you, you probably have a lot to offer.
Don’t betray Jamie again.
Try to find confidence in yourself without taking what he has. Forget about the girl. Your friendship is worth more than that. From one teen to another …
Miss Take-Control-of-Your-Life
Pete appeared in my mind—I could feel his skin against mine, his lips on my mouth. Thinking about him made me wince. Lying to Griffin and to everyone about Pete had turned me into … into someone I didn’t recognize.
At least now I knew it had meant nothing to him. A week had gone by but Pete hadn’t spoken to me or even looked in my direction; he hadn’t texted, hadn’t called. My secret played large in my head. Cleo had no idea, and I couldn’t figure out how to tell her—she was my best friend, but the thought of voicing what I’d done made me feel more guilty.
Griffin met me at school every day and neither of us mentioned the sex thing, even though the whole issue stood between us like a giant. Or maybe the real issue was that
I’d kissed someone else.
I focused on being Miss Take-Control-of-Your-Life as I flicked through the pages of my site. I landed on the Top Tips section and typed in:
TOP TIP 7: SECRETS BREED LIES
Mum came into the room and, automatically, I minimized the screen.
“What are you doing?”
“Homework. You know.”
She nodded but didn’t seem to be listening.
“You should knock,” I said.
“Yeah. And you should keep it clean in here.”
She was distracted, not even looking at me. For weeks she’d been grumpy and unpredictable; hormones and menopause or whatever.
Her pale eyes darted left and right, clearly surveying the mess. She snapped, “Bird, I mean it. Tidy up.”
“Okay, relax.”
“When did you get so slovenly? You’re as tidy as I am, normally.” She picked up a couple of books and put them next to me on the desk.
“Mum, I’ll clean it up, all right? I’ve just got a lot on. I don’t know, it just got away from me. It’s like the first time ever. I promise it’ll be tidy by the end of the day.”
She stopped and gave me a quizzical look, her fair eyebrows furrowing together. “You have no idea, do you?”
“What?”
My phone beeped on the desk. A text flashed up.
Thinking about me? Pete
Mum leaned forward, blatantly looking at the lit-up screen of my phone. “Who’s Pete?”
I spun round in my chair. “God, Mum, don’t read my texts.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. Anyway, he’s no one. Just someone who I’m doing a project with. Look, do you want something?” Pete’s text felt like a code for the fact
he
was thinking about
me.
Which made no sense—he hadn’t
spoken
to me all week.
She blinked a couple of times. “You know, I spent so long wishing for another baby that I wonder if I did a good enough job of being your mum. Did I?”
I concentrated on what she was saying. “What are you talking about?”
She spoke softly. “You should have another quotation on your board:
Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.
Mahatma Gandhi.”
“Mum, what do you mean about the baby? What’s going on?”
Her eyes moistened. She kissed me on the top of my head.
“Don’t worry about it now, darling. Just get back to work. Perhaps when you’ve got some time, I could take some photos of you, like we used to.”
“Sure. Is everything okay?”
But she was already on her way out the room and she didn’t reply.
IT WAS LIKE MY ROOM WAS A STATION THAT EVENING AND MY PARENTS had trains to catch. After Mum left, Dad wandered in.
“Hey, Birdy,” he said.
“What is this? Parents-Gone-Mad Day?”
“Just seeing how my sweet Bird is.”
“Uh, trying to do homework.”
“Right. I’m going for a run.”
I burst out laughing. “What sort of run?”
“I want to do an Iron Man. It’s not funny.”
Wow. He was being serious. I thought,
Why don’t you try running to the end of the road first?
But I didn’t say anything. He was so busy
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