Not Pretty Enough Page 5

  “Chessie, Deborah, Ewan, Lloyd, Cole, Darren.”

  No way. The groups are always picked depending on who you’re standing next to, and yes, okay, Debs and I are quite near to where Lloyd and Ewan are standing so it is logical that we would be in a group together, but why now? Why today?

  I can barely think of any better way to spend a Tuesday afternoon than a walk or even a light jog with Lloyd (jogging makes my boobs more noticeable) but the problem is that I can’t really walk. My ankle hurts. The only thing I’ve managed to do today is limp between lessons. I know that if I give this note to Miss Raine she will let me, no, scratch that, she will make me stay in the gym and do nothing, because my ankle is so swollen up I could just about get my shoe on this morning. My mother has even told me that if it’s not better by tomorrow, I’ll have to go for an x-ray.

  But, this is a one time only chance. We’ve had cross-country running every month for the past two and a half years in this school and this is the first time I’ve been put in a group with Lloyd Layton, and by that logic, will probably be the only time. I can’t miss this chance. So what if I can barely walk? Lloyd is so good looking that he probably has some sort of healing qualities anyway.

  “Right, everybody in their gym kits immediately,” the teacher yells. “I expect you at the gate in five minutes, understand?”

  A collective groan reverberates around the schoolyard.

  “Good, hop to it,” Miss Raine shouts.

  Debs nudges me as we make our way to the changing room. “Give her the note or you’ll get detention for being late.”

  “No,” I say. “I’m going to attempt it.”

  Debs stares at me open-mouthed. “Chessie, I…”

  “I know, okay? But when am I ever going to get a chance to be in a group with Lloyd again?”

  “I know you like the guy, but don’t you think all that walking is going to hurt? You could barely make it to the form room this morning.”

  I shrug. “Don’t they say you need to exercise injuries like this, keep them active?”

  “Have you looked at your ankle lately?” she asks incredulously.

  “Yeah,” I say. “It’s about the same width as my thigh. What of it?”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “This is Lloyd Layton we’re talking about. He’s worth a little pain.”

  “Well, just so you know, I’m not carrying you home tonight if you break something.”

  “It’s just cross-country running. What’s the worst that can happen?”

  Famous last words, as usual. If I’m honest about it, I hadn’t realised quite how bad my ankle actually is. At least, I hadn’t until I tried to pull a trainer on. That hurt. I even had to leave the laces undone because my foot is so swollen that I can’t do them up.

  I lean on Debs as we make our way over to the gate where the rest of the class are waiting. Great. Three forms waiting just for the two of us.

  “Miss Clemenfield,” Miss Raine says. “Something wrong?”

  “I’m fine,” I grate out. “Just pulled a muscle.”

  “Well, it’s good to see you working through it for a change.”

  Are all teachers this sarcastic or is it just the ones I have?

  “Okay,” Miss Raine continues. “Whichever group is the first to return gets to do the activity of their choice for games next week. Go!”

  We all set off. You have to walk down the road single file until you get to the forest turn off, and then split into your groups and, well, run.

  As soon as we hit the turning, Lloyd, Darren and Cole charge off ahead like they are on some kind of power-walking trip. I’m still leaning on Debs for support and Ewan is lagging behind with us because, as he repeatedly tells us, he’s good at the academic side, not the physical side of school.

  “What are you even doing here, Chess?” he asks. “Usually you’re begging to get out of cross-country, and the one day when you’ve got a genuine reason, you’re doing it.”

  “How much of a wimp would I look like if I just backed out of every activity because of a little twinge?” I mutter. Ewan doesn’t need to know quite how large my crush on his friend is.

  “Pffft,” Debs says loudly.

  “Any time today, you lot,” Cole yells back at us. “We want to win this thing. We need that choice of what to do for games next week so we can practice our discus throwing for sports day.”

  “Big whoop,” I say. “Why can’t boys do something that you don’t need to run nine miles to practice?”

  “Because they have egos when it comes to sports,” Ewan says.

  “You don’t.”

  “I like chemistry, not sweat.” He laughs.

  The three boys ahead of us come to an abrupt stop and turn around, obviously waiting for us. They huff out annoyed sighs and tap their feet on the floor like a frustrated Sonic the Hedgehog.

  “Could you girls go any slower?” Lloyd asks.

  Nobody answers.

  He mutters something under his breath. “Okay, I know a shortcut. We used to do this in the first year, but we haven’t needed to lately because we don’t usually get stuck with girls.” He spits the word out like we’re so pathetic he can’t even bear to say it. “We have to be careful not to get caught, but if you follow me and Darren, we’ll be back to the school ages before anyone else.”

  I think that this might be a bad idea, but I am not about to argue with Lloyd Layton.

  “Right.” He climbs over a rock and disappears into the thickness of the trees. “This way. Try to keep up, girls.”

  “The teachers will kill us all if they find out,” Ewan says. “We’re not allowed to go off the path.”

  “How will they find out?” Darren gives us a threatening look.

  Ewan shrugs. Obviously it won’t be because of us.

  I don’t like to criticise, but Lloyd’s shortcut is kind of overgrown. And steep. We’re climbing through the forestry. Literally climbing right through it. Holding onto tree trunks for balance. The ground is covered by ferns, leaves and God knows what else. In fact, I haven’t seen or felt solid ground for what feels like miles. And saying that my ankle is hurting would be the understatement of the year.

  I wish I was wearing trousers instead of shorts because so far I’ve been entangled in approximately seven bramble bushes and my legs are torn to bits. In fact, I think they might be hurting more than my ankle.

  Debs is trying to help me through the forest as best she can, but she’s had a few trysts with bramble bushes herself and is bleeding almost as much as I am.

  “There was a clear path through here the last time I came,” Lloyd mutters.

  “That was, like, two years ago,” Ewan says.

  Lloyd has broken a branch from a tree and is using it to beat down the bushes ahead of us so we can tread over them.

  “Why don’t we just turn back?” I ask. “We’ll still make it before the buses leave.”

  “No,” Lloyd says without even looking at me. “We’ll still win easily, just as soon as we get through these stinging nettles.”

  So far none of the three boys have even noticed that there is anything wrong with me, and I feel a little stupid to be honest. I thought Lloyd Layton was more considerate than that. I thought he would at least notice that I’m limping, maybe even care a little bit. Possibly even offer to carry me for a bit.

  But no.

  Wait… Did he say stinging nettles?

  He did say stinging nettles, but what he should have said was ‘monstrously big stinging nettles that come up past the waist and will sting you everywhere if you so much as move.’

  It’s okay for him. He’s tall enough to avoid them. I have been stung everywhere from my legs to my arms. I’ve even been stung on the neck.

  By the time we’re nearing the school, I’m feeling very dejected. Lloyd, Darren and Cole charged on ahead, leaving me, Debs and Ewan alone to get past the stinging nettles, hidden rocks, muddy puddles and bramble bushes that I swear grew bigger as we trod
on them. In fact, they only stop and wait for us when we reach the road just outside the school gate. Not because they care but because it’ll look suspicious if we arrive back separately.

  Lloyd ignores us completely and Cole gives us a distasteful look. “Wipe the blood off your legs before someone notices.”

  We won anyway. Cole and Lloyd will get to practice their discus throwing next week.

  The only bright side to the whole thing is that I will probably miss maths tomorrow morning when I go to the hospital for an x-ray.

  CHAPTER 12

  The last week of term is always a fun week. It’s like everything fun that we’re allowed to do is packed into one week in the middle of July. Most of the lessons are just free periods; even the teachers have realised that there’s no point in giving out homework, because nobody is going to do it, and in September when we get back to school, all the classes rearrange and we will probably end up with different teachers anyway.

  Tomorrow is the school trip. Nobody really likes the trips in this school, partly because they remind us too much of primary school, and partly because they’re a bit rubbish and we go to the same place every year.

  Summerville Park.

  It’s a theme park. It’s okay if you like fairground rides.

  I don’t.

  Last year Debs and I found a picnic bench and sunbathed on it all day.

  This year we intend to do the same.

  At least, until we get on the coach and Ewan asks if we want to hang around with his group. The condition of the teachers leaving us alone on these school trips is that we stay in groups of at least three people and don’t wander off alone. I happen to know that Ewan’s group includes himself, Cole, Darren, and Lloyd. It’s not that I don’t want to hang around with Lloyd Layton. It’s just that I’m not sure Summerville Park is the best place to do so. It’s just a wild guess, but I bet Lloyd Layton is as into death defying rides as he is into sports and cars. I bet he wants to go on everything. Even that scary looking thing that drops you three hundred feet on a piece of string.

  Debs is about to say thanks but we’ll go around with Ceri and do the more sane things like look at fish in the aquarium, when I butt in and announce, “Sure, we’d love to.”

  “We would?” Debs hisses at me.

  “Look,” I say when Ewan has gone back to his own seat. “In five days time, I’m not going to see Lloyd for six whole weeks. I have to make some sort of effort here. I don’t want him to forget about me over the summer holidays.”

  “I don’t think anyone could forget about you, Chess.”

  I’m not sure whether I should take that as a compliment or not. “What harm can it do? At least we’ll have something pretty to look at.”

  “Funny, because I seem to remember climbing through a jungle the last time we had that particular pretty thing to look at.”

  When we arrive at the theme park, and stand in the car park for half an hour listening to a lecture from the teachers about safety, responsible behaviour, manners and the time to get back to the coach, we finally set off. Debs and I lag behind the group. They’re not exactly making us feel very welcome. I think it might have been Ewan’s idea to invite us. Lloyd has not so much as glanced at us. Darren looked but didn’t say anything. Cole gave us a dirty look and they all walked on ahead.

  “Let’s go on the ghost train,” I hear Ewan say. “It’s supposed to have had a makeover since last year. They reckon it’s really scary now.”

  Oh, thank God. The ghost train I can do. The ghost train is the most mundane ride here. It’s just a dark room full of plastic coalminers with rusty axes. They don’t even move. It’s not like there are skeletons popping out everywhere or green slime falling from the ceiling. In fact, it’s a pretty poor excuse for a ghost train. Even with a makeover, I’m sure the scariest thing about it is any spiders and other insects that may have chosen to live there.

  When we get to the ride however, I realise that Ewan is right. It has had a makeover, complete with green smoke and billowing black curtains.

  We all sit in an old-fashioned coal cart and set off through the dark tunnels. This is certainly different than it was last year. Way more scary. Not that I’m scared or anything, but there’s a rat in the bottom of our cart and I’m not sure whether it’s real or not.

  God, there’s fake people being stabbed and everything. Fake blood that squirts out onto the track. Bats. Ghosts that don’t even look like a person wearing a sheet anymore.

  I scream as a plastic bat hits me on the head.

  Everyone bursts out laughing.

  “It’s not funny. You should’ve chosen a decent ride… like the teacups. They’re fun.”

  “Yeah, if you’re five.” Lloyd laughs.

  “Could you be any more of a girl?” Darren asks.

  “Boo!” Lloyd grabs my shoulder and makes me jump out of my skin.

  I’m so mad at him that it doesn’t even register that Lloyd Layton just touched my shoulder. Making girls jump is not funny.

  That skeleton has eye sockets that follow you around. I jump again when it leaps from the wall and practically falls across the cart.

  I can’t wait to get off this ride.

  After jumping about sixty more times, we finally make it to the end and climb out.

  That was horrible.

  “Jeez, Chessie, I thought you were brave,” Ewan says helpfully.

  “I am,” I mutter.

  Great. Now Lloyd thinks I’m a wimp.

  Well, if I’m going to prove him wrong, this is the place to do it. Maybe I shouldn’t have jumped so much on that train, but I can still prove him wrong. Lloyd loves big, scary rides, and anything Lloyd can do, I can do too.

  There’s a rollercoaster. A big, frightening rollercoaster. One of the biggest rollercoasters in Europe. Lloyd and Darren are the only ones who want to go on it. Lloyd laughs and calls Ewan a wimp when he says he’d rather go and see the aquarium with Debs.

  This is a perfect opportunity to impress Lloyd Layton. Not that there is any part of me that actually wants to go on it, but I have to. He thinks I’m a loser after the ghost train, I have to impress him somehow.

  I don’t want to talk about the rollercoaster.

  Lets just say, I screamed. A lot. There may have been drool. It’s a good thing I hadn’t eaten lunch yet or there may have been vomit too.

  I think it was a mistake to hang around with Lloyd’s group today. Debs and I could have found a quiet corner and be sunbathing right now.

  There is, however, one ride I want to go on.

  The River Cascade.

  It’s a water slide. Okay, it’s a little high for my liking, but everyone who went on it last year raved about it, so I want to give it a go. Even Debs does.

  The boys say that this ride is too girly for them and wait behind the fence at the bottom.

  Except Ewan. He comes with us.

  The three of us get in a canoe together.

  I don’t want to talk about the River Cascade.

  Lets just say, I screamed. But not because of the height. Because of the water.

  Did I mention that today I chose to wear a white t-shirt and a white bra?

  I am soaked.

  I look like I’ve entered a wet t-shirt competition.

  You can see my boobs.

  Lloyd Layton can see my boobs.

  So can Darren, and he is laughing at me.

  It is not funny.

  It’s a relief to sit down for lunch.

  We sit on a patch of grass under a tree and pull our packed lunches out of our bags. Maybe it’ll give me time to dry off a bit. I don’t want to draw attention to them by checking but I’m almost positive you can see my nipples through this top.

  I don’t want to talk about lunch.

  Let’s just say, I screamed. Because of the bees. And the ants.

  I didn’t know there was an ants’ nest when I said that we should sit underneath the tree.

  I certainly didn’t know that
they were red ants.

  And how was I supposed to know that red ants are somewhat different from black ants in the fact that they bite?

  It’s not my fault that Leigh and two of her friends came along and sat down next to us, and it’s certainly not my fault that she took a bite out of her cream cake and then threw the rest at Debs and me.

  The food fight wasn’t my fault either, I swear. Just because I picked up a grape and lobbed it back at her does not make me a bad person. I was just sick of her always interrupting and picking on me. What gives her the right to throw a cream cake at us, and interrupt my time with Lloyd? She’s not interested in him though, it’s Ewan that she wants. I just don’t want to eat lunch with the class bully, lying in wait like a lion and watching all the time for me to slip up.

  I didn’t mean for the wasps to come. But when you have cream cake and sticky buns splattered everywhere, including a big jam stain in the very centre of your chest, they tend to do that.

  It’s not like I wanted anyone to get stung.

  Well, I wouldn’t have minded if it had been Leigh.

  It wasn’t. It was Lloyd.

  A wasp got him right on the back of his neck.

  I just hope he’s not allergic.

  And bees keep buzzing around me thanks to the jam on my t-shirt.

  Why didn’t I consider that I might get into a food fight with Leigh Marlow and bring a spare top?

  The day was pretty much ruined after the paramedics came. It turns out that Lloyd is very much allergic to wasp stings and started having trouble breathing. He had to be injected with adrenaline and ordered to take it easy for the rest of the day.

  After lunch, and a bollocking off the teachers for the food fight and endangering the life of a classmate, we went on the Pirate Ship.