Read Online Dreaming of Amelia by Jaclyn Moriarty - Free Book Online Page A

of iniquity, violence, vandalism, drug abuse, knife wars, and no doubt extensive gun possession. At the very least, it is a public school with students who dress badly.
    So, my face took on a ghastly paleness when Mr Botherit told us to write to it.
    But I did as he commanded, and perchance! I met the only wonderful boy at Brookfield! His name was Charlie and he became my boyfriend.
    Another perchance! Lydia wrote to the only other great guy at Brookfield. His name was Seb, and although he was kind of a bad Brookfield boy himself, still, he had a golden heart, and you will guess that
Seb
became Lyd’s boyfriend.
    And you will be right.
    Meanwhile, poor Cass wrote to the devil himself. But that is another gothic story.
    Okay, so let us hasten through times which need no analysis. Charlie and I decided to break up at the start of Year 11, so that we could stretch our legs and kiss other people. Or at least, so that I could. I didn’t want him kissing anybody else, and I was quite frank about my preference that our break be one-dimensional. He gave me quite a look and it was manysplendoured, that look. It meant that you can’t have your bed and make it too. If you eat a cake, lie in it. Hmm. You know what I mean.
    Anyhow, Lyd’s relationship with Seb rode the waves of Year 11.
    But at the
end
of Year 11? At the start of the summer holidays? A shock in the face for Lyd.
    Seb broke up with her.
    Now, this was a surprise for
all
of us because Lydia has always been the breaker-upper. She is the kind of girl who leaves behind a trail of shattered hearts. Nothing of this kind had befallen her!
    So, but anyway, now it was the present day and Lydia had run into Seb at a petrol station! And
she had found out who Riley and Amelia were.
    They were from our very neighbourhood! Regular public school students!
    And yet, how could this
be
?!
    Lydia was talking.
    â€˜I’m thinking maybe I’ll
join
something this year,’ she was saying. ‘Like the yearbook committee or, I don’t know, sign up for a school musical. Does our school even do musicals? I’m thinking it’s time to participate.’
    Well, that was preposterous enough.
    Lydia has never done anything participatory in her entire life. But far more preposterous was the idea that she could be trying to change the subject.
    â€˜They’re from
Brookfield
?’ I gasped.
    And then, before my very eyes?
    It was they.
    We were walking by the teachers’ parking lot at this point. Across the lot, I could see one of the sports teachers hurrying along — and Riley and Amelia were following. The teacher had her keys out ready to open her car.
    Lyd and I became silent. The trio across the parking lot were themselves eerily quiet. Their footsteps made a subdued scuff-scuff along the asphalt.
    I felt a strange surge of emotion, watching them.
    Could it be true? Were Amelia and Riley just Brookfielders: innocent, everyday, truanting, badly dressed Brookfielders?
    â€˜I give them six months,’ Lydia murmured.
    At first, I thought she meant they would not last at Ashbury.
    Then something made me turn a sharp eye. ‘You think they’re going to break up?’ I whispered.
    Lyd didn’t speak. We were almost upon them.
    Within a moment, we were passing close by the passenger side of the car. The sports teacher was already behind thewheel, pulling on her seatbelt. Riley was in the front passenger seat, and Amelia was directly behind him. Neither had yet closed their doors.
    As we passed they both paused, hands on the door handles, and glanced at us.
    I looked away quickly, ready to hurry on.
    Then, behind me —
    â€˜Hey,’ said Lydia. ‘Good luck at the Zones.’
    She said it at just the right distance from the car. She said it in just the right way: cool, almost indifferent, yet genuine too.
    And then she smiled her Lydia smile.
    I cannot explain the Lydia smile, except to say that I love it.
    It seems like a