The New Girl

There’s a moment’s silence. All I can hear is a pounding in my head.

‘Sure,’ the blonde girl finally replies. Her voice is crisp and polished. I look up from my bag. They’re all still staring at me. None of them are smiling.

‘Thank you, Izzy,’ the receptionist trills before turning back to her work.

I trudge over to them.

‘Hi, I’m Nessa,’ I mumble.

‘Yes, we got that,’ the girl with dark hair – she must be Vivien – says curtly. They start walking off down the corridor. I trail after them, feeling red-hot with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. They could at least be trying to make conversation. When we get to a stairwell at the end of the corridor the blonde girl Izzy looks back over her shoulder at me. I smile at her, but she turns away, and I feel a sudden chill run right through me. It’s really strange – like I’m shivering on the inside of my body.

I follow them up two flights of stairs and past a row of doors to the end of a corridor. They still don’t say anything to me, just open the door and go through. I check the sign on the door just to make sure they haven’t brought me to the wrong place for a prank, but the sign says Mr Matthews, 8MA.

As it’s still so early, there’s only a handful of other students in the form room when I go in. Mr Matthews is sat behind his desk marking a pile of books. He’s old and stick thin, with crazy wiry white hair springing from his head. I go and stand by his desk, but he’s so engrossed in his marking that he doesn’t notice me. I cough and he still doesn’t look up. My face starts to burn.

‘New girl, sir,’ Stephen shouts suddenly, causing Mr Matthews to jump. He looks at me at last and frowns.

‘New girl?’

I nod. ‘Yes, sir. Nessa Reid.’

Mr Matthews’s pale blue eyes light up. ‘Of course! Clara Hamilton’s niece.’ He stands up and promptly knocks his pile of books over. ‘Welcome, welcome,’ he says as he tries to put it back together. ‘I used to know your mother, Celeste. I taught her, actually – many moons ago. You look so like her it’s uncanny.’ His smile fades and he shakes his head. ‘I was so sorry when I heard – you know – when she died.’

I nod and look away.

‘OK, we need to find someone to take care of you until you’ve found your feet,’ Mr Matthews says. ‘We don’t want you ending up going for lunch in the gymnasium now, do we?’ He laughs heartily at his own joke and scans the classroom. Please, please, please don’t say Izzy, Stephen or Vivien, I silently beg.

‘Izzy!’ Mr Matthews says. ‘Can you take Nessa under your wing for the next few days – show her where everything is? Make her feel welcome.’

I reluctantly turn round to look at her. I’m expecting a glare, but to my surprise, Izzy is smiling.

‘Of course, sir.’ Izzy beckons to me. ‘Come and sit here, Nessa. I’ll make sure you’re OK.’

I hear someone to the left of me cough. It’s the kind of pointed cough that’s trying to say something. I turn and see a girl with dark skin and curly dark brown hair hunched over her desk, her face buried behind a book.

I pick up my bag and head over to Izzy. She’s still smiling at me. But I’m not sure I like it. For some reason it reminds me of the smile the big bad wolf gave Little Red Riding Hood – right before he tried to gobble her up.

My morning hanging out with Izzy, Vivien and Stephen turns out to be totally weird and really exhausting. Everywhere they go, the other students either stare at them in awe or suck up to them like they’re mega-famous celebrities. And because Izzy is still being creepily super-friendly to me, the other students have all been treating me the same way. I feel like a singer who’s just found overnight stardom after years of singing songs into her hairbrush in her bedroom. It all feels kind of surreal given how unfriendly they were to me first thing this morning. I’d thought that as soon as registration was over and we were away from Mr Matthews, they’d go straight back to blanking me. But if anything, it’s been the opposite. Izzy made Vivien sit with Stephen in every single lesson this morning so that I could sit next to her. And Vivien didn’t even seem to really mind. She hasn’t been as super-smiley to me as Izzy has, but scowling just seems to be her default setting.

Izzy told me to meet them in the canteen for lunch, but as soon as the bell goes, I head to the toilets. I need some time on my own to process everything that’s happened this morning. I lock the cubicle door, shut the toilet lid and sit down. I’ve never had loads of friends at school and I’ve definitely never been part of the ‘cool group’, so I don’t know how to handle this. My friendship with Ellie has always been enough for me. I take my phone out of my blazer pocket I’m glad to see a new text message from her.

How’s it going? I MISS YOU!!!

xxxx

As I read it I feel a sharp pain again, as if a giant fist is clenching my stomach. I press reply.

It’s been really weird – I seem to have been adopted by the populars and I can’t work out why!! I MISS YOU TOO!!! xxxx

The door to the toilets bangs open and someone goes into the cubicle next to mine. I take a deep breath and put my phone back in my pocket., Although it’s been unnerving hanging out with Izzy, Vivien and Stephen, I guess it’s better than having to drift around all day on my own. I pick up my bag and head off for lunch.

Even though the canteen’s really crowded, it’s easy to spot Izzy’s white-blonde hair. They’re sitting at a table at the back with a girl who’s from our form. She has very short hair and huge glasses. She looks really sweet and shy and this instantly makes me feel better. I think I’ll feel way more relaxed if I can chat to her. But as I get closer to the table I get hit by a sudden and completely random feeling of fear. Izzy’s leaning in close to the girl, looking like she’s whispering a secret in her ear. But whatever she’s saying can’t be nice – the girl looks really upset.

‘It looks like your mum just put a bowl on your head and started cutting,’ I hear Vivien say to her just as I reach the table.

‘Couldn’t you afford to get a proper haircut?’ Izzy says.

‘Maybe I should shave it all off with my dad’s clippers,’ Stephen adds, sneering. ‘It couldn’t look any worse.’

I’m frozen to the spot. There’s no way I want to sit with them now if this is how they treat people, but I don’t want to leave the girl on her own with them either. But before I can decide what to do, Izzy spots me.

‘Nessa! Come and join us. Eve was just going, weren’t you, Eve?’ She turns and gives the girl a cold stare.

Eve has a full plate of spaghetti Bolognese in front of her, but she nods and picks up her tray.

‘Are you OK?’ I ask as Eve shuffles past me.

‘Yes, fine,’ she mutters without looking at me at all.

‘Come on, sit down,’ Izzy says, smiling up at me.

Reluctantly, I sit down next to her, still staring at Eve. I think about going after her but I don’t know what I’d say. I watch as she scrapes her lunch into a bin before heading out of the canteen. I feel really sick.

‘Did you bring lunch, or are you getting something here?’ Vivien asks.

My heart sinks as I think of the Tupperware box Aunt Clara gave me this morning. I didn’t dare ask her what was in it.

‘I brought it,’ I mutter, taking the box from my bag. It’s full of brown rice and vegetables and weird white cubes. I think they might be cheese, but when I try one it’s tasteless and as chewy as rubber. I look up to see Izzy, Stephen and Vivien all staring at me. My face flushes.

‘What’s that white stuff ?’ Stephen asks, nodding at my lunch. I wonder if he’s going to start teasing me the way he was teasing Eve and I feel a hot burst of anger. If he does, I decide, I’ll shove whatever this stupid lunch is right into his smug face.

‘I’m not sure,’ I reply, my face burning even hotter.

‘You don’t know what you’ve got for lunch?’ Vivien asks.

‘No.’ I stare back at her.

‘I think it’s tofu,’ Izzy says with another smile. ‘It looks delicious.’

I look at her, feeling a weird mixture of gratitude and disbelief.

‘Thank you,’ I mutter. ‘My aunt made it. She’s vegan.’

Izzy nods. ‘Your aunt runs the vegan café in town, doesn’t she?’

‘Yes. Paper Soul.’

Izzy just keeps on smiling, like she’s on some kind of sponsored grinathon. ‘I haven’t been into Paper Soul for ages. We’ll have to have lunch there one weekend, won’t we guys?’

Stephen and Vivien nod but they don’t seem quite so keen.

I glance at the table in front of ours. The girl from our class with the dark curly hair is staring at me over the book she’s reading. When we make eye contact she gives a quick smile before looking back down at her book. I look around and see loads of other students glancing over too. I take a deep breath and force myself to eat another cube of white rubber.

By the time the bell rings for the end of the day my mouth is aching from making myself smile and my entire body is stiff with tension. I have to get out of here. As I shove my books into my bag I look up and see the girl with the dark curly hair staring at me again. It’s definitely different to the stares I’ve been getting from the other students; she’s looking at me like 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 mean, it’s not as if there aren’t like, a ton of other people – a ton of other way more inspirational women – we could study,’ Holly continues.

‘Shut up, idiot,’ Stephen mutters behind me, making me want to turn round and scowl at him.

‘There’s Joan of Arc and Boudicca and –’

‘OK, thank you, Holly,’ Miss Maxwell interrupts. ‘Anyone else got any questions related to Henry VIII?’

‘My question was related to Henry VIII,’ Holly says indignantly.

Eve puts her hand up but the bell goes before she can say anything and the room is filled with the clatter of chairs.

As we go to leave, Miss Maxwell calls Izzy back to talk to her about her homework. I seize the opportunity to escape out the door, and Holly is right next to me.

‘Hi,’ she says.

‘Hi,’ I say back.

‘So, how are you finding it here?’

‘OK.’ I summon up the courage to give a reply of more than two syllables. ‘I liked what you said just then in class. I don’t know why we study him either.’

Holly looks at me like she thinks I might be tricking her. ‘Really?’

I nod.

She starts to grin and her brown eyes twinkle. ‘Do you want to have lunch with me?’

‘Yes, please!’ I’m so relieved to have someone other than Izzy and her gang to hang out with that I can barely hide my excitement.

When Holly and I get to the canteen we grab a couple of empty seats at the end of a table.

‘So, how come you’ve moved to Fairhollow?’ Holly asks, taking a paper bag from her backpack and placing it on the table in front of her. I watch enviously as she takes out two huge sausage rolls.

‘I’m staying with my Aunt Clara while my dad’s away working in Dubai.’

As Holly takes a bite of one of the sausage rolls, I practically start to drool. I take out my own lunch box. Maybe it’ll be something nicer today. But as soon as I open it, my heart sinks. It’s full of little round orange things and a ton of chopped vegetables.

‘How long’s your dad away for?’ Holly asks.

‘His contract’s for a year, but he’ll be home for holidays and stuff.’ I take a mouthful of the orange things. They taste so weird I can’t help grimacing.

‘What is that?’ Holly asks, but unlike Stephen yesterday, she seems genuinely interested.

‘I’m not exactly sure. My aunt’s vegan,’ I explain. I take another mouthful but it’s no good – I can’t make myself like it.

‘Oh. Well, would you like one of my sausage rolls then?’

Normally, if a virtual stranger offered me some of their lunch, I’d be polite and say no, but I’m way too hungry and the sausage roll looks way too nice.

‘Yes, please, if you’re sure.’

‘Sure I’m sure.’ She hands me one of the sausage rolls. I take a huge bite. Holly looks at my lunch. ‘Can I try some of yours in exchange?’

‘Of course!’ I practically shove the box at her.

‘Oh, this is really good,’ Holly says, as she takes a forkful.

‘Really?’ I stare at her.

‘Mmm. I love the different flavours. Oh, I miss home-cooked food.’ She gives a dramatic sigh. ‘Shall we just do a total swap?’ She pushes the other sausage roll towards me. I nod and grab it eagerly. This lunch break could not be going better.

But then I see Izzy, Stephen and Vivien appear in the doorway. Izzy scans the canteen. As soon as she sees me she smiles, but then she sees Holly and her smile wilts into a frown. She nudges the others and leads them over to me.

‘Nessa, what are you doing?’ she says.

‘Having lunch.’

‘With her?’ Izzy scowls at Holly.

‘Yes.’ I glance across the table at Holly. Suddenly I’m hit by a wave of sickness.

‘Right.’ Izzy smiles at me again, but I can tell from the cold look in her eyes that she doesn’t mean it. A shiver runs right the way up my spine. ‘Come on,’ she says to the others, and they go and sit at the table next to ours.

I look at Holly apologetically, still feeling really queasy. ‘I’m sorry. Mr Matthews told Izzy to take care of me and she’s taking it very seriously.’

Holly makes a sarcastic noise. ‘Yeah, that’s Izzy, all heart.’ She takes another forkful of Aunt Clara’s lunch. ‘So, what about your mum? Where’s she?’

I look down at the table. ‘My mum’s – she died.’

Holly instantly puts her fork down. ‘Oh no. I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise.’

‘It’s OK, it was a long time ago.’

‘But it must be really hard for you, especially now your dad’s away.’

The concern in Holly’s voice makes me feel really good. The entire time I was with Izzy and the others yesterday they barely asked me a question about myself. It’s so nice being with someone who genuinely cares – almost like being with Ellie again.

‘Yes, it is a bit, but I’ve got Aunt Clara.’

Holly glances over at Izzy’s table and I get that sick scared feeling again. What’s wrong with me? Ever since I’ve arrived in Fairhollow it’s as if I’ve been on some kind of emotional roller coaster. I can’t wait till things settle down and I can start feeling normal again.

‘Can I ask you something?’ Holly looks all serious.

I nod. ‘Of course.’

‘How do you feel about Izzy and the others?’ Holly asks. ‘Do you like them? Do you want to hang out with them?’ She studies my face like she’s searching for some kind of clue.

‘Not really. I mean, I’m grateful that they looked after me yesterday, but I don’t think they’re the kind of people I’d choose as friends.’

Holly grins so hard a pair of dimples appear either side of her mouth. ‘Well, you know, if you want someone else to hang out with there’s always me.’ She looks down at the lunch box shyly. ‘I mean, I don’t really care if you do or you don’t, but if you do . . .’

‘I do. Thank you.’ The warm glow inside of me is suddenly replaced by a cold chill of dread. I look up to see Izzy, Stephen and Vivien standing by our table again.

‘Come on, Nessa, let’s go back to our form room,’ Izzy says.

I look at Holly and my stomach lurches. She’s gazing down into her lap.

‘It’s OK, you guys go ahead. I’ll come up with Holly,’ I say.

Izzy leans down closer to me, so close I can smell her perfume. It’s really unusual, spicy and strong. ‘We need to go now,’ she says in a loud firm voice. ‘I don’t know why you’re hanging out with a freak like her anyway. You could have had lunch with us.’

I stare up at her, my heart pounding. Who does she think she is, telling me what to do? There’s a definite hush from the tables closest to us as everyone waits to see how I’m going to respond.

‘I said no,’ I say in an equally loud, firm voice. ‘I’ll come up when I’ve finished my lunch – with Holly.’

Izzy stares at me.

I stare back. I don’t need her friendship. Who wants to hang out with a control freak like that?

Izzy takes a sharp breath in and her cheeks flush bright pink. Silence spreads across the canteen as we continue to stare at each other. Finally, she tosses her hair over her shoulder, turns and marches away.

Stephen and Vivien go scuttling after her.

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