one. And I’ll have given up by this time next week.’
‘Like I haven’t heard that before, Miss Ashtray Mouth. You know I only nag because I care.’
‘Hey, I got my driving test date through,’ she says, changing the subject. ‘My date with fate is 27 June! After that, I’m taking you on a road trip.’
I laugh. ‘Will you take your piercings out for the test? Examiners are very judgemental.’
Cara went to Brighton on Easter Monday and came back with rings through her nose and upper lip. ‘They don’t affect my ability to drive, do they?’ She opens her eyes again and
lights the roll-up. ‘Actually, I might take them out anyway. They keep catching on stuff.’
‘So they lasted, what, a month?’
‘Longer than most of my boyfriends,’ she says, and we collapse into giggles because it’s true.
When we stop laughing, she gives me a look . ‘You didn’t read the job description for being a teenager, did you, Ali?’
‘No. Never got the email.’
‘OK. Let me run you through it. We’re meant to get pointless piercings. Go out with pointless men. Have bad dye jobs.’ She pulls at her split ends, which are showing the
effects of five colours in as many weeks. ‘Wind up our parents. Live dangerously.’
I think of my close encounter in the car park. ‘Maybe my sister had enough danger for both of us.’
Cara blows out smoke in a steady stream and I wonder if she’s going to give me the same lecture Mum gives me, about not letting my life be blighted by Meggie’s death. ‘Perhaps
you were born square, Alice.’
‘Come on. That’s not fair. Just because I don’t smoke—’
‘You also don’t date bad boys, don’t bunk off school, don’t lie to your folks – I could go on for hours.’
Apart from the smoking, she’s wrong on every count . But I just say, ‘Maybe I’ll be responsible now, and wild when I’m older.’
She shakes her head. ‘No you won’t. It takes practice to be bad, Alice. Or . . .’ she smiles, ‘maybe just a very good teacher.’
‘Uh, oh.’
‘Maybe I should teach you to live a bit.’
‘What do you have in mind? I definitely don’t want a piercing.’
‘Nothing painful, or permanent. Just . . . averagely dangerous stuff. Limited rebellion. Small-scale misbehaviour. Probably quite a lot of drink. What do you say?’
We start to laugh and I realise I’ve really, really missed hanging out with her. The fact that she still wants to hang out with me after I’ve ignored her for so long
makes me feel so lucky.
‘You’re on.’
She leans forward and gives me a big sloppy kiss on the cheek. ‘Welcome back to wonderland, Alice. Fasten your seatbelt; it’s going to be a bumpy ride!’
A bumpier ride than today?
Yet despite my terror, nothing actually happened at the car park. Except I waited for a lift that was empty. I ran through the streets even though there might have been nothing behind me
but shadows.
Perhaps a crash course in normality from my best friend is exactly what I need to cure my paranoia.
Alice is the very prettiest prey.
But she needs to exercise more care to avoid her predators. Anyone might have seen her today, despite that dowdy coat and the horrible hair. There are people out there who are
less concerned for her welfare than me.
I don’t think she realises how closely she is coming to resemble Meggie. Her face has lost some of that chubbiness – from the grief, I suppose – and as her
eyes darken, her hair seems to lighten. It is almost as blonde now as her sister’s was, spread out on that pillow.
Though Alice’s hair still tangles. She should brush it more.
Is it also in the Forster DNA to be a heartbreaker? Meggie liked to play with people’s emotions.
I don’t believe Alice does it on purpose. It is just a fact that, sometimes, we cannot help ourselves.
17
It’s amazing how little sleep you need when you’re living a double life.
I grab an hour after school. Then another five between eleven p.m.
‘Like I haven’t heard that before, Miss Ashtray Mouth. You know I only nag because I care.’
‘Hey, I got my driving test date through,’ she says, changing the subject. ‘My date with fate is 27 June! After that, I’m taking you on a road trip.’
I laugh. ‘Will you take your piercings out for the test? Examiners are very judgemental.’
Cara went to Brighton on Easter Monday and came back with rings through her nose and upper lip. ‘They don’t affect my ability to drive, do they?’ She opens her eyes again and
lights the roll-up. ‘Actually, I might take them out anyway. They keep catching on stuff.’
‘So they lasted, what, a month?’
‘Longer than most of my boyfriends,’ she says, and we collapse into giggles because it’s true.
When we stop laughing, she gives me a look . ‘You didn’t read the job description for being a teenager, did you, Ali?’
‘No. Never got the email.’
‘OK. Let me run you through it. We’re meant to get pointless piercings. Go out with pointless men. Have bad dye jobs.’ She pulls at her split ends, which are showing the
effects of five colours in as many weeks. ‘Wind up our parents. Live dangerously.’
I think of my close encounter in the car park. ‘Maybe my sister had enough danger for both of us.’
Cara blows out smoke in a steady stream and I wonder if she’s going to give me the same lecture Mum gives me, about not letting my life be blighted by Meggie’s death. ‘Perhaps
you were born square, Alice.’
‘Come on. That’s not fair. Just because I don’t smoke—’
‘You also don’t date bad boys, don’t bunk off school, don’t lie to your folks – I could go on for hours.’
Apart from the smoking, she’s wrong on every count . But I just say, ‘Maybe I’ll be responsible now, and wild when I’m older.’
She shakes her head. ‘No you won’t. It takes practice to be bad, Alice. Or . . .’ she smiles, ‘maybe just a very good teacher.’
‘Uh, oh.’
‘Maybe I should teach you to live a bit.’
‘What do you have in mind? I definitely don’t want a piercing.’
‘Nothing painful, or permanent. Just . . . averagely dangerous stuff. Limited rebellion. Small-scale misbehaviour. Probably quite a lot of drink. What do you say?’
We start to laugh and I realise I’ve really, really missed hanging out with her. The fact that she still wants to hang out with me after I’ve ignored her for so long
makes me feel so lucky.
‘You’re on.’
She leans forward and gives me a big sloppy kiss on the cheek. ‘Welcome back to wonderland, Alice. Fasten your seatbelt; it’s going to be a bumpy ride!’
A bumpier ride than today?
Yet despite my terror, nothing actually happened at the car park. Except I waited for a lift that was empty. I ran through the streets even though there might have been nothing behind me
but shadows.
Perhaps a crash course in normality from my best friend is exactly what I need to cure my paranoia.
Alice is the very prettiest prey.
But she needs to exercise more care to avoid her predators. Anyone might have seen her today, despite that dowdy coat and the horrible hair. There are people out there who are
less concerned for her welfare than me.
I don’t think she realises how closely she is coming to resemble Meggie. Her face has lost some of that chubbiness – from the grief, I suppose – and as her
eyes darken, her hair seems to lighten. It is almost as blonde now as her sister’s was, spread out on that pillow.
Though Alice’s hair still tangles. She should brush it more.
Is it also in the Forster DNA to be a heartbreaker? Meggie liked to play with people’s emotions.
I don’t believe Alice does it on purpose. It is just a fact that, sometimes, we cannot help ourselves.
17
It’s amazing how little sleep you need when you’re living a double life.
I grab an hour after school. Then another five between eleven p.m.
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