England
weren’t the only ones to have hit the target.
Megan was practically bouncing off the corridor walls when I joined her outside our form room the next morning. Dr Bailey frowned at her as he prowled by, his handlebar
moustache quivering with disapproval, but thankfully he didn’t speak.
‘Have you heard what’s happening this afternoon?’ she said, almost squeaking with suppressed excitement.
I studied her gleaming eyes and stupidly bouncy grin. ‘School is closing early?’ I hazarded.
She shook her head. ‘Nope.’
I pursed my lips thoughtfully. ‘Zombie Bride are doing a secret gig in the dance studio?’
They were Megan’s favourite band and I knew she’d give up Oreo cookies for a month to see them play. Her gaze became distant as she got momentarily side-tracked. ‘No,’
she conceded, ‘but that would be monumentally cool. Guess again.’
‘Charlie asked you out?’
‘Yeah, because that’s going to happen.’ She jiggled impatiently. ‘Come on, you’re not trying hard enough. What’s the most exciting thing you can
imagine, like, ever?’
‘Why don’t you just tell me?’ I suggested, raising my eyebrows. ‘Before you make a puddle on the floor.’
She leaned in closer. ‘The first inter-school sports tournament of the year is next month, so Mrs Robertson has decided that all the Year Tens have to try out for the athletics
squad.’ She paused to look at me meaningfully. ‘This afternoon.’
My heart sank to the bottom of my black pumps. There were few lessons I truly hated but PE was one of them. Quite why Megan was expecting me to get in a lather about it was anyone’s guess.
‘And?’
She turned her gaze towards the ceiling. ‘It means that both halves of the year will be together. Who do we know in the other half of the year?’
Suddenly, I understood. She meant Nico. ‘Megan —’
She clasped her hands together, grinning like a less hairy chimpanzee. ‘They all got notes telling them to bring their kit yesterday. It’s so perfect! Imagine if he was one of the
team captains. I bet he’d pick you first.’
I stared at her helplessly. Where did this idea come from that Nico and me were some kind of star-crossed lovers? I’d hardly mentioned him, and suddenly we were the Bella and Edward of
North London. ‘He’d wish he hadn’t picked me, let me tell you,’ I said, my voice grim. ‘There’s only one thing I’m worse at than sport and that’s
French.’
‘He won’t mind. Anyway, you’re exaggerating.’
I rolled my eyes. She might be fast becoming my best friend, but she was nuttier than a Snickers bar sometimes. ‘You saw me playing hockey last week. How many times did I trip over my own
stick?’
Shrugging, she said, ‘So hockey isn’t your thing. It doesn’t matter, anyway. Nico is going to be all over you.’
My treacherous brain conjured up his image and whispered that it wouldn’t mind that at all. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ellie leaning towards us, her eyes narrowed. I pushed the
thought firmly out of my head and nudged Megan. ‘Shh!’
She folded her arms, smirking. ‘Someone’s going to have their nose put right out of joint. I can’t wait.’
Glumly, I trailed into the room after Megan. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d planned an outfit for my wedding and named our first kids. How disappointed was she going to be when
Nico completely blanked me later?
Despite my best efforts to ignore them, Megan’s words nagged at me throughout the morning, not helped by the tiny corner of my brain hoping she was right about Nico. By
the time lunch rolled around, I was feeling sick with anxiety. If there’d been a Mr Men character called Little Miss Clumsy , I’d have been the model. I wasn’t remotely
interested in some stupid inter-school competition and Mrs Robertson would be even less keen on having me in her elite squad. It was a form of legalised torture, with the added stress of knowing
Nico would be
weren’t the only ones to have hit the target.
Megan was practically bouncing off the corridor walls when I joined her outside our form room the next morning. Dr Bailey frowned at her as he prowled by, his handlebar
moustache quivering with disapproval, but thankfully he didn’t speak.
‘Have you heard what’s happening this afternoon?’ she said, almost squeaking with suppressed excitement.
I studied her gleaming eyes and stupidly bouncy grin. ‘School is closing early?’ I hazarded.
She shook her head. ‘Nope.’
I pursed my lips thoughtfully. ‘Zombie Bride are doing a secret gig in the dance studio?’
They were Megan’s favourite band and I knew she’d give up Oreo cookies for a month to see them play. Her gaze became distant as she got momentarily side-tracked. ‘No,’
she conceded, ‘but that would be monumentally cool. Guess again.’
‘Charlie asked you out?’
‘Yeah, because that’s going to happen.’ She jiggled impatiently. ‘Come on, you’re not trying hard enough. What’s the most exciting thing you can
imagine, like, ever?’
‘Why don’t you just tell me?’ I suggested, raising my eyebrows. ‘Before you make a puddle on the floor.’
She leaned in closer. ‘The first inter-school sports tournament of the year is next month, so Mrs Robertson has decided that all the Year Tens have to try out for the athletics
squad.’ She paused to look at me meaningfully. ‘This afternoon.’
My heart sank to the bottom of my black pumps. There were few lessons I truly hated but PE was one of them. Quite why Megan was expecting me to get in a lather about it was anyone’s guess.
‘And?’
She turned her gaze towards the ceiling. ‘It means that both halves of the year will be together. Who do we know in the other half of the year?’
Suddenly, I understood. She meant Nico. ‘Megan —’
She clasped her hands together, grinning like a less hairy chimpanzee. ‘They all got notes telling them to bring their kit yesterday. It’s so perfect! Imagine if he was one of the
team captains. I bet he’d pick you first.’
I stared at her helplessly. Where did this idea come from that Nico and me were some kind of star-crossed lovers? I’d hardly mentioned him, and suddenly we were the Bella and Edward of
North London. ‘He’d wish he hadn’t picked me, let me tell you,’ I said, my voice grim. ‘There’s only one thing I’m worse at than sport and that’s
French.’
‘He won’t mind. Anyway, you’re exaggerating.’
I rolled my eyes. She might be fast becoming my best friend, but she was nuttier than a Snickers bar sometimes. ‘You saw me playing hockey last week. How many times did I trip over my own
stick?’
Shrugging, she said, ‘So hockey isn’t your thing. It doesn’t matter, anyway. Nico is going to be all over you.’
My treacherous brain conjured up his image and whispered that it wouldn’t mind that at all. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ellie leaning towards us, her eyes narrowed. I pushed the
thought firmly out of my head and nudged Megan. ‘Shh!’
She folded her arms, smirking. ‘Someone’s going to have their nose put right out of joint. I can’t wait.’
Glumly, I trailed into the room after Megan. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d planned an outfit for my wedding and named our first kids. How disappointed was she going to be when
Nico completely blanked me later?
Despite my best efforts to ignore them, Megan’s words nagged at me throughout the morning, not helped by the tiny corner of my brain hoping she was right about Nico. By
the time lunch rolled around, I was feeling sick with anxiety. If there’d been a Mr Men character called Little Miss Clumsy , I’d have been the model. I wasn’t remotely
interested in some stupid inter-school competition and Mrs Robertson would be even less keen on having me in her elite squad. It was a form of legalised torture, with the added stress of knowing
Nico would be
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