I wouldn’t say I was happy a week later when John decided Maddy wasn’t his type after all. Watching her become deflated and embarrassed at being carelessly dumped was certainly uncomfortable, but I definitely felt relieved that their coquettish behaviour had come to an end. I selfishly found it reassuring and comforting to have things go back to normal. Well, almost back to normal –John may not have taken his relationship with Maddy much further, but Robert and Daniella had become an official item. This was a pairing I didn’t mind so much. It didn’t leave me seething and depressed; in fact, it was almost the opposite. I enjoyed having Maddy to myself a little more when Rob’s attention had been diverted away from us. I liked us becoming a twosome.
Maddy
Fifteen years old …
The summer before going into year eleven was a glorious one. Every day seemed to be spent running around in the sweltering sunshine with careless abandon. The long days stretched the daylight hours, increasing the time we had to explore and play. More than any other summer holiday I can remember, that one was gay and merry – our last chance to be proper kids before heading back to school, turning sixteen and starting the gruelling lead-up to our GCSE exams. For the last time in our lives we were free from worries, responsibilities and expectations. It was a summer filled with smiles of contentment … for the most part, anyway.
We were that little bit older by then and our mums felt at ease about us going out independently, allowing us to go into the village on our own – as long as we promised to stay together and headed home before it got dark. They implied they were doing us a favour but, let’s face it, we were a handful and it was a relief for them to get rid of us for a few hours when they could. There was only so much they could take of us being under their feet after they had been used to sending us off to school each day. With us out of their hair they were left to enjoy the peace that had only existed before we came into the world kicking and screaming.
Robert and Daniella (the school’s current golden couple) had frequently been found snogging each other’s faces off whenever they had the chance during term time. Despite their keenness, though, they hadn’t actually managed to see each other so far during that summer break. Instead they had been texting almost every day and spent an hour every night on MSN. Much to Ben’s and my disdain.
Our local park, to which we’d become regular visitors, had a variety of trees lining the pathways and clustered around its edges, most of which we’d succeeded in climbing. The boys had developed a little routine when it came to tackling their vertical beams, one that was aggravating to say the least. Essentially, they would clamber up as quickly as they could, perch from up high and grin down at me, heckling for me to start climbing. I had no doubt that Robert and Ben never saw my being a girl as something that made me a lesser human being, but when it came to climbing trees I was slower and more fearful – something that amused them. Now, I wasn’t a girlie girl, I wasn’t scared of getting grubby. I just wasn’t overly keen on heights! Usually I overcame my fear and cautiously ascended, taking care not to look down until I was on a sturdy branch but, occasionally, if the tree just seemed too big and freaked me out, I’d decline the challenge and remain grounded, much to the boys’ annoyance. I’d lie beneath the tree, basking in the gorgeous sunshine, ignoring the leaves and twigs that they playfully threw down
at me until they got bored and descended, joining me at ground level.
Three weeks into our six weeks of freedom we were once again in the park, towards its back end, with the boys deciding what tree to take on.
‘This one!’ shouted Ben as he approached a sparse-looking beech tree, and started to fly up it with ease.
Robert followed suit. Only once they were both dangling from its branches, swinging with youthful serenity, did they look down at me, Ben grinning manically, while Robert simply raised his eyebrows, daring me to join them.
‘Come on,’ called Ben. ‘Hurry up!’
‘Don’t rush me,’ I warned in a huff as I placed my baby blue rucksack next to the base of the tree, took out a bottle of Coke and downed a big gulp of it, the fizz burning my insides in my haste.
‘I don’t understand what takes you so long.’
‘I’m just getting ready.’
‘You’ve climbed bigger!’ encouraged Ben.
‘I know, I know …’ I faltered, peering up at the pair of them, each in their grubby army-like camouflage shorts and khaki-green t-shirts. Their look was certainly Action Man inspired, my own was a touch more Sporty Spice, with dark blue Adidas trackie bottoms that had three florescent orange stripes running down each leg. Stupidly I’d put on a white t-shirt that day, and there was no way it would still be gleaming white by the time I got home, so I knew I’d get a telling off from Mum for getting it dirty.