Another Me by Cathy MacPhail Page B

real girls’ night. If Mum left, I would lose nights like this, and I couldn’t bear that.
    But I wouldn’t lose them. Mum would never leave.
    When we went home Dad was even more impressed with my new hairstyle. ‘That is lovely!’ He looked at Mum. ‘Was this your idea?’
    He wanted it to be her idea, pleased to see us together like this.
    â€˜Of course it was her idea,’ I said at once. Then I went over every detail of our night at Stella’s.
    This was how I always wanted it to be. Me and Mum and Dad, laughing together, talking together. I’d do anything to keep it that way.
    It was only as I lay in bed and listened to their murmured, annoyed whispers from the living room that the old fears rose up in me again.
    They were two lovely people. Why couldn’t they just be happy?I have never looked forward to going to school so much in my life. Dying for everyone to see and comment on my hair.
    * * *
    Dawn and Kaylie, waiting for me at the top of the stairs, jumped and screamed when I came into view. ‘That is
so
cool!’ Dawn shouted.
    â€˜I can’t believe a haircut could change you like that. You look like a new person.’
    It was everything I needed to hear. No one would ever mistake the other one for me now. And it wasn’t just the haircut that was different. I felt it was a whole new me at school that day.
    A change is as good as a holiday. I hadn’t realised just how true that saying was. I was more confident, especially with everyone noticing me, and admiring my new style. It made me feel as if this was a whole new beginning for me.
    Even Drew Fraser did a double take when he saw me. ‘I hardly recognised you there.’ Then he peered closer and grinned. ‘It is the real you, isn’t it? Not that other one?’
    I had almost smiled at him, right up until he said that. Now I glared at him and flounced off.
    Monica, I noticed, was the only one in class whodidn’t remark on my hair.
    Kaylie giggled as we watched her trying her best to ignore me. ‘Jealousy’s a terrible thing!’ she whispered. And we all giggled. Was Monica really jealous of me?
    But new hairstyle or not, when it came to remembering my lines for
Macbeth
at rehearsal that night, they still eluded me.
    And Monica made sure I knew it.
    That night we were rehearsing the scene when Macbeth first sees Banquo’s ghost. Daft Donald was trying to make us believe it was every bit as scary as a
Scream
movie. I don’t think. No one believed him.
    Over and over in my mind I repeated my lines. ‘This is the very painting of your fear; this is the air-drawn dagger . . .’
    It never would come out right . . . ‘the painting of your fear.’ As soon as I said those words, all I could see was a portrait of myself, of my fear. Not any other ghost. My mind kept going blank.
    It didn’t help that Monica was sitting in the first row, right in front of me, mouthing the lines perfectly. Mocking me. I tried not to look at her.
    But even then, that wonderful day didn’t go wrong. When I finally got the words right, Donald came rightup to me and slapped me on the back. ‘You sent a shiver down my spine when you said that, Fay, gazing into the distance, almost as if you could see a ghost, too.’ He rubbed his hands together with excitement. ‘I knew I’d made the right choice with you.’
    Poor old Monica almost fell off her seat with annoyance.
    It had been a wonderful day, one of the best, and I had the whole weekend to look forward to. Shopping in the mall on Saturday with the girls. Cinema at the Multiplex at night, and best of all, and most surprising to me, was the memory of Drew Fraser’s eyes, green like emeralds, following me as I walked out of rehearsal and Kaylie and Dawn’s whispered words. ‘I definitely think he fancies you.’

Chapter Sixteen
    It was a wonderful weekend. The best weekend I’d had for