Tessa in Love (4 page)

I was mortified. It was like I’d said their friend was some kind of goat killer and really he was some kind of goat hero. I waited for her to finish, then quickly said, ‘God, I’m sorry, I didn’t know anything about it, honestly!’

‘It’s OK,’ Jane said, nicely. ‘Why would you? It happened when we were in Year Seven or Eight, years ago – in fact you probably weren’t even here. So it’s kind of amazing you’d heard about it. Wolfie’s going to love hearing that he’s a goat-rustling legend.’

‘I was just told ...’

‘Well, whatever,’ Lara said. ‘But Wolfie and the goat are old friends.’ There was something about the way she said it that sort of sounded like she meant something deeper, like
they
were all old friends and maybe I should keep out of their business.

‘We haven’t really done anything about the leafleting campaign either,’ Jane said, changing the subject. ‘But we think we ought to do something, maybe something not part of the organised schedule, and not just get angry after it’s happened. It was lovely on Saturday, standing in the trees where it was so peaceful.’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘It’s one of my favourite places . . .’

While I was talking, Matty came up, having got back from her dentist.

‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Dee said she thought she saw you up here. Did I miss anything interesting this morning?’ She said hi to the other two girls, who smiled.

‘No, nothing,’ I said. ‘Matty, this is Jane and Lara. They were at the Cadeby Wood meeting on Saturday. We were just talking about it.’

‘Yeah, I wanted to go,’ Matty said, sounding a bit stiff. ‘But I’d promised someone I’d be somewhere else.’ Matty had, of course, shown no interest in the Wood the day before, but there was a softness in the way her voice trailed off, and I sensed she felt she had missed out on something. And it was true that she’d promised Lee she’d see him; maybe she’d talked down the Wood because she wanted to talk me into keeping her date with him.

‘There’s gonna be more, I think,’ Jane said. ‘You should definitely come along to the next one.’

‘Yeah,’ Matty said, nodding. We talked about it a bit more, but lunch was over pretty soon after, and Matty and I were going in the opposite direction to them. ‘Maybe I should have gone,’ Matty said to me, softly.

‘I think you made the right choice. You got Lee the Diesel jacket.’

‘Yeah ... but I missed you,’ she said.

‘Yeah, I missed you,’ I said. ‘And it was pretty boring, standing around listening to like local senior citizens groups making angry speeches about the evils of progress and the modern world.’

I thought she needed to hear that it hadn’t been a major social event. Even though Matty was the stylish and confident one, the one who had boys falling at her feet and always knew what to say, I sometimes found myself making fun of things I believed in or liked, to make her feel better. I wasn’t sure why, maybe because I’d always sort of been the uncool one, the one we both made fun of, and it would have been wrong to change things. I didn’t feel ready to make that change yet – I didn’t take myself seriously as someone with my own style. And sometimes, I just felt Matty needed me to be the same, because her life was changing so much and she appreciated having someone around who she could depend on.

‘But you met some people there?’

‘Lara and Jane? I don’t think Lara likes me. Jane’s lovely, though.’

Matty nodded and smiled quite shyly. ‘She’s beautiful. Were there a lot of people from our school there?’

‘God, no, just us. It really was full of pensioners. I got a few phone numbers from old men, actually – they’re in my purse somewhere . . .’ I mimed looking for it, and Matty laughed.

‘Shut up!’

‘No, some of them were really quite hot. Skin not so good, sure, and some of them a bit bald, but a lot of them had brand new teeth ...’

‘Oh my God!’ Matty said, and we were back on track again, laughing and relaxed. ‘OK, I admit it: I’m glad I didn’t go. You know I like the Wood, and I think it was a sweet idea, but it does seem kind of pointless trying to stop it. If the shop’s bought the land, you’re all probably just wasting your time. Sorry, but. . .’

‘No, you’re right,’ I said. ‘But it’s sort of worth trying. I mean, yes, the big businesses always win, but maybe it’s good that people know they’re not alone in wishing it wasn’t always true and that other things are important.’

‘Yeah, I can see that,’ Matty said. ‘So there was no one else from school there?’

‘A couple of guys.’

‘Oh
yeah?
’ Matty said. ‘Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday? Anyone ...
interesting?’

“The boy we saw in the wood the other day,’ I said, keeping my voice neutral. I’d made the mistake in the past of admitting to crushes (cough JOHNCHEESEMAN cough) before I was really sure, and suddenly they were official and Matty was making them happen. I didn’t want this to be taken out of my hands. And a small, immature part of me also wanted Matty’s approval – her was-he-cool-enough? approval – before I went ahead and fancied him.

‘Mudassar’s mate?’ Matty said.

‘Yeah.’

‘Was he with those girls?’

Teah.’

‘You said a couple of guys?’

‘Oh, someone called Chunk.’

‘Yeah, I know Chunk,’ Matty said. ‘Hairy. Not very hot.’

‘Right,’ I said.

Matty didn’t seem to have anything else to say, and I was going to leave it, but then she said, ‘They’re all a bit political, that lot, aren’t they?’ she said. ‘Quite serious?’

‘Well. . .’ I said, ‘They’re quite funny, too.’

‘Mm,’ said Matty, then sighed. ‘I bet the guys read newspapers ...’

‘Oh, I see what you’re saying.’ I laughed. ‘You’re talking about my quest for the perfect newspaper-reading man.’

‘You’re the one who’s always complaining about being single!’

But I still thought Matty was only bringing it up to make fun of me, as if she was saying, you want newspaper-readers, you get people like
that,
and the
‘that’
was not what a sane person would want.

We’d all swapped e-mails at the meeting, and I updated my address book and put theirs in. I spent about an hour drafting a group e-mail to them all that said:

From:
[email protected]

To:
[email protected],
[email protected],

[email protected],

[email protected]

Subject:
cadeby wood

Hi everyone

It was good meeting you all on Saturday and great to know that other people are interested in the future of the Wood. If there’s anything you have planned that I can be a part of, however small, please let me know.

Best,

Tessa

Really: an
hour.
I tinkered with it until the words had lost their meaning, with my mouse hovering now and again over the send button. Finally, I decided the e-mail made me look like a massive loser, and I knew the only reason I wanted to send it was to remind Wolfie he could spontaneously send me e-mails telling me I was pretty and asking me on dates. That kind of thinking was going to guarantee me disappointment. Then my brother started pestering me for the computer, and I didn’t want to leave it on there for him to find and make fun of, so I deleted and trashed the mail.

‘Are you sure you’ve finished here?’ Jack asked, with unusual thoughtfulness.

‘Yes,’ I replied, surprised.

‘Great, thanks.’

I smiled. Just before I’d left the den, he said, ‘Hang on, you’ve got new mail.’

It was a group e-mail from Wolfie.

(!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

(Hm. Be cool, Tessa.)

From:
[email protected]

To:
[email protected],
[email protected],

[email protected],

[email protected]

Subject:
tomorrow we fight

Guys

We will not rest till the Wood is free for wolves and goats to roam in safety and liberty.

I nearly died. Lara and Jane had clearly
told
him what I’d said about the goat, and, even though it was a group e-mail, he was making fun of me. My heart was beating as I read on.

Keep this channel free for progress reports.

Peace

Wolfie

There’s only so many times you can re-read a twenty-nine-word e-mail, but I was still at it when Jack finally said, ‘OK, OK, you said you were going?’

‘Oh, sorry,’ I said, and left him alone, although I wanted to stay and keep reading the mail. It was official. I’d fallen for the Wolf.

‘S
o he’s giving it some of this and I’m like, do you even know who you’re messing with? And he’s like, not only do I not know, it’s pretty obvious that if you
told
me who I’m messing with, I still wouldn’t know, you know?’ Lee said.

‘God, yeah,’ Matty said. (I was thinking,
Huh?)
‘So what did you say?’ she asked. The three of us were hanging out after school at our favourite coffee shop, Hava Java. Matty and Lee were draped over each other in the corner, and he was stroking the top of her arm, and I was sitting a little awkwardly to one side, dividing my attention between Lee’s story and a new magazine.

‘So I’m like, clearly neither of us is gonna back down, but I don’t want to risk a black eye before the weekend, even if I put him down for it. So I’m stood there with my hands in my pockets and I suddenly just like crack up laughing. You know, like it’s really funny, ‘cause it is, right? And I’m like, whatever man, let’s forget it, it’s a
lovely
T-shirt. Queen are well cool, man, and he stands there and looks at me and he’s like, whatever, and then he’s gone.’

‘Ha! You’re so cool,’ Matty said. ‘And I’m glad you let him off. I don’t want you getting into a fight, even with a Queen fan.’ She held his chin in one hand and kissed his cheek.

‘It’s hardly a fair fight,’ Lee said, downing his cup of tea modestly.

Lee could be nice and funny and he was definitely cool and trendy, and Matty had told me enough things about how amazing he was when they were alone – how he flattered her and bought her things; but just
occasionally,
I couldn’t stand him. I knew this was something to do with being jealous of the fact that Lee had ‘stolen’ my best friend and got to spend so much time with her. And I knew it had something to do with me being jealous of
Matty,
because she had someone special, a boy she could talk about who stroked her arm in public, and it was proof that she was prettier and sexier and more mature than me. I knew all this and felt crap about it. But pushing that to one side for an
instant,
Lee could really be a boring, self-important prick.

I worried that Matty couldn’t see this about him. I also worried that Matty
could
see this about him and was embarrassed about me seeing it. I didn’t want her to be: I didn’t want her to have another reason to see less of me, and I definitely didn’t want her to think I judged her boyfriend (although I did) or thought less of her because of him (because that wasn’t true at all).

I probably spent too much time worrying about me and Lee and Matty.

But I needed a break, and said I was going to the counter to get another drink and did they want anything. Lee wanted another milky, sugary tea; Matty, her usual, skimmed milk latte (a Matty-latty). I figured I’d go for a strong espresso, to keep me awake through Lee’s next story. I was standing, drumming my fingers on the counter, staring into space, when the bloke behind me in the queue nudged my upper arm with his, but I wasn’t expecting it, got unbalanced and started falling. He grabbed my forearm to keep me upright.

‘Whoops, sorry,’ he said with a laugh. ‘I didn’t mean to bump you so hard.’ I nearly gasped with delight – it was Wolfie. When he’d pulled me up straight again, he let go of my arm. ‘I’m glad I found you – I’ve got some exciting news.’

Had he been looking for me? ‘Oh wow, about Cadeby Wood?’ I asked.

‘Yeah, oh, your coffees are ready.’ He nodded towards the end of the counter, where the assistant was putting the cups.

‘Well . . .’ I wanted to let him know I was too interested in his news to think about coffee, but I was a bit worried about taking Lee and Matty stone cold drinks, and this was probably the best time for a break. ‘Hang on, I’ll be right back.’

I took Lee’s tea and Matty’s latte to them and slid them across the table. ‘I won’t be long,’ I said. ‘I’ve just got...’

‘Is that tramp bothering you?’ Lee said, and laughed.

‘Um ...’ I said.

‘Shhh,’ Matty said. She looked embarrassed and shrugged at me.

I quickly shook my head at her, letting her know it was OK. ‘I won’t be long,’ I said.

I went back to Wolfie, who was waiting with my espresso.

‘A quid twenty for a quarter of an egg cup of coffee,’ he said. ‘You’re so decadent.’

‘It’s not the size, it’s the strength,’ I said. I knew while I was saying it that he might read it as a sort of cool innuendo, because I’m not very tall, but I hoped it wasn’t too flirty.

He smiled and raised one eyebrow. ‘I bet. So listen, Chunk’s dad is Features Editor for the local paper, and he’s managed to get us –
us
– this is insane, a whole page. It’s nominally for our school, like a “schoolkids talk” feature; but, like, sod the rest of the school – they weren’t there, and Chunk says this
is
ours anyway. We’re going to put together a presentation. Lara’s a brilliant writer . . .’