The New Girl. Ariana Chambers

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СКАЧАТЬ she knows me, or knows something about me. I hoist my bag over my shoulder and head over to the door of our form room. Izzy calls out after me but I pretend not to hear her. I need fresh air and I need to be on my own. I’m all new-peopled-out. As I rush along the corridor, I hear the other classroom doors opening behind me and students spilling out. I race down the stairs and through reception. It’s only when I get out on to the driveway that I start feeling calmer again.

      ‘Nessa! Wait!’

      My throat tightens at the sound of Izzy’s voice.

      I turn and see all three of them running to catch up with me. What is wrong with them? Why are they so desperate to hang out with me? It’s obvious I’m not in their league – this is going against all the natural laws of the school feeding chain.

      ‘Why did you race off like that?’ Izzy says, catching me up. Her pale cheeks have flushed pink, making her look even more like a porcelain doll.

      ‘I don’t know,’ I mutter.

      ‘Do you want to come and hang out at mine?’ she asks. ‘We were going to go in the pool.’

      ‘The pool?’

      Izzy nods. ‘Yes. Don’t worry. It’s indoors and it’s heated.’

      ‘Oh, well,’ I rack my brains for an excuse. ‘I – I don’t have a swimming costume.’

      Izzy grins. ‘That’s OK. You can borrow one of mine.’

      My insides start crawling with embarrassment. It’s been bad enough having to hang out with new people all day without them seeing me semi-naked. And something tells me Izzy’s the kind of girl who would own only the skimpiest bikinis.

      ‘Come on, it’ll be fun.’ Izzy links arms with me.

      I automatically pull away. ‘I’m really sorry. I can’t. I have to – I have to help my aunt, in the café.’

      Izzy sighs. For a moment I think I’ve managed to wriggle out of it, but then she starts smiling again. ‘We could come with you – hang out there for a while.’

      I look at the others hoping they’ll disagree, but even Stephen’s nodding.

      ‘You can’t!’ I say, way too forcefully.

      ‘What do you mean, we can’t?’ Vivien asks, icily.

      ‘It’s not open today,’ I stammer. ‘I’m helping my aunt do a stock check.’

      Izzy stares at me for a moment, like she’s not sure whether to believe me. ‘Wow, your eyes,’ she says at last.

      ‘What about them?’

      ‘I swear they were pale blue this morning. Now they look really dark.’

      ‘It’s just the light,’ I say. People have said this about my eyes before. I guess they’re just a weird shade of blue that looks different in different settings. ‘Anyway, I’d better get going.’

      Izzy looks at me for a moment, then she nods. ‘OK. See you tomorrow.’

      ‘Yes. See you tomorrow.’ I pull up the hood on my coat and start walking, my heart pounding in time with my feet.

      As soon as I’ve got away from the populars, I start feeling better. The icy air feels lovely and fresh after the stuffy, overheated classrooms. I don’t feel ready to go back to Paper Soul just yet and face trying to make conversation with Aunt Clara, so when I get to the crossroads instead of turning left on to the High Street I go straight on. I follow the road round a corner and see a footpath leading up into the woods. It looks so quiet and peaceful that I feel drawn to it like a magnet. As I head in among the trees all I can hear are the chirps of birds as they flying to roost for the night. It’s so soothing after the all the yelling and clattering of school. I take a deep breath. The air smells of a beautiful mixture of woodsmoke and damp pine. I follow the footpath up the hill until I come to a huge old oak tree. Its roots are gnarled, pushing up through the icy ground like a pair of giant arms. I nestle down in a nook between them and lean back against the huge trunk. It feels as if the tree is hugging me and slowly I start to relax. I’ve survived my first day at Fairhollow High. I take Mum’s locket from my pocket and trace my fingers over the star.

      It’s weird to think that I’m now living in the town that Mum grew up in, going to the same school she went to, and with the same teacher. Weird but nice. Imaginary scenes start playing in my head. Mum walking down the High Street. Mum going to school. Mum sitting at a desk listening to Mr Matthews take the register. Mum walking and playing in these woods, maybe even around this tree. My body starts filling with a warm glow. Hopefully, coming to Fairhollow will help me get to know her better. Whenever I asked Dad to tell me about her he’d just close up and mutter, ‘I can’t’, so I gave up trying. But I’m living with Aunt Clara now. Surely she’ll be able to tell me loads once she’s got used to me being here. Scrambling to my feet, I decide to go back to Paper Soul and give it a try.

      The next morning, as I make my way to school, I feel way better than I did yesterday. Last night with Aunt Clara was actually quite relaxed. When I asked her if she could tell me more about Mum she went and got an old chocolate box filled with photos of her and Mum as little kids. We spent ages going through the pictures, with Aunt Clara telling me the story behind each one. She’s even given me one of the pictures to keep. It’s of Mum when she was the same age as me. Looking at it is kind of spooky. We’re so similar we could be twins.

      As I walk through the school gates I picture Aunt Clara and Mum when they were my age, walking along the driveway in front of me. I imagine Mum swinging her bag and Aunt Clara nibbling on a carrot or some other root vegetable. Even though it was years ago, re-tracing Mum’s footsteps like this gives me a warm glowy feeling that lasts all the way to my form room.

      ‘Hey, Nessa!’ Izzy calls to me as soon as I walk through the door.

      The girl with the dark curly hair is sat at the front hunched over a book again. She looks up at me and raises her eyebrows. I’m feeling so much more relaxed today that I actually smile at her. She looks surprised then quickly smiles back before returning to her reading.

      ‘Come and sit here,’ Izzy calls.

      Although I’m not too keen on hanging around with Izzy and the others again, I guess it’s less hassle to be in with the popular gang than in their bad books.

      The final lesson before lunch is History. We’re learning about Henry VIII. It’s a lesson I’ve already done in my old school so it’s pretty boring, until the teacher, Miss Maxwell asks if anyone has any questions. The girl with the dark curly hair, who has so far been silent in all of the lessons I’ve had with her, puts up her hand.

      ‘Yes, Holly,’ Miss Maxwell says.

      ‘Why do we have to spend so much time studying a psycho wife abuser?’ Holly asks.

      Izzy sighs but I can’t help grinning. I’ve never got why school makes such a huge deal of Henry VIII either.

      ‘I СКАЧАТЬ