Growing Yams in London (8 page)

Amazonian Anoushka was the prettiest and tallest girl in our school. She was on nearly all the school sports teams, modelled and got really good grades too. The rest of the
school were divided between those who liked her and those who hated her but secretly wanted to be her. I liked her as she used to be my maths tutor before she got too busy with modelling.

I clicked out of MSN and wondered whether my date with Nelson had been totally jinxed or not. I guess Bharti was right: it was funny that we got interrupted twice whilst
kissing. At least we kissed. But did that really mean he liked me? What if he was being polite or something? Was he really worth lying to my parents about?

We had just spent the past half-hour watching the most boring video on Britain in the 1930s and now knew what life was like before World War Two. The streets looked a bit like
the set of
Coronation Street,
but I just kept wondering what the rest of the world looked like.

‘Lights,’ bellowed Mrs Hipman. She handed out a worksheet based on the video we had just watched.

‘This is so boring!’ said Mel, as we completed the answers.

‘Yeah, didn’t you think the streets looked like
Coronation Street?
’ Bharti said.

‘That’s just what I thought!’ I added and we all sniggered.

‘You two are such Londoners!’ Mel commented.

‘When is she going to tell us about our projects?’ whispered Bharti.

‘Good question,’ I said.

‘Excuse me, I’m talking to you!’ boomed Mrs Hipman.

We all jumped.

‘Ohmigod! Miss, you scared us,’ Mel said.

‘Well, whatever it takes to get your attention,’ she replied. ‘Right, I have your essay plans here.’

An excited buzz immediately fell over the class. We all wanted to know if our plans could be developed into essays. I watched as everyone had their plans returned and realised that I
hadn’t received mine.

‘Brilliant, I can use it!’ said Bharti. ‘I just have to be careful about listing sources. Where’s yours?’

‘I don’t know. Excuse me, Miss?’ I said raising my hand.

‘Yes?’

‘Um . . . Miss, I haven’t got my work back,’ I said.

‘Oh yes, Makeeda, I need to speak to you.’

The bell rang for our next lesson.

‘Right, ladies, I want you to start writing your essays for homework.’

‘Yes, Miss,’ the others chorused as they rushed out.

‘Miss, I’m going to be late for my next lesson,’ I said.

I watched as she scribbled on a piece of paper and gave it to Bharti.

‘Are you in the same lesson?’

‘Yes, Miss,’ Bharti replied.

‘Give this to your teacher,’ she said, shoving the letter in Bharti’s hand. ‘And close the door!’

‘Yes, Miss,’ Bharti said, rushing off.

‘Take a seat, Makeeda.’

I was actually beginning to wish I was in science with Mrs Connelly screaming at me to pay attention to an experiment.

‘I’ll come straight to the point.’

Great! I folded my arms across my chest. It was obviously bad news then.

‘I don’t think you can create an essay using your choice of topic.’

‘What? Why?’ I said, shocked.

‘Well for a start, your grades have been floating between A and C for the past year . . .’

‘That’s not fair. Everyone’s grades are like that, and I’ve only ever got three Cs, the rest are As and Bs!’ I said, standing up.

‘Sit down. I just think this essay would be too much of a stretch for you. Besides, you won’t be able to find enough resources for Yaa Asantewaa. Pick an alternative subject for your
essay. You could do Mary Seacole,’ she said.

She’s got to be joking! Apart from Mel and me, the other four black girls in our year had probably already claimed that topic as their own.

‘Come on, Miss, give me a chance. I can do it!’

‘Makeeda, I’m not repeating myself. Choose another topic and resubmit your plan to me by Thursday of next week,’ she said, and began sorting out her papers.

‘Fine,’ I mumbled.

Within minutes I was slipping into a bench station in the science block, next to Bharti and Mel. It was nice having Mel around without Laura. It sounded mean, but I was glad Laura had gone home
early for a dental appointment.

‘Are you OK?’ Bharti asked.

‘No, not really,’ I replied, before filling them in on all the details.

‘Hey, put on your overall before Connelly notices,’ Mel reminded me.

‘Cheers,’ I said, practically emptying my rucksack to find it.

Within minutes, Bharti was pouring a solution into the test tube (that I was holding using tongs) and Mel was using a thermometer to record its temperature before heating. I placed it in the
flame of the Bunsen burner as our conversation changed to soap hunks.

‘Definitely that really cute guy in the soap about stepfamilies,’ I said.

‘Who?’ Bharti asked.

‘The one who plays the older brother,’ I said.

‘Ohmigod, he’s soo ancient!’ Mel said, laughing.

‘Who are you talking about?’ demanded Bharti.

‘The guy who played the nerd in that school soap,’ Mel explained.

‘Makeeda!’ yelled Mrs Connelly, rushing towards me.

‘Whaat?’ I said, confused.

She turned off the Bunsen burner and took the tongs and test tube from me. I noticed it had changed to a weird shade of orange, unlike the test tubes everyone else was holding which were pale
egg-yoke colours.

‘I can’t believe you overheated the solution! That’s it, I’m splitting you three up! You’re a danger to yourselves and my equipment,’ Mrs Connelly
exclaimed.

‘Sorry, Miss,’ we chorused, desperately trying not to laugh. Luckily the bell rang signalling the end of the day.

‘Clear off the lot of ya!’ Mrs Connelly shouted, but most of the class were already out of the door.

‘Hey, are you two coming to the netball trials?’ Mel said.

‘Er no,’ I replied.

‘Hey, wait up!’ Laura screamed, as she ran up to us.

‘What are you doing here?’ Mel said, smiling.

‘I wasn’t going to miss the trials. I would’ve been here earlier, but I couldn’t be bothered to go to history or science. So I hung out with Jordan and Nelson. They
finished early today.’

Nelson? What was she doing with him?

‘Ready?’ Laura asked Mel.

‘Yeah, I was just trying to convince these two to come along,’ Mel said.

‘Oh,’ Laura said, surprised.

‘The last time we were on the team, I got disqualified for elbowing the Wing Defence in the eye and Makeeda sprained her ankle chasing that girl from St Mary’s,’ Bharti
said.

‘Don’t remind me!’ I said, wincing.

Every time I thought about that particular match, I recalled the agony of landing in a funny way and thinking I was going to die from the pain.

‘Oh yeah, I remember your starring moment ruined by a sprained ankle!’ Mel said, laughing. She hooked her arm in mine and made me run ahead of the other two.

‘So how are things with Mr DJ?’ she asked.

‘OK. We’re meeting up at the weekend.’

‘Ah huh, the second date! Excited?’

‘Well, not really – more nervous . . .’ I began.

‘Hey, did I tell you I heard that Nelson once dumped a girl for being a poor kisser?’ Laura called from behind us.

‘What?’ Bharti said, horrified, looking at me.

‘That’s rubbish! He’s not like that!’ Mel said.

‘Well, it’s what I heard!’ Laura added, staring directly at me, her eyes shining.

The others waited for me to reply, but I had nothing to say. I was in shock. What if Laura was right? I mumbled my goodbyes and almost ran out of school.

‘Hey, wait up!’ Bharti called, huffing and puffing for breath. ‘What was all that about? You know Laura’s just winding you up.’

‘I know but . . .’

‘Makeeda, what’s up?’

‘I’m worried that Nelson will dump me on our second date.’

‘Er, why?’

‘Because . . . because . . .’ I couldn’t think of what to say.

‘Because you have bad taste in nineties rock music, which you always deny? Or because of your weird sardine, onion and ketchup sandwiches?’

‘Shut up!’ I said, laughing.

‘Don’t worry about it. You’ll be fine. Mercury comes out of retrograde tomorrow.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, so you should be OK!’ she said, unconvincingly. ‘Although . . . I foresee dark clouds brewing above Laura,’ Bharti added.

‘Really?’

‘Nope, she’s a Gemini – they’re always lucky!’ Bharti said with a smile.

We kept talking till we saw a good-looking boy waiting at the bus stop. He was about Nelson’s height and had the same school uniform on.

‘Ohmigod! I think I’m in love,’ Bharti whispered.

Then we both shut up. Judging by the silly grin on her face, Bharti was locked in a fantasy world with our unknown companion, whilst I was still concerned about my second date with Nelson. Laura
could actually be right and Nelson could be using this second date to dump me for being a poor kisser! My mind drifted between Nelson and my history essay. There was no way Mrs Hipman was going to
make me write about someone else. I’d never got into an argument with a teacher before, but there was something about Yaa Asantewaa that made me want to fight.