Read Online Love and Other Drama-Ramas! by Sarah Webb - Free Book Online

(The Crombies have obviously been dousing themselves as usual.) There’s a queue snaking outside one of the Georgian buildings to the left, so we weave our way in and out of the crush toward it. The sign on the wall says “ NEW STUDENT REGISTRATION. ” Bingo!
    Luckily the queue is moving quickly, and within minutes we find ourselves inside, where we join another busy queue to the right, marked “ ARTS. ” The building is ancient, with huge wooden doors like a church and a soaring ceiling covered in fancy plasterwork. It smells of old wood and is pretty intimidating.
    I look at Clover, all ready to give a low, impressed whistle, but her eyes are fixed ahead, to where Mountie Amber is posing for her ID photo. “One second, please,” she is telling the photographer. She shakes back her hair and smacks her lips together to redistribute her gloss. “Right, you can proceed . . .”
    After the picture’s been taken, she holds out her hand. “Obviously I’ll need to approve it.”
    The photographer is so stunned, she passes it over without a word. Amber takes a look. “That will be fine,” she says, handing it back and moving toward the registration desk, where a man looks up at her through half-moon glasses. “Name, please,” he says, sounding tired and bored.
    “Amber Horsefell.”
    “Subjects?”
    “English and history of art.”
    He ticks her off the list. “You can collect your student ID from the desk at the back wall in a few minutes.”
    “Thank you,” Amber says primly with another flick of her hair.
    “Did you hear that?” Clover hisses at me. “English and history of art. There’s a Mountie in both my subjects. Help, Amy!” She clutches my arm.
    At the sound of Clover’s voice, Amber spins round. “I heard that.” She looks Clover up and down. “Newtown High? No, not scruffy enough. Weston Park. Nah, too quirky.” She narrows her eyes and then smiles. “I’ve got it: Saint John’s. I can spot a Saint John’s girl anywhere. You think you’re so hip and original, but you have such burning Mountie envy, it eats you up inside, like a parasitic worm.”
    I wait for Clover to fight back — give Amber a good tongue lashing — but she’s gone mute. I’ll have to say something instead.
    “Mountie envy?” I snort. “You have got to be—”
    “How darling,” Amber says to Clover, cutting me off. “You brought along a Mini-Me to keep you company. No friends your own age. Saddo.” And with a toss of her mane, she sashays away while Clover stares down at the floor.
    “You OK?” I ask her.
    She nods but she’s biting her lip, and I can tell she’s not herself.
    “Once I’ve registered, I have to grab some paperwork from the English department and then I’m outta here,” she says quietly.
    “But I thought we were going to stick around, check out a few of the stands.”
    “Changed my mind.”
    “But, Clover—”
    “Just leave it, Beanie. Tell you what, while I get my ID card and collect my schedule, why don’t you have a look around. I’ll meet you over by that funny-looking brass thing in ten minutes, OK?” She points toward the far end of the square.
    “Clover, that’s a very valuable Henry Moore sculpture! And it’s bronze, not brass.”
    She shakes her head, smiling. “You’re such a culture vulture, Beanie. See you in a mo’.”
    As she heads away, I walk back outside into the thick of the crowd, picking my way down the stands. Everyone seems to be shouting.
    “Join the Sailing Club,” a cute blond boy yells in my ear, nearly deafening me.
    “Free foot massage at the Yoga Club,” a girl in a fluffy bumblebee scarf bellows, making me jump.
    I walk back, away from the stands to get a bit of space and so I can read the banners above the tables: Hockey. Chess. Yoga. Scuba Diving. Judo. Photography. Science Fiction. Comedy.
An Cumann Gaelach
. Juggling. Juggling?
    The whole cobbled square is buzzing, and I’m so disappointed Clover isn’t in the mood to hang out.