing.
Mum: Tell me.
Me: My friend Pilar went off with that girl Donna Taylor I was telling you about, so I . . . I have no one to hang around with and it’s embarrassing and . . .
Mum: Apple?
Me: I’m sorry I called you. It sounds silly.
Mum: Where are you now? You aren’t hiding out in the toilets, are you?
Me: . . .
Mum: Do you want me to come and get you?
Me: I only have two lessons left today.
Mum: But do you want to leave?
Me: Yes.
Mum: Right. Go to reception and say you’ve got stomach ache. Give me fifteen minutes.
Me: What about Nana?
Mum: What about her?
The receptionist isn’t pleased to see me. ‘What’s wrong exactly?’
‘My tummy hurts,’ I say.
‘Do you have PE now?’ she asks.
‘No, miss.’
‘Maths?’
‘No, miss.’
‘Right, well, the nurse isn’t here today, and you can’t hang around the office. Can someone pick you up?’
‘My mum can get me,’ I say, quickly adding, ‘I’ll call her.’
The receptionist slides the window open wide enough to push a clipboard at me. A pen dangles on a string by its side. ‘Sign out,’ she says.
When Mum pulls up outside reception, she pushes open the passenger door and waves. ‘Hurry up, babes. I gotta be at the bank in five minutes.’
As I am clicking my seat belt into place, Mum leans over and kisses me on the ear.
‘So tell me what happened,’ she says. She races out of the school gates. The car tyres screech against the road.
‘Pilar, who’s meant to be my best friend, has dumped me for Donna Taylor,’ I tell her.
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know. I think it’s because I’m not allowed out and stuff.’
‘Pilar doesn’t sound like much of a friend to me. She sounds like a bitch,’ Mum says. I laugh. Nana would never say something like that – she would tell me to stop being silly. And she would never, ever swear in front of me.
‘I don’t know if she is. Deep down I think she’s nice,’ I say. Pilar’s been my friend since I started secondary school. It’s the first time she’s been mean. And she hasn’t even really been mean; she’s just leaving me out. I’m not sure whether or not that counts. ‘Donna Taylor’s got loads of friends. Why does she have to have mine too?’
‘Donna Taylor? What a name. She sounds like a stripper.’
‘She’s really popular,’ I say.
Mum smiles. ‘Strippers usually are. Anyway, so what? Anyone can be popular.’
‘I can’t,’ I say.
‘Really?’ Mum says. She tries to cover up a smile with her fingers, but I think she might be plotting something.
After Mum and I have gone to the bank, dropped off some dry-cleaning and stopped for an ice cream, Mum takes me home. She doesn’t come in with me. ‘I’m late. I’ve got to scoot off. But I’ll see you soon, OK,’ she says.
Nana is in the hall, lacing up her shoes. She does a double take when she sees me. Derry bounds out of the kitchen and noses my school bag. I ruffle his fur and his tail wags.
‘You got out early? Why didn’t you call? I don’t like you taking the bus alone,’ Nana says.
I could make something up, but I’ve never lied to Nana. Even the thought of it makes my neck go blotchy. ‘I fell out with Pilar,’ I say.
‘What does that mean?’
‘I told the receptionist I was sick. Mum picked me up.’
Nana opens the front door, but Mum is gone. She keeps her back to me and hangs up her coat on the hallstand along with her red headscarf. ‘This is not acceptable, Apple.’
‘What isn’t acceptable?’
Nana turns around. ‘The school shouldn’t have let you leave. I’m your legal guardian.’
‘But she’s my mum,’ I say.
‘And she believed that a tiff with Pilar was a good reason to pull you out of lessons?’
‘Pilar’s ditched me, Nana. I’ve got no one now. Donna Taylor took her away.’
Nana rolls her eyes. ‘Can’t you all be friends together?’
‘No, we can’t. That isn’t how it works. Donna’s leaving me out on purpose. She doesn’t like me.’
Nana puts her hands on her hips. ‘Why wouldn’t she like you?’
‘Because I’m never allowed to do anything. Why wouldn’t you let me go with her and her friends after school? Now she’s stolen Pilar.’
‘So tell Pilar you’re upset.’
I pull off my school bag and toss it at the bottom of the stairs. ‘You aren’t listening!’ I shout. ‘You never listen. All you do is tell me I’m wrong and silly and young.’
Derry’s tail stops wagging. He slides back into the kitchen. He’s such a wimp.
‘Apple, you know we don’t shout like that in this house.’
But I can’t stop myself. ‘We don’t shout and we don’t talk. You just tell me what to do all the time!’
‘I’m trying to take care of you.’
‘I’m thirteen and you think I’m eight. It’s your fault I have no friends.’
Nana freezes. ‘What’s happened? You aren’t behaving like yourself.’ She doesn’t even try to think about what she’s done. She can’t imagine she’s wrong. It has to be me. It always has to be my fault, just like it’s always been Mum’s fault for leaving.
I push my shoulders back and swallow. I feel brave and scared all at once. ‘I don’t want to live here any more,’ I tell her.
‘What did you say?’ Nana glares at me. I might as well have slapped her.
I turn and head up to my bedroom.
‘Apple, get back down here,’ Nana calls after me.
‘I’m going to live with Mum,’ I say, and shut my bedroom door.