Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
MOLLIE
All week, I’d been waiting for the results to come out. First, they said it was going to be Wednesday, then Thursday, then it was Friday morning and I got a text from Amelia to say they were definitely going to be out today.
My stomach flipped over in anticipation. Since I’d started at the school, I’d wanted to be on the school council. No one knows this, but I’ve kept a notebook with everything I’ve ever achieved – hockey captain, academic colours, test scores – so that I had a list of things ready to put on my application when I got to that stage. Plus, I’ve helped out at every school event that asked for volunteers, I always hand in my homework early and I’ve never ever had a detention.
Dad was fiddling with his mid-life crisis coffee machine when I got downstairs and he glanced up at me. ‘All ready for school? I can drop you on my way to work if you like?’
He doesn’t know that I applied to be on the school council. Neither does Mum. I nearly told her on the phone last night. She was asking about school and how things were going. I gave her the usual reply – ‘It’s fine, nothing new’ – and crossed my fingers that there would be news today. If she’d asked again, pushed a little more, I might’ve told her. But immediately she moved on to telling me about Ben and how well he was getting on at his school. As she talked, I imagined coming home with the school council badge on display on my uniform, waiting for her amazement that I’d been selected when she knew nothing about it.
Dad was still looking at me, waiting for an answer. ‘No, I’m fine thanks. I want to walk in with Amelia.’ I grabbed a pastry from the cupboard and let him pull me in to kiss the top of my head before the hiss of the machine made us both jump.
Amelia met me halfway between our houses and she threaded her arm through mine. ‘I bet you’ve got it. You’re so clever, they’re bound to have picked you.’
Was it bad that I thought she was right? I’d never have admitted that to anyone. No one likes a girl who pushes herself forward, do they? I had to pretend not to care about it when I did. I really, really did. ‘No, it’ll be you. All your sports and drama stuff. It’ll be you.’
We practically ran into the school gates to find the results that’d been posted on the student news noticeboard. I was so nervous for the result. I know that everyone thinks that school is easy for me because I get high marks. But I have to work so hard to stay at the top. Whenever we have a test, everyone in my class expects me to get the highest score. No one even says well done anymore. But if I slip up? Everyone is there for it.
Except Amelia. She gets it. She knows how much I work. Which is why it hit me so hard when we saw the list of school councillors, scanning the list until we got to her name. Amelia had been selected.
Within moments, a small crowd was wishing her well. Telling her congratulations. I just stood there, like an idiot. Frozen to the spot.
I know that I should be happy for her. She’s my best friend. What does it say about me that I was so jealous that I just wanted to stamp my feet and cry? What does she have that I don’t? My grades are better. I work harder. Is it because she’s much prettier than me? She has this perfect smile and great skin and her eyelashes look like she’s curled them even when she hasn’t. She’ll look great in all the photos that go up in reception. Better than I would.
Of course, I pretended to be happy for her. I grinned like a loon and hugged her and bit into the side of my cheek to stop myself crying. I don’t think anyone realised how awful I felt inside. It was such a relief when Luca arrived. His smile made me feel a little better. He must’ve realised how disappointed I was as he whispered in my ear, ‘They should’ve chosen you.’ I’m so glad I have him. At least I am someone’s favourite.
When I got home that night, Dad was already there. He was distracted about something, waiting for a phone call, he said. I wanted to make a call myself. To Mum. However preoccupied she was, I knew that she’d understand how I felt about the school council. Once I’d got changed out of my uniform, I planned to go downstairs and get a snack, then call her.
Fifteen minutes later, I had my foot on the top stair, about to go and see what was in the fridge, when I heard Dad on his phone. Something in his tone made me pause, hold my breath. Listen. And what I heard changed my mind about everything. From then on, Mum was the last person I wanted to talk to.