Read Online The Yearbook Committee by Sarah Ayoub - Free Book Online

step up and stop this meeting being a waste of time. He says that he can’t force people to get along. Then she says he’s not the man for the job.
    *    The bell rings. No one listens as Ryan calls out the next meeting time. Including me. (Was trying to work up courage to ask Matty about hoodie. Decided against it.)
    Action Points:
    *    Note to self: Bring snacks to next meeting. Food makes everyone happy.
    *    Remind Matty that, as the only ART art student, he needs to get the camera from Mr Murdoch and show Charlie how to use it. Charlie seems aware of this and is currently following him outside.
    ----
    Â 

Tammi
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Tammi Kap is listening to ‘Girls Just Want to Have Fun’. When Cyndi Lauper talks about boys hiding beautiful girls away, I want to pump up the volume. Because I totes want to be a girl who walks in the sun.

    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Lauren Pappas Old school, I like it.

    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Manda Panda Love that song! We should watch the movie one night!
    I hurry through the park, trying to make it back to the bus stop before the rain starts. Gosh, I can’t believe I let that woman wrangle an extra half-hour out of me without paying me any extra cash.
    I stop for a moment to catch my breath, then look at the time. Shit. I’m going to miss the bus. That means I’m going to have to wait an extra eighteen minutes for the next bus, in the rain, and I’ll be home half an hour late, which means Mum and Dad will beat me home and I won’t be able to sneak my gear upstairs without someone noticing.
    I try to think of ways I can tell Dad about this job. I’d need to be tough about it, and for all the cons that would inevitably come from being honest, the one big pro would be that I would no longer need to lie. Maybe he’d even contribute something to my savings fund.
    As if , I think, given that my father is the least supportive of my career aspirations.
    I sit on the bus-stop bench and put my large canvas bag on my lap. Sixteen minutes until the bus arrives. Plenty of time to think up a plausible excuse for my tardiness, but a man arrives and decides to start a conversation, and suddenly my brainstorming has to wait.
    â€˜You got some change on ya, love?’ he asks.
    â€˜Um, I’ll have a look,’ I reply, feeling sorry for him.
    I turn myself slightly to the side and burrow through my bag for my wallet, but I don’t have much change, not even a five-dollar note. I fish out what coins I have — a one-dollar coin and a few pieces of small silver — and hand them to him.
    â€˜That’s all I can spare, sorry,’ I explain apologetically.
    â€˜What about that tenner?’ he asks, unashamed. I look at him blankly. Since when did people stop being thankful for any charity they got? Judging by his attitude, this man didn’t need the money, he just wanted it. The woman from work’s face comes back to me and I realise she had also taken advantage of me, even if her strategy was a bit more subtle.
    I wish I could just disappear, if only to save myself from the stench of cigarettes and beer.
    â€˜You know what?’ I say, standing up. ‘I think I’ll just ring a friend to come get me.’
    I rifle through my bag for my phone and dial David’s number.
    â€˜Hey, baby,’ he answers drowsily. ‘Whatcha doing?’
    â€˜Are you asleep?’ I ask. ‘It’s 1 p.m.’
    â€˜Yeah, Ryan and I had a late night,’ he explains.
    â€˜Are you busy?’
    â€˜Why, are you OK?’
    â€˜I’m fine,’ I assure him. ‘Just in Burwood. Hoping you could come pick me up, save me from waiting for the bus, which will take forever. I need to get back home before Mum and Dad, so I can hide the stuff in my room.’
    â€˜Ahh, I don’t know, babe,’ he says. ‘It’s no big deal, just tell them the