Over the Moon

What cheek! Like all I think about are clothes, and hair, and make-up. I think about loads of other things! I said this to Mum, and she said, “Like what, for instance?” and I said

“Well, boys, for a start. Didn’t you used to think about boys?” Dad fell about laughing. He said, “She’s got you there!” Mum just said, “Hm”.

She pretended to be amused, but I could tell she was wishing that Dad wouldn’t get all jokey when she wanted to be serious. I don’t know what the matter is with Mum just lately, she’s no fun at all. She is becoming really crotchety. Me and Dad, we laugh and fool around the whole time. Everything with Mum is like some big deal. She doesn’t seem to have any sense of humour any more. Dad only has to make some totally harmless little joke, like he did the other day, about how women ought to stay home and look after their men instead of having ideas “above their station”, and she flies at him like a wildcat. It was only a JOKE, for heaven’s sake! I just don’t know what’s got into her.

That was what I wrote way back last September. Only ten months ago, but it seems like for ever. Reading through my diary is like delving into ancient history. Not that I keep a real proper diary; I don’t fill in all the pages. Just now and then, when I feel inspired, I’ll pick up a pen and jot things down. I personally consider that I do quite enough writing as it is, what with school all day and homework half the night. I wouldn’t have the patience to do more than just scribble the odd few sentences.

Unlike Hattie, who has an actual blog. She spends hours on the computer, setting down her thoughts. She writes these whole long screeds, all about the current political situation and the state of the world. I guess I am more interested in the state of my emotions. I certainly wouldn’t want to go putting them on the computer for everyone to read. No way! I would shrivel up and die.

Not even Hattie is allowed to see what I write in my diary. When we were younger we never used to have secrets from each other; we took a vow that we would tell each other everything. But the older you get, the more private you get, or at least that is how it seems to me. I surely can’t be the only one to keep my innermost thoughts and feelings locked away inside myself? Mostly it’s because I’d be embarrassed if I were to tell anyone, but also, maybe, sometimes, it’s because I’d be a bit ashamed. I mean, some of the things I think … I know they are not worthy. Like this that I wrote about Tanya Hoskins:

That girl is so PASTRY-faced. How can anyone say she’s pretty??? She looks like she’s made out of dough!

Raging jealousy, that’s all it was. I’ve always been jealous of Tanya, right from when we started in Year 7.

I knew immediately that she was going to be my rival. Cos she is pretty, in spite of being pale. I was used to being the prettiest one! I always was, in Juniors. I am not saying this to boast; it just happens to be true. Like Hattie was always the cleverest, and Janice McNiece was the best at games. There is no point in denying these things, you have to accept them. What I couldn’t accept was that some people might think Tanya Hoskins was as pretty as I was. Not prettier; no one could have said she was prettier. But as pretty. Oh, this is so hateful! This is what I mean about being ashamed. But I am trying very hard to face up to myself and be truthful. I’m just telling it like it was.

Like it was: I couldn’t bear the thought of Tanya being selected for the Founder’s Day Dinner and Dance and not me!

There: I said it. That is how petty I was. Of course, I didn’t tell Hattie. What I told Hattie was that I really really really really wanted to be selected, “Just to show Mum.”

Hattie said, “Really?” I said, “Really, really!”

“Dunno how you’re going to swing that,” said Hattie. Neither did I; that was the problem. The Dinner and Dance is a big thing at our school, Dame Elizabeth’s. It only happens once every five years, and only a handful of people are selected from each year group, usually five boys and five girls. The way they’re chosen is strictly on merit marks – which I didn’t happen to have any of. Well, I think I’d picked up about four in the whole of my first year. Hattie, needless to say, got them by the bucket load. Mainly academic ones, since Hattie just happens to have this mega-size brain. Tanya Hoskins has a brain of more ordinary proportions, but she is one of those irritating people who applies herself. (A term much favoured by teachers, at our school at any rate. I always got end-of-term reports saying that I did not apply myself.)

“So how do you think you’re going to do it?” said Hattie. She is always very down to earth. Not to mention blunt.

I said hopefully, “I could try mending my ways.”

“Well, you could,” said Hattie. “But there’s an awful lot of them to mend!”

I begged her not to be so negative. “You’re supposed to be helping me!”

“Why?” said Hattie.

“Because you’re my friend! And we do things together. How could you possibly go without me?”

“What makes you think I will be going?” said Hattie.

I told her that she was bound to be selected. “You and Tanya; you’ll both be selected. You know you will!”

“I don’t know anything,” said Hattie. “And if you want to go as badly as all that, why not wait for one of the boys to invite you? Cos you know that they will!”

She meant one of the boys who got selected. I said, “I want to be the one to do the inviting! Plus there isn’t a single solitary boy that I’d want to go with. Not in our year, at any rate.”

“So who would you invite?”

I said, “I don’t know! I’ll think about that later. What’s important is being selected. And that’s what I need your help for!”

“Don’t see what I’m s’pposed to do,” said Hattie; but she agreed, in the end, to give me the benefit of her advice. “Provided you listen.”

“I will, I will!” I said. “Look at me … I’m listening!”

“Right, then,” said Hattie. “Let’s get started. Let’s make a list!”

I said, “List of what?”

“All those areas where you need to improve! Get a pen. Write it down!”

Meekly, I did so. “Improvements”, I wrote.

No.1 Work

No.2 Behaviour

No.3 Attitude

No.4 Punctuality

No.5 Team spirit.

Somewhat daunting, I think you will agree!

“Let’s take them one by one,” said Hattie. She has this very orderly sort of mind. “Work. If you just started to do some, it would help.”

“I will,” I said, earnestly.

“You’ve got a brain,” said Hattie, “why not use it?”

I told her that she sounded like my mum.

“I’m going to act like your mum,” said Hattie. “I’m going to tell you what to do and you’re going to do it … cos if you don’t, then that is it. I shall wash my hands of you.”

“Oh, no, please,” I said. “Please, Hattie, don’t!”

“It’s entirely up to you,” said Hattie. “What’s next? Behaviour. Well, that’s easy enough! Just stop getting told off all the time. Attitude— ”

“Yes,” I said, anxiously, “what does that mean?”

“It means co-operating,” said Hattie. “Like, you know … shutting up when you’re told to shut up? Walking down the corridor when you’re told to walk down the corridor? Not barging and yelling and— ”

“I don’t do that!” I said.

Hattie looked at me, rather hard.

“Well, yes, all right,” I said. “I get the message. What about punctuality? I can manage punctuality! At least I can if Dad leaves on time. He doesn’t always leave on time.”

“So go by train,” said Hattie.