You're the One That I Want(3)

I watched as she looked up while we chorused in her direction, and was left stunned when her eyes found mine for a tiny second. My cheeks suddenly sprang to life and I felt them lift into a huge goofy grin. She smiled briefly before her gaze fell next to me for a second and then back down to the ground – her cheeks pinking further. I turned to Robert to see that he was wearing the same silly grin as I was. He looked up at me and let out a second giggle.

Robert never giggled. He laughed, but never giggled. The new girlish squeal he’d been unable to hold in was quite amusing.

At lunchtime Robert and I wasted no time in going over to Maddy and saying hello. We took her to the dinner hall (where we tucked into potato croquettes, dinosaur-shaped breaded turkey and baked beans – food back then was awesome) and gathered as much information as we could about the girl we’d decided would be our new friend.

Our hearts almost exploded when she revealed she lived around the corner from our homes – we both looked at her with open-mouthed grins, not believing our luck, as we wondered how soon we’d be able to knock for her to play out with us.

It would be fair to say we became instantly aware that Maddy possessed something different to any other girl we’d ever met – something that had us spellbound from our first glimpse of her nervous frame as the class’s new girl. She just had this air about her, this inexplicable quality that drew us in like two obedient puppy dogs.

Not a single part of me wanted to fight against that attraction.

I was happily won over.

Immediately smitten.





Maddy





Nine years old …




I wasn’t very happy when Mum and Dad announced we were moving ‘to the sticks’ – even if they said it was for a ‘better way of life’. In my head I imagined we were going to be living in a wooden shack with no one else around us for miles and miles, surrounded by fields of hay and smelly chickens – like something from Little House on the Prairie. But actually, it wasn’t so bad in Peaswood – our house was made of brick for a start, we had neighbours, and there wasn’t a chicken in sight. There was a bustling High Street, which was within walking distance no matter where you lived in the village, filled with shops and pubs (there were four pubs – a tad excessive for such a small place), and a big community centre at one end. The local C of E church stood in the middle of the busy street, flanked by the florist and the baker’s – the smell of freshly baked bread and cakes making tummies rumble as people knelt and prayed.

I had been nervous about starting a new school and making new friends. It wasn’t like I was the popular kid in my previous class, but I had a nice bunch of mates who I was sad to say goodbye to when we moved. Like any girl at that age, all I’d wanted was for my new classmates to like me.

On my first day I was feeling extremely nervous and flustered as Mr Watson brought me to everyone’s attention in his brisk manner. It’s mind-boggling that teachers don’t realize how stressful and awkward that moment is for a kid – knowing that everyone’s sizing you up and deciding whether they’re interested in making you their new BFF or whether you’ll be doomed to be the class loser for ever more. It’s excruciating. I felt my face redden and my bladder weaken in seconds – it took every ounce of self-control to stop myself peeing on the spot. That would have been a great start.

Spotting Robert and Ben, once I’d finally plucked up enough courage to look up from the thinning brown carpet at my feet, both sending the cheesiest smiles in my direction, had made me feel much more relaxed. My inner turmoil momentarily gave way, enabling me to flash them a smile before, once again, looking down at the brown below.

Even though we’d exchanged smiles, I was still surprised they were the first to come over to talk to me. I thought the girls of the class would be. I assumed one of them would be happy to have someone new to hang out with, but it appeared not. None of them bothered with me at all on my first day. Instead, it was the two boys who took an interest.

I can remember thinking they were a funny pair, Robert and Ben. Robert, who I noticed was clearly the more confident of the two, wore his straw-like blond hair in straight silky curtains that ran either side of his face, down to his cheekbones. His sparkly green eyes, splattered with flecks of gold, never seemed too alert – it was like he was half asleep with two little slits on his lightly freckled face. Ben was painfully shy, but reminded me of Bambi – his chestnut hair was gelled into perfect spikes and he had these humungous brown eyes, which appeared all the richer due to his olive skin.

Thanks to their ridiculously big smiles and kind manners when taking me to lunch, I quickly felt my worry at being in a new school melt away. I was also thankful not to have been completely rejected by my new classmates.