I look at him then and say, “right. You’re at school too, just to remind you.”
Then we snog pretty much the whole night.
Chapter 18: Wednesday, tenth night
Debono’s debunked to the dark side.
She was meant to be backing me up on Review: said it was “unlikely to amuse” if I mimed Happy Birthday, Mr President as Marilyn to Mr Underwood’s John F. Kennedy, in a sort of so-cringey-it’s-almost-cool way. I agreed. A quick, “it’s all make believe, isn’t it?” and a little kiss-blow at the audience was more what I had in my mind.
But she’s changed hers. Stepped in instead. Says we’ll do songs as well, not just Happy Birthday and “it’s bound to be more entertaining” if she becomes Kennedy. In drag. The fact there’ll be nine hundred ravening children and we’re wafting metaphorical Nando’s in front of them doesn’t seem to register. But there’s no time to think about Friday. ‘Cos Alicia Payne has an exam.
It’s not ‘til tomorrow but she’s starting to worry and fret. She says, “Miss, I bet I’ll do crap,” and I say, “better not, ‘cos I’m giving my afternoon nap time up for you.”
And she laughs but there’s something behind it, like when Tao bundled her. She looked just as shit scared back then.
I’ve remembered the girl from the dentist. It’s Alicia Payne’s brother’s ex-girlfriend, Katie. I recognised her from a photo Alicia showed me, stuffed in her wallet and treasured, of James and her licking ice-creams on the beach. They’re giggling, closed in together. The girl’s on a picnic rug, just out of reach. They went out with each other in year 10, when James was my mentor. He told he’d “done it” with Katie but wearily, hungrily, then he’d said, “oh dear, I’m sorry. I forgot you’re twelve. You seem so much older.”
I’d blushed and been flustered ‘cos just for a second he’d made me feel special but even then, even then, ‘cos my friend’s Josh, I’d known: James is gay.
And so it was. When, in year 10, he got caught by the bike sheds with Sugar Berry founder by me.
I’d said nothing, but next time at mentoring, I’d just said, “hey, you know it is fine to like boys, don’t you, James?”
And he’d stopped spouting stuff about mothers and brothers and GCSE options. Stopped quite abruptly and said, “I knew you’d know. I’ve seen you with Josh. It’s really an honour to be with a year 7 girl who’s so streetwise and knowledgeable.” But I’d read the relief in his eyes far beneath all the sarcasm. After that we were friends. I think he might have thought he could trust me.
* * *
Mum’s at it again. Bedroom banging all night. Miss Mint’s shocked but I’m not convinced. “You’d know if a man came to stay.”
“Not necessarily,” she pouts. “I do have a life, you know.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Mine.”
She’s taken the news pretty well. About TaffKai, I mean, and their swap. She’s worried, of course. About not turning back, either in time or ever, but she’s what I heard Mum once call ‘stoic’. Oh, and annoying, too.
“I could tell,” she’d said. “Well, I mean Taff is my husband.”
“Fiance,” I’d said, rather too quickly.
But she’d let it go.
* * *
We rehearse at lunch break. Debono appears, late of course, in the studio, hair crazy-wild, like she’s come from a backwards hedge-dragging. Her sagging great shopper contains all the props.
“Your hair. Platinum.”
I look at the dry, bleached-blonde wig. Kai’s said, yet again, that short hair’s his thing and nobody will recognise me for a while with it on but still, when they do, even though I’m not me, I’m embarrassed. I waffle all this, leaving out obvious bits, to Debono.
“You’ll be fine,” she says, blowing a smacker. Her frizz all slicked back, makes me retch. It’s too weird.
In comes Mr Morlis.
“Debono!” he cries, like the kids, and she winces, “just the, ah, man.” And he tells her she’s down for car parking duty.
“It’s just you do it so well,” and he stands, flipping coins up and down and he shuffles his trainers a bit.
With an, ‘I’m so invaluable’ sigh, she ups sticks and then turns as the penny
Drops. Says,
“Oh, you mean for Review. Oh, I see.”
“Yes,” he says gently. “I’ll be Kennedy.”
And I’m a lot happier, to be honest.
Chapter 19: Thursday, eleventh night
So school rushes on. Teaching’s hard. It’s been fun but I’m tired, god I’m tired. And after a full Thursday, my throat’s expired. But there’s a very important event to take place. And really it shouldn’t require a loud voice. Three fifteen comes ...