my sock and come over to the balcony, which overlooks the living room. They are looking out of the window. I jump down the ladder and run over. Granny is waving at someone who
I only glimpse as he disappears behind a hedge – there is a hedge between this house and next door, he’s not hiding. I didn’t see much, but I did see black curly hair, tanned skin
and a
vest
.
Rosie smiles at me and I return it. I remember when she also brought cupcakes round to my house when my grandpa died. I wish she wasn’t so nice. It makes me feel awful for suspecting her
last night. And still now.
Granny sees us all lined up at the window as she turns back from the gate. She waves and grins at us, apparently not questioning what we are doing. The others scatter and look busy with
breakfast and I open the door for her.
‘Goodness! I am
shagged
!’ she says, sitting on the sofa to undo her trainers.
I feel my mouth drop open. The other two are trying to look interested in their mugs of tea, but Rosie snorts.
Soon we are standing on the platform at Waterloo and getting ready to wave them off.
They might have stayed another night, but Rosie has some family thing and Nish is going on some luxurious Istanbul trip with her dad and his girlfriend. Since Nish’s dad left her mum, he
always takes her somewhere awesome and she’s allowed to bring Effie along, all expenses paid. It’s balanced out by them having to hang out with her dad’s girlfriend’s evil
twin twelve-year-old boys, Jupiter and Jacobi. When he took them to Florida, Nish was majorly annoyed when they didn’t go to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter because the twins said it was
a ‘stupid children’s book’.
I didn’t tell her that I haven’t technically read them either – I listened to the audiobooks with Max but I kept falling asleep and never found out who the monster was or where
they hid the thing. It definitely would have been
much
better if her dad had just given her the money and she’d taken us instead, though he didn’t agree when I told him that.
Me and Granny hug them both and I wish Nish luck on her holiday. Rosie catches my eye like she’s going to say something, but then she doesn’t and steps onto the train behind
Nish.
We were watching one of my teen drama box sets, which Max was really scornful of when his mates were around, but he secretly really loved. It was probably
Dawson’s
Creek
that we got from Han’s older sister – that was one of our faves.
I was supposed to be doing my English homework – a piece of creative writing – but every time the credits came up I kept saying
,
‘One more episode!’ Mum, Dad
and Millie were out at parents’ evening anyway so no one would check up on me. Then Max took control.
‘Babe, I won’t be allowed to stay round any more if you don’t do your work.’ He pushed my notepad towards me and handed me a pen.
I rolled my eyes. ‘Fine!’ I went over to my laptop. ‘I’m just going to do some research
. . .
’ I checked Max couldn’t see my screen and went to open
up Facebook
,
but the browser was blank. ‘Hey!’
‘I turned the router off,’ he said without even looking up. He was scribbling in his rap lyric book. ‘Can I call you Gaybie? I can’t think of anything that rhymes with
Gabi except scabby.’
‘Or stabby,’ I muttered darkly. ‘I don’t even know what to write about.’
He gave me a look like it was obvious. ‘Do something like
Dawson’s
– like a couple or a love triangle or something.’
‘It’s meant to be literaturey. I’m supposed to do all long words and write about death or describe some leaves in a way that is actually talking about death.’
‘Lots of literature is about love.
Romeo and Juliet. Pride and Prejudice. The Notebook.’
I definitely heard Max’s voice break a bit when he said
The Notebook.
He cried for a whole hour more than I did when we watched it.
He slid over to me on the sofa and put his arms around me.
I only glimpse as he disappears behind a hedge – there is a hedge between this house and next door, he’s not hiding. I didn’t see much, but I did see black curly hair, tanned skin
and a
vest
.
Rosie smiles at me and I return it. I remember when she also brought cupcakes round to my house when my grandpa died. I wish she wasn’t so nice. It makes me feel awful for suspecting her
last night. And still now.
Granny sees us all lined up at the window as she turns back from the gate. She waves and grins at us, apparently not questioning what we are doing. The others scatter and look busy with
breakfast and I open the door for her.
‘Goodness! I am
shagged
!’ she says, sitting on the sofa to undo her trainers.
I feel my mouth drop open. The other two are trying to look interested in their mugs of tea, but Rosie snorts.
Soon we are standing on the platform at Waterloo and getting ready to wave them off.
They might have stayed another night, but Rosie has some family thing and Nish is going on some luxurious Istanbul trip with her dad and his girlfriend. Since Nish’s dad left her mum, he
always takes her somewhere awesome and she’s allowed to bring Effie along, all expenses paid. It’s balanced out by them having to hang out with her dad’s girlfriend’s evil
twin twelve-year-old boys, Jupiter and Jacobi. When he took them to Florida, Nish was majorly annoyed when they didn’t go to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter because the twins said it was
a ‘stupid children’s book’.
I didn’t tell her that I haven’t technically read them either – I listened to the audiobooks with Max but I kept falling asleep and never found out who the monster was or where
they hid the thing. It definitely would have been
much
better if her dad had just given her the money and she’d taken us instead, though he didn’t agree when I told him that.
Me and Granny hug them both and I wish Nish luck on her holiday. Rosie catches my eye like she’s going to say something, but then she doesn’t and steps onto the train behind
Nish.
We were watching one of my teen drama box sets, which Max was really scornful of when his mates were around, but he secretly really loved. It was probably
Dawson’s
Creek
that we got from Han’s older sister – that was one of our faves.
I was supposed to be doing my English homework – a piece of creative writing – but every time the credits came up I kept saying
,
‘One more episode!’ Mum, Dad
and Millie were out at parents’ evening anyway so no one would check up on me. Then Max took control.
‘Babe, I won’t be allowed to stay round any more if you don’t do your work.’ He pushed my notepad towards me and handed me a pen.
I rolled my eyes. ‘Fine!’ I went over to my laptop. ‘I’m just going to do some research
. . .
’ I checked Max couldn’t see my screen and went to open
up Facebook
,
but the browser was blank. ‘Hey!’
‘I turned the router off,’ he said without even looking up. He was scribbling in his rap lyric book. ‘Can I call you Gaybie? I can’t think of anything that rhymes with
Gabi except scabby.’
‘Or stabby,’ I muttered darkly. ‘I don’t even know what to write about.’
He gave me a look like it was obvious. ‘Do something like
Dawson’s
– like a couple or a love triangle or something.’
‘It’s meant to be literaturey. I’m supposed to do all long words and write about death or describe some leaves in a way that is actually talking about death.’
‘Lots of literature is about love.
Romeo and Juliet. Pride and Prejudice. The Notebook.’
I definitely heard Max’s voice break a bit when he said
The Notebook.
He cried for a whole hour more than I did when we watched it.
He slid over to me on the sofa and put his arms around me.
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