Boy Trouble (5 page)

Sophie throws Mills a daggers look and Mills cringes.

I ignore their bickering and glue my eyes to Clover’s back. Because
I’ve
seen Clover dance. And my little bubble of excitement has just become the size of a hot air balloon.

“Oh
My God,” Sophie says. She’s so shocked she’s forgotten to pronounce it “Eoi Moi Gawd”, the D4 way (it’s their fave expression). Mills makes a squeaking noise, like a strangled mouse.

I just grin from ear to ear.

Clover’s on fire. She’s snaking her body like a professional. Her pale blonde hair is flying around her head, lit up by the multicoloured lights like a moving halo. She shimmies her hips and rakes her shoulders backwards and forwards to the music.

Clover loves dancing. When she was younger she used to spend hours in her bedroom every night, wheeling and spinning until she was dizzy. One night she jumped off the bed (practising a star jump) and landed awkwardly. Gramps was in the living room below at the time and he thought there’d been an earthquake. Clover’s ankle was so badly sprained he had to bring her to casualty. They bandaged it up and gave her crutches. She couldn’t walk properly for weeks. It’s a shame she’s tone deaf ’cos she would have been brilliant in
Grease
or
Mamma Mia!

Even Brett is staring at Clover. Mainly at her legs. She’s crouching down now and pumping her arms to the beat, every muscle in her calves and thighs tight as she balances in a low squat. Then she jumps up and dirty dances up and down the dark-haired boy’s body, a wicked grin on her face. After the initial shock he gets really into it, pressing his body against hers, his hands holding her waist. They look amazing together. Brett’s eyes are stuck to them like Velcro.

Mills nudges me in the side. “I’d love to be able to dance like that.”

“She’s probably had classes.” Sophie sniffs.

“You’re just jealous,” I say, “because Clover’s so cool.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Sophie snaps.

I smile to myself. Clover is getting under Sophie’s skin. Excellent.

As I watch, Brett starts to dance right beside Clover and the surfer. Eventually Brett grabs his friend’s shoulder and says something to him. The dark-haired boy stops dancing, excuses himself to Clover and walks towards the bar.

Clover and Brett stare at each other, their faces only inches apart. Clover’s face is shiny from dancing and her chest is heaving. She licks her upper lip with the point of her tongue and Brett’s mouth falls open. Clover begins to dance again, slowly at first. He joins her and they look incredible together. The floor clears around them as everyone watches. I’ve never seen anything like it – it’s like something out of
Step Up
or a raunchy version of
High School Musical
.

“Did you see that, Sophie?” I ask her. I can’t help myself.

Sophie says nothing for a moment. Then she surprises me. “OK, I was wrong. He likes her. Big deal.”

Clover spins round and as she’s facing us she rolls her eyes dramatically. I laugh. Clover glances at her watch, then turns and grabs Brett round the neck. Seconds later they’re kissing.

“Look! Look!” Mills squeals, jumping up and down with excitement.

Sophie is pretending to be unimpressed. But she’s watching pretty carefully for someone who’s not interested. Probably taking mental notes. I know for a fact she’s only kissed one boy and that was only for a few seconds.

Brett is really going for it, he’s holding the back of Clover’s head and his arms are octopussing up and down her back.

Seconds later Clover pulls away and shrieks, “Eoi Moi Gawd! Eoi Moi Gawd! Eoi Moi Gawd!” in a cut-glass D4 accent. Her hands are flapping around in the air like bird’s wings and then I spot it. Huge glossy red dollops on her white T-shirt. They’re dripping from her mouth.

The whole hall stops and everything seems to go into slow motion, like it’s happening under water. The only sound is the
thump
,
thump
,
thump
of the music.

“That’s blood!” Sophie shrieks. She points at Brett. “He bit her. That boy bit her.”

Sophie loves being the centre of attention. You can always rely on her to make a scene. She rushes over to Clover, takes her hand and drags her towards the girls’ loo.

“Eoi Moi Gawd!” Sophie shouts loudly, so that everyone can hear her. “You poor thing. You must be utterly traumatized.”

“Oh I am, I am,” Clover says. I can tell she’s trying not to laugh. She secretly hands me something. I clutch it in my palm until we get into the loos. Then I look down. Two empty plastic vials in the shape of large pills. Fake blood from the joke shop. Now I understand. I feel a little sorry for Brett, it is rather extreme. But I can’t help smiling to myself all the same.

While Clover washes the “blood” off her face and dabs at her T-shirt with a piece of damp, crumbling toilet paper, Sophie tells the audience in the loo about Clover’s horrific experience. The D4s are all ears, especially a certain girl called Charlene.

I
race over to Clover’s after school on Monday. She’s lying sideways on Gran’s old sunlounger, face buried in the flowery orange and green seventies material of the cushion. She’s snoring loudly, making a strange clucking noise at the back of her throat, her breath whistling in and out of her mouth. Mum says Clover’s always snored, even as a baby, but Clover denies it.

She looks really cute and I take a picture of her with my mobile. Hearing the click she stirs, flops on to her back and, putting her hand over her eyes to shade them from the bright sunlight, gives me a lazy-cat smile.

“Hey, Beanie.” She rolls up her vest top and tucks it into the bottom of her bra, exposing her flat stomach to the rays. “Isn’t this sun gorge? How was school?”

I sit down on the edge of the lounger, almost toppling it. I pull over a sun-bleached green plastic chair instead. “OK. Did you hear from Wendy? I’m dying to know.”

Clover grins. “Sure did. The plan worked.”

“Really?”

“Yup. Her email’s probably still up on the screen if you want to have a look. Big success. And Saffy likes my piece on revenge. She said it’s very original, if a little dark. She’s edited it down, something about libel laws and getting sued.”

“How exciting! Your very first article. Can I read it?”

Clover grins. “Sure.” She reaches down and grabs a purple plastic folder off the grass and hands it to me. I start to read an extract.

“Expert?” I look at Clover and raise my eyebrows.

Clover laughs. “Hey, I dealt with Brett, didn’t I?”

I smile and read on.