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Authors: Cecily Anne Paterson
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again.”
I hardly trusted what might come out of my mouth, so I kept it closed and nodded quickly again. Lise was still holding her hand up, examining her nails and without even thinking I shot a quick glance towards her fingertips. If her nail polish wasn’t pink, then what was it? Tiger Lily, impatient as always, saw my look and decided to inform me.
“It’s greige,” she said, looking up into the sky and away from me. “And before you have to ask what greige is, it’s grey and beige. You have to read magazines to keep up with things you know.”
“Oh, right, I know,” I said. My head was still going on a furious nod. I felt like a little Happy Meal toy. Boing boing boing .
Saffron leaned over to me again.
“I think your nails would look great in greige,” she said. “Show me.”
I held out my hand and she had a look at my fingers.
“Wow, great shape and great length,” she said. “For nails that you’ve obviously done yourself, they’re pretty good. Imagine what they’ll look like when you get a proper manicure!” She looked up at me. “I presume you’ll be getting one soon, right?”
My mouth felt like it was about to blabber and stumble again but I managed to get control. “Yeah, of course. This is just my emergency polish.”
I could see Tiger Lily take a breath to speak again and was just about to duck my head when, like a sudden cool breeze on a boiling hot day, the bell went and I was saved.
I walked to maths telling myself to pull it together.
“Don’t be such a loser, Coco. Get hold of yourself. You can do this.”
I took some breaths and calmed down, opened my books and then spent the next 50 minutes pretending to listen to fractions and decimals while actually I was thinking about something way more important—the lies I was going to tell and the stories I was going to spin about why I was going away.
Chapter 10
Samantha and I waited a few more days before I spilled the beans.
First we needed to do our research. I couldn’t just invent an equestrian boarding school in another state one morning and expect everyone to believe me. I could be found out in a second if someone Googled it on their phone under their desks in history.
We couldn’t believe it when we discovered Lamerton Grammar for Girls. Not only was it interstate, horse crazy and a boarding school, it also had a rural (read: in the middle of nowhere) campus where, according to the website, Year Eight girls went to grow their own food, live without technology, learn to run a farm and excel at horsemanship. Apparently all of this was so that they would ‘build character’.
It sounded completely revolting.
“Honestly, like, who needs character?” said Sam. She grimaced and then checked the mirror. “I really shouldn’t do that. It’s going to make lines on my face,” she said, smoothing out her cheek. “Look, can you see a wrinkle starting? Seriously though. Give a girl a manicure, a good haircut and some bronzer and she’s good to go. No character required.”
“I know, right? In real life—you know, out in the real world—it’s probably more useful to have a good wardrobe than to have character,” I said. “ So glad I’m not going to that school. Maybe there actually is something worse than going to live on a pig farm with my family.”
I laughed, but Sam didn’t get the joke. She raised her eyebrows. “No. There’s not. And let me tell you, unless you can convince Tiger Lily that you’re telling the truth about this Lamerton Grammar thing, you are going to be dropped into a big pile of pig poo. There won’t be any ‘character’ that will be able to rescue you. You’d better make this thing stick.”
“I wish there was a character who was going to rescue me,” I said, groaning. “Do you realise that we’re probably going to be gone before I even get to meet Darcy?”
“That’s such bad timing,” said Sam. “Why did he have to go skiing for so
I hardly trusted what might come out of my mouth, so I kept it closed and nodded quickly again. Lise was still holding her hand up, examining her nails and without even thinking I shot a quick glance towards her fingertips. If her nail polish wasn’t pink, then what was it? Tiger Lily, impatient as always, saw my look and decided to inform me.
“It’s greige,” she said, looking up into the sky and away from me. “And before you have to ask what greige is, it’s grey and beige. You have to read magazines to keep up with things you know.”
“Oh, right, I know,” I said. My head was still going on a furious nod. I felt like a little Happy Meal toy. Boing boing boing .
Saffron leaned over to me again.
“I think your nails would look great in greige,” she said. “Show me.”
I held out my hand and she had a look at my fingers.
“Wow, great shape and great length,” she said. “For nails that you’ve obviously done yourself, they’re pretty good. Imagine what they’ll look like when you get a proper manicure!” She looked up at me. “I presume you’ll be getting one soon, right?”
My mouth felt like it was about to blabber and stumble again but I managed to get control. “Yeah, of course. This is just my emergency polish.”
I could see Tiger Lily take a breath to speak again and was just about to duck my head when, like a sudden cool breeze on a boiling hot day, the bell went and I was saved.
I walked to maths telling myself to pull it together.
“Don’t be such a loser, Coco. Get hold of yourself. You can do this.”
I took some breaths and calmed down, opened my books and then spent the next 50 minutes pretending to listen to fractions and decimals while actually I was thinking about something way more important—the lies I was going to tell and the stories I was going to spin about why I was going away.
Chapter 10
Samantha and I waited a few more days before I spilled the beans.
First we needed to do our research. I couldn’t just invent an equestrian boarding school in another state one morning and expect everyone to believe me. I could be found out in a second if someone Googled it on their phone under their desks in history.
We couldn’t believe it when we discovered Lamerton Grammar for Girls. Not only was it interstate, horse crazy and a boarding school, it also had a rural (read: in the middle of nowhere) campus where, according to the website, Year Eight girls went to grow their own food, live without technology, learn to run a farm and excel at horsemanship. Apparently all of this was so that they would ‘build character’.
It sounded completely revolting.
“Honestly, like, who needs character?” said Sam. She grimaced and then checked the mirror. “I really shouldn’t do that. It’s going to make lines on my face,” she said, smoothing out her cheek. “Look, can you see a wrinkle starting? Seriously though. Give a girl a manicure, a good haircut and some bronzer and she’s good to go. No character required.”
“I know, right? In real life—you know, out in the real world—it’s probably more useful to have a good wardrobe than to have character,” I said. “ So glad I’m not going to that school. Maybe there actually is something worse than going to live on a pig farm with my family.”
I laughed, but Sam didn’t get the joke. She raised her eyebrows. “No. There’s not. And let me tell you, unless you can convince Tiger Lily that you’re telling the truth about this Lamerton Grammar thing, you are going to be dropped into a big pile of pig poo. There won’t be any ‘character’ that will be able to rescue you. You’d better make this thing stick.”
“I wish there was a character who was going to rescue me,” I said, groaning. “Do you realise that we’re probably going to be gone before I even get to meet Darcy?”
“That’s such bad timing,” said Sam. “Why did he have to go skiing for so
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