Bhangra Babes (6 page)

Second, I knew that Geena and Jazz would smell a big fat rat if they found out I was going into school early. And I couldn't ask Auntie not to mention it because she'd want to know why not. So I just had to hope she didn't say anything until after I'd gone. That was always unlikely where Auntie was concerned, but luckily for me she was out for most of the evening with Mr. Arora. All that was left was for me to hide my school uniform in the airing cupboard, wake myself up early without an alarm, sneak out of bed without rousing Jazz, wash and dress without waking Geena, and tiptoe out of the house. Easy, really.

“It would still be a lie, even if I went to the library now,” Kim replied doggedly. “It would be a lie in retrospect.”

“Have you swallowed a dictionary?” I jeered, arranging my fringe so that it fell casually over one eye. “Anyway, you might as well go to the library as anywhere else. I need you to push off”—my face brightened as Rocky sauntered through the gates— “like, right now.”

“Are you sure you don't want me to stay?” asked Kim. “You might make a fool of yourself without me to help.”

I sent her packing with a look. Then I dropped my bag at my feet, hitched my school skirt a little higher and smiled sweetly.

Rocky came over to me. The sunlight glinted on his jet-black hair, and I felt my heart quiver and my knees weaken.

“Fancy a Polo mint?” he asked, holding out the tube.

I hate Polos. Of course, I took one. If he'd offered me a pebble, I'd have eaten it.

“How're you doing?” he asked.

“Fine. What about you? How are you settling in?” My voice sounded fluttery, so I took a deep breath.

Rocky shrugged. “Schools are all the same, aren't they?” he drawled. “Same old crap.”

“Absolutely,” I agreed breathlessly, hanging on his every wonderful word.

Rocky glanced over his shoulder. “Your sisters not around?”

Curses! Did that mean he liked one of them better than me?

“No,” I said quickly. “Jazz likes to watch cartoons in the morning before she comes to school. Well, she is only twelve. And Geena has to see the doctor this morning. About her rash.”

“Rash?” Rocky repeated.

“Yes,” I replied. “Her skin's been peeling off for weeks. Apparently it's very contagious.”

Rocky looked surprised. “I hadn't noticed.”

“Oh, it's only on her arms and legs,” I said cheerfully. “But it might be best to keep your distance.”

“I got ya.” Rocky pointed a finger at me. “See you later?”

“Yes,” I said eagerly, just about stopping myself from adding
please.
“Maybe we could meet up at lunchtime?”

Rocky nodded lazily, and off he strolled to join a

bunch of Year 10 boys who were kicking a football about.

“Yes!” I mentally punched the air. Then I muttered, “Oh dear.”

Geena and Jazz were standing just inside the gates, glaring at me. Their looks were bitter.

“Oh, so
this
is where the library is, is it?” Jazz remarked with heavy sarcasm as she came toward me. “I thought it was
inside
the school.”

“Really, Amber!” said Geena sternly. “I didn't think you could stoop so low.”

“Nonsense,” I said. “All's fair in love and war.”

“Oh, so you've been found out.” Kim appeared, clutching a library book. “Serves you right.”

“I don't care,” I said smugly. “It was worth it.”

“What did you talk about?” Jazz asked, clearly bursting to hear everything. Geena was too, but she would have died before asking.

I tapped Jazz lightly on the nose. “Wouldn't you like to know?” I said jauntily.

The bell rang. Jazz was about to attack me, so you could say I was literally saved by the bell. I bounced into school feeling very cheerful, followed by Kim, who radiated disapproval from every pore.

“Hey, Georgie.” I smiled at George Botley, who was hanging his jacket up. “How's it going?”

“OK.” George smiled back. The improvement was tremendous, but sadly he still wasn't in the Golden Boy league. For a moment it looked as if he was going to come over. But then his path was blocked

by Victoria Kwame, who grabbed his arm and started twittering about maths homework.

I shrugged and turned away. I had bigger fish to fry, anyway.

Kiran was already at our table, reading a history textbook. I could feel Mr. Hernandez's eyes boring two red-hot holes in my back as I went over to her. At least getting up early meant I hadn't run into her delivering newspapers.

“All right?” I said with as much of a fake smile as I could muster.

“Fine,” she snapped, baring her teeth.

I shot a glance at Mr. Hernandez, resplendent in a purple Hawaiian shirt dotted with yellow tropical blooms. Our short exchange seemed to have satisfied him, and he opened the register.

Looking flustered, Kim joined us. “I can't find my
Julius Caesar
notes,” she said. “I wondered if either of you had picked them up by mistake.”

I rooted through my bag. “Not me.” I glanced at Kiran. “Aren't you going to look too?” I demanded.

“In a minute,” she snapped. She didn't even have the courtesy to raise her eyes from her book.

“You know, it really is an art to be this obnoxious,” I said in a low voice. “Congratulations.”

“It doesn't matter, Amber—” Kim began.

“Of course it does.” I noticed Mr. Hernandez staring at us again, and pasted a smile to my face. “She can't talk to you like that.”

“She wasn't talking to me,” Kim replied. “She was talking to you.”

Kiran glared, spotted Mr. Hernandez and gave us an artificial smile. “Why don't you two just shove off and leave me in peace?” she suggested through her teeth.

“You're a complete pain in the butt—you do know that, don't you?” I said with a savage grin.

“Glad to see you're all getting on so well, girls,” called Mr. Hernandez.

“You should have asked Kiran nicely,” Kim said as we went off to our first lesson—maths with Mr. Arora. “You were a bit rude. And you didn't need to stand up for me either.”

“I've been doing it since we were five,” I said. “You've never complained before.”

“You just wanted to interfere,” retorted Kim.

“Thanks for being such a good friend, Amber,” I said pointedly. “No, really, Kim, don't mention it.”

“I won't,” Kim replied.

We stopped in the corridor before we reached Mr. Arora's classroom, and turned to look for Kiran. This was our new routine. Kiran would join us, and we'd go into the classrooms together, so that the teachers didn't have anything to moan about. Then at the end of the lesson we'd leave together and instantly go our separate ways. It was the only way to avoid attacking each other.

But I had more pressing problems on my mind than

Kiran. I had to plan my next move on Rocky Gill, as well as keep one step ahead of the others…

“Jazz, what are you doing?” I asked with eyebrows raised.

It was lunchtime, and Kim and I were sharing a quiet moment and a Twix, when people began to laugh and point at the canteen. I looked to see what was so amusing and saw Jazz clinging to one of the canteen windowsills like a monkey.

“Trying to look through the window, of course,” Jazz snapped, scrabbling for a nonexistent toehold. “Oh!” She collapsed feebly to the ground.

“This might sound like a silly question,” I began, “but why are you so desperate to spy on kids eating their lunch?”

“The Year Tens are in there,” Jazz replied, dusting off her black over-the-knee socks. “And Geena's somehow managed to nick a seat next to Rocky.”

“What!”

I pushed Jazz out of the way, grabbed the windowsill and hauled myself up. As I was about thirty centimeters taller than she was, I had a good view.

Geena and Rocky were sitting at a table near the window, eating banoffee pie and custard. I couldn't hear anything, but I could tell that, in between bites, Geena was flirting relentlessly.

“What are they doing?” Jazz asked as I let go of the sill.

“Talking,” I replied. “And Geena's coming on pretty strong. Has the girl got no shame?”

“It's so not fair,” grumbled Jazz. “Geena's in the same year as Rocky, so she's got a much better chance of getting to know him than we have. We should have given her a handicap before we made the bet.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“We could have made her wear an eye patch,” Jazz muttered bitterly.

“I think you're all mad,” said Kim. “Why don't you just forget this stupid bet?”

At that moment Rocky and Geena came out of the canteen, laughing together. They looked very, very cozy.

“What's that noise?” Kim asked.

“It's Jazz grinding her teeth,” I replied. “She does it sometimes when she's annoyed.”

Geena spotted us and tried to steer Rocky in the opposite direction, but Jazz and I were having none of it. We hurried after them, sliding ahead to cut them off at the corner.

“Oh, hello,” said Geena unconvincingly “I didn't notice you two.”

“Obviously,” I replied, “or you wouldn't have walked off in the opposite direction.”

“Sorry,” Geena sighed. “I'm so scatty these days. It must be the medication I'm taking. You know, for my terrible skin rash.”

I tried very hard not to blush.

“What skin rash?” asked Kim.

“Well, amazingly, it's all gone!” Geena rolled up the sleeve of her white shirt. “See?”

“Let's hope your little problem clears up just as quickly, Amber,” said Rocky solemnly.

“My little problem?” I repeated, bewildered.

“I know you don't like talking about it.” Rocky lowered his voice. “But when you've had it lanced, bring a cushion to school to sit on. It's the only way.”

Kim and Jazz started giggling hysterically.

“Geena,” I said in a dignified manner, “a word with you. In private.”

We edged a discreet distance away.

“Can I ask why you told Rocky I'd got a boil on my behind?” I demanded in a low voice.

“For the same reason you told him I'd got a contagious skin disease on my arms and legs,” retorted Geena.

“Oh, that,” I said dismissively “It was just a joke.”

“Exactly,” Geena agreed. “And I was able to show him that it wasn't true. May I ask if you're going to do the same?”

I glared at her. “Oh, that's funny.”

“All's fair in love and war,” Geena reminded me. She glanced over my shoulder and frowned.
“What
is going on?”

I turned to see Jazz and Rocky standing close together and gazing into each other's eyes. Of course, Geena and I galloped over there immediately.

“Jazz says she's got something in her eye,” Kim said dryly. “I offered to take a look, but she said no.”

“I think it's all right now.” Jazz peeped under her eyelashes at Rocky. She had one hand on his arm, the shameless hussy. “Thank you.”

Geena and I were seriously annoyed. There was no saying what might have happened next if redheaded Karl Peterson, who was in Year 8, hadn't come over to us.

“Mr. Arora wants to see you,” he said without preamble, “in his classroom right now.”

“You heard him, Jazz,” I said. “Mr. Arora wants to see you.”

“No, all of you,” Karl insisted. “Right now.”

“Are you sure he said
all
of us?” asked Geena.

“All
of you,” Karl said. “Do you want me to write it down?”

“Don't be cheeky, you lower-school scumbag,” Geena told him.

Karl shrugged and sauntered off.

“You'd better go, girls,” Rocky drawled. “Catch you later.”

“I think you three are making a big mistake,” Kim said sternly as Rocky wandered away. “He's guessed what you're up to. And he thinks it's amusing.”

“Oh, stop being so prim, Kim,” Geena exclaimed. “This is just a bit of fun.”

“Of course it is,” I agreed as we went in search of Mr. Arora. “But really, Jazz! Pretending to have something in your eye. That's one of the oldest in the book.”

“He fell for it, though,” Jazz said with satisfaction. “And I got really close to him.” She sighed. “He smells of pine and lemon.”

“You make him sound like toilet cleaner,” I snapped.

“You're just jealous,” Jazz replied with deadly accuracy.

“He thinks you're a kid, Jasvinder,” Geena said loftily.

“He doesn't!”

“Does!”

“Doesn't!”

“Oh, very mature,” I said as they began hitting each other to make their point.

“Who asked you?” Geena retorted, giving me a shove. I reeled against Mr. Arora's door, unfortunately at exactly the same moment as he opened it.

“Are you all right, Amber?” he asked anxiously as I picked myself up off the floor.

“I'm fine, sir,” I said through my teeth. Up until then, I'd been treating our bet as a jolly bit of fun. But from now on the gloves were definitely
off.

“You wanted to see us, sir?” Geena said inquiringly.

Mr. Arora closed the classroom door behind us. “Yes. I have a question to ask you.”

I thought it must be something to do with the wedding. Oh dear. How wrong I was.

Mr. Arora sat down at his desk and steep led his fingers together. “Where is Kiran?” he asked gravely.

“Who?” I blurted out.

Mistake. Of course I knew who Kiran
was.
I'd just forgotten about her, that's all.

“The papergirl,” Jazz said helpfully. “The one who's in your class.”

“Thank you,” I mumbled. “I do know.”

“Well, where is she?” Mr. Arora repeated.

I shrugged. I hadn't seen her since French conversation, just before lunch.

Mr. Arora was looking deeply pained. “There she is.” He pointed out of the window. Kiran was sitting on her own on a bench in the playground, reading a magazine.

Jazz looked puzzled. “If you know where she is, then why are you asking us?”

Mr. Arora looked even more pained. “As you can see, she's on her own. And this is the second day I've seen her sitting on her own at lunchtime
and
break time.” He turned reproachful, puppy-dog eyes on us. “I did ask you if you could help her settle in.”

“It's not our fault,” I said defensively. “She's not exactly the easiest person in the world to get along with.” This was putting it as politely as I could.

Mr. Arora sighed. “I accept that. But if you could all try a little harder to make friends with her, I think she'd respond. Will you give it a go?”