kind of school uniform to keep the peace.â
âYou couldnât look ordinary no matter what you were wearing,â I said. I blushed again because I sounded so wet and gushing.
Jasmine giggled. She was obviously used to compliments and people getting crushes on her. A lot of the boys in our year were hovering, yelling and barging about and bashing each other, showing off to get her attention. Jasmine barely bothered to glance in their direction.
âIdiots,â she muttered.
One of them threw a KitKat at her. She caught it deftly.
âThanks, Iâm starving,â she said, opening up the wrapper. She broke a tiny mouthful off one end and then gave the rest to me.
âHey, itâs for you, not SC Violet,â the boy shouted.
Jasmine took no notice. âEat it,â she said to me. âSC Violet?â
âOh God,â I said.
I didnât want to tell her. The horrible boys in our school divided all the girls into two categories. Most of us were SCs â Sad Cows. The really pretty cool girls were SBs â Sexy Bunnies. Jasmine would be categorized as a Super-super-super SB. We all knew this was a repellent and degrading practice and all the SCs objected strongly. The SBs didnât seem to mind too much. But when I told Jasmine she screwed up her face in disgust.
âGod, I canât stick boys,â she said.
âNeither can I,â I said quickly. âWell, apart from my brother. And Iâm not officially talking to him at the moment.â
âWhy?â
âOh, just because of something he did at the weekend,â I said vaguely.
âLike what?â said Jasmine.
âItâs just this stupid game,â I said.
âTell me more!â
âNothing to tell, really,â I said. I sat down on a bench in the cloakroom and nibbled the KitKat. Jasmine sat sideways beside me, her pointy boots up on the bench. âHave you got a brother, Jasmine? Or sisters?â
âWell. Sort of. Iâve got some steps and one half brother. Mirandaâs been married twice. Jonathanâs never married but he had a son â heâs grown up now. I donât like him;he was really hateful to me whenever we had to spend a weekend together.â
âMy brother can be really hateful to me too, sometimes,â I said, astonishing myself. It was as if someone else was saying my words for me, like a ventriloquist with a dummy. Then I said something even more surprising. âMy brother isnât my real brother either.â
âIs he a step or a half?â
âHeâs not either. My mum and dad adopted him when he was a baby.â
âSo are you adopted too?â Jasmine asked, looking interested.
âNo, itâs just Will.â I swallowed, suddenly scared. Iâd only just met Jasmine and already I was telling her everything.
âYou wonât tell anyone, will you?â I asked anxiously.
âWhy? Is it a secret?â
âYes!
We
didnât even know till last year, Will and me.
And then our granny blurted it out last Christmas. Will was in a strop about something and she was mad at him anyway because she didnât think heâd been grateful enough for his present. It was a Manchester United shirt and Will isnât into football one bit. Anyway, she said something about bad blood will out, and what do you expect? We thought she was talking rubbish at first â sheâs always been a bit bonkers. But then it all came out and it was so awful.â
âFor your brother?â
âWell, he acted like he couldnât care less. Like he was even glad, because he doesnât get on with our dad at all.He doesnât really get on with Mum either. But Will and me, weâve always been very very close. And now itâs so weird, because heâs still my brother, of course, but heâs not
really
my brotherââ
At that precise moment I looked up and there was Will walking towards
âYou couldnât look ordinary no matter what you were wearing,â I said. I blushed again because I sounded so wet and gushing.
Jasmine giggled. She was obviously used to compliments and people getting crushes on her. A lot of the boys in our year were hovering, yelling and barging about and bashing each other, showing off to get her attention. Jasmine barely bothered to glance in their direction.
âIdiots,â she muttered.
One of them threw a KitKat at her. She caught it deftly.
âThanks, Iâm starving,â she said, opening up the wrapper. She broke a tiny mouthful off one end and then gave the rest to me.
âHey, itâs for you, not SC Violet,â the boy shouted.
Jasmine took no notice. âEat it,â she said to me. âSC Violet?â
âOh God,â I said.
I didnât want to tell her. The horrible boys in our school divided all the girls into two categories. Most of us were SCs â Sad Cows. The really pretty cool girls were SBs â Sexy Bunnies. Jasmine would be categorized as a Super-super-super SB. We all knew this was a repellent and degrading practice and all the SCs objected strongly. The SBs didnât seem to mind too much. But when I told Jasmine she screwed up her face in disgust.
âGod, I canât stick boys,â she said.
âNeither can I,â I said quickly. âWell, apart from my brother. And Iâm not officially talking to him at the moment.â
âWhy?â
âOh, just because of something he did at the weekend,â I said vaguely.
âLike what?â said Jasmine.
âItâs just this stupid game,â I said.
âTell me more!â
âNothing to tell, really,â I said. I sat down on a bench in the cloakroom and nibbled the KitKat. Jasmine sat sideways beside me, her pointy boots up on the bench. âHave you got a brother, Jasmine? Or sisters?â
âWell. Sort of. Iâve got some steps and one half brother. Mirandaâs been married twice. Jonathanâs never married but he had a son â heâs grown up now. I donât like him;he was really hateful to me whenever we had to spend a weekend together.â
âMy brother can be really hateful to me too, sometimes,â I said, astonishing myself. It was as if someone else was saying my words for me, like a ventriloquist with a dummy. Then I said something even more surprising. âMy brother isnât my real brother either.â
âIs he a step or a half?â
âHeâs not either. My mum and dad adopted him when he was a baby.â
âSo are you adopted too?â Jasmine asked, looking interested.
âNo, itâs just Will.â I swallowed, suddenly scared. Iâd only just met Jasmine and already I was telling her everything.
âYou wonât tell anyone, will you?â I asked anxiously.
âWhy? Is it a secret?â
âYes!
We
didnât even know till last year, Will and me.
And then our granny blurted it out last Christmas. Will was in a strop about something and she was mad at him anyway because she didnât think heâd been grateful enough for his present. It was a Manchester United shirt and Will isnât into football one bit. Anyway, she said something about bad blood will out, and what do you expect? We thought she was talking rubbish at first â sheâs always been a bit bonkers. But then it all came out and it was so awful.â
âFor your brother?â
âWell, he acted like he couldnât care less. Like he was even glad, because he doesnât get on with our dad at all.He doesnât really get on with Mum either. But Will and me, weâve always been very very close. And now itâs so weird, because heâs still my brother, of course, but heâs not
really
my brotherââ
At that precise moment I looked up and there was Will walking towards
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