Rebecca's Rules (2 page)

Went down to get that drink and found Mum and Rachel drinking hot chocolate and watching an old black and white musical in the sitting room. I didn’t mean to stay, but the dancing was really cool so I found myself watching the rest of it with them. It turns out it is quite hard to feel miserable when you are watching people dance like that. I didn’t tell Mum or Rachel that, though. I pretended I just happened to feel like sitting in that room for a bit. I don’t think they would understand that just because you are VERY TEMPORARILY enjoying some old-fashioned dancing it doesn’t mean that your heart is not broken forever.

SUNDAY

Band practice this afternoon. We haven’t been practising so much recently because Cass had a piano exam last week and her parents were making her practise Mozart etc all the time rather than the collected works of Hey Dollface. Which is a shame because without really realising it at the time, we actually have got better. And like many great artists over the years, my terrible personal tragedy has fuelled my creative powers.

‘You know, on the plus side,’ said Cass, about a week after Paperboy left, when I had more or less stopped crying all the time, ‘not that there really is a plus side of course. But if there was, it would be that Paperboy going away will give you lots of material for songs.’

‘It’s true,’ said Alice. ‘I bet writing songs would be very therapeutic. So would banging those drums very hard, by the way.’ We were sitting in our practice room out at Alice’s place in Kinsealy at the time. Cass had come up with a new bassline and Alice was putting chords to it. I was meant to be drumming along, but I was so miserable I just tapped forlornly at the snare drum. After Alice said that, I started bashing them a bit harder and it did make me feel better. And so did writing
some lyrics about what it’s like to meet the boy of your dreams and then lose him to the wilds of Canada (or the Vancouver suburbs, if you’re going to be finicky about it). The first one I wrote went like this:

I was quite proud of it, to be honest, though Cass pointed out (quite kindly) that Paperboy isn’t actually Canadian. But ‘boy from Clontarf who’s gone to Canada’ just looked weird, so Canadian Boy will have to do. We’ve turned it into quite a good song − we played it at practice today and it didn’t sound bad. The thing about being a drummer, though, is that it’s quite hard to write songs on your own. I mean, you can’t work out chords or anything so it’s hard to come up with a tune. Alice and Cass are both getting quite good at coming up with riffs and things on their own, and when we’re all together I suggest different things to each of them, but because I can’t play myself I have to rely on them to do everything.

The good thing is that I would really rather bash away at my drums than be a guitarist. And besides, Alice is getting really great at the guitar. I mean, she’s had lessons so she was always able to do, like, the fancy classical stuff, but now she’s really good at playing poppy choppy chords. And even though Cass used to act like she’d never be able to play her keyboard in an indie sort of way, she’s a natural at coming up with basslines and cool noises. If we ever get a bass player, she’ll be able to do even more. Even I’ve got better at the drums. It almost happened without my noticing it. I just kept bashing away and eventually I realised that I was able to play beats properly without actually thinking about it (of course, this means that as soon as I actually do think about what I’m doing, I instantly make a mistake. I think this shows that I am an instinctive natural musician).

But even my beloved drums can’t cheer me up too much at the moment. The practice went pretty well today, and everything, but I still feel like a hollow shell of a girl. Since Paperboy left, I can’t seem to feel enthusiastic about anything. And I’m starting to think Cass and Alice might be a bit bored with hearing about Paperboy, which, to be honest, I think is quite selfish of them. I know I’d be sympathetic if either of them
met the love of her life and then he went off to the other side of the world after just three weeks. They don’t know what it’s like to suffer.

Cass even said today that the last lyrics I wrote (for a song with the working title ‘The End of the World’) were ‘a bit too gloomy’. What does she know? She’s having a great time! She’s become great friends with Liz from Bad Monkey, the band we met at the Battle of the Bands, and they’re off together practically every weekend.

In fact, I feel like I hardly see her any more. And Alice and I don’t walk to school these days because a few months ago − just after the Battle of the Bands, actually – her mum got a new job and her route to work doesn’t take her near my house now, so now she just drops Alice off near the school instead of near me. So I hardly see any of them. Well, apart from band practices. And actual school.

But still. I feel like our friendship needs a bit of a, I dunno, a kick or something. It’s like I’ve forgotten how to talk to Cass and Alice about anything but how awful I feel. I know I want them to be sympathetic when I’m miserable, but I don’t want them to HAVE to be sympathetic, if you know what I mean. I’m not sure even I know what I mean. I just wish I could get
things back to the way they used to be, but it’s like I’ve got stuck in a rut or something. And I want to get out of it. But how?

Still no mail from Paperboy, by the way.

I have decided to start expressing my woe in poetry. It’s actually easier than writing song lyrics because it doesn’t have to rhyme. Here is this evening’s creation. I am quite proud of it.

I think it is very poignant. And ‘boy of paper’ is quite clever if I say so myself. I think I should write more. I used to write
quite a lot of stories when I was little, but I’ve sort of got out of the habit. Maybe my broken heart really will fuel my creative powers?

Can’t think of anything to write now. Hmmm. I think I will go and watch some telly instead.

MONDAY

I now have proof that my heart is broken – Miss Kelly’s terrifying geography classes don’t even bother me anymore. She spent today’s class telling us that because of overpopulation the world won’t be able to produce enough food to feed everyone, and so in a few years we will all have to eat insects and creepy crawlies in order to survive.

‘They’re an excellent source of protein,’ she says. ‘You get more protein per gram from a locust than from a chicken. I’ve tried them myself in Latin America.’

Everyone in the class was going ‘Ugh!’ and looking a bit unwell but of course that didn’t stop Miss Kelly. The more
scared we are, the more enthusiastic she gets. After about ten minutes of her raving about how delicious certain sorts of worms were, Jessie McCabe had to run out because she thought she was going to be sick. Normally I would feel the same. I used to have nightmares about tidal waves and water wars after her classes. But today I couldn’t even bring myself to care. If I can’t have Paperboy, I might as well just sit around eating insects.

At the end of the class I think Miss Kelly was a bit worried that she’d gone too far because she told us that not all insects were safe to eat and we shouldn’t go out and try eating random bugs. Like any of us were sitting in the class going, ‘Oh yes, Miss Kelly, eating grasshoppers in some sort of post-apocalyptic wasteland sounds brilliant, I think I’ll start doing it straight away!’ I mean, even though I might have lost all faith in the future and I don’t care what happens, I’m not going to start eating bugs until I absolutely have to.

TUESDAY

Cass and I went to the library after school. I love libraries; it’s like going shopping for books only you’re allowed to take
away whatever you want for free! As long as you have space on your library card and don’t owe loads of fines like SOME people (Cass). Unfortunately, when we went in to the library today, the first thing I saw was a display of new books with my mother’s stupid teen novel right at the front with a ‘Children’s Book of the Month’ sign on top of it. And next to it was a big coffee table book full of photos of Canada! Even the library has turned against me.

Anyway, I ignored this terrible display and headed for the teenage section, and we both found some good books (Well, they look good. Sometimes I just base my decisions on the cover). Cass took a deep breath and marched up to the desk to check hers out. When she scanned her ticket the librarian looked sternly at Cass and said, ‘Ah, Miss McDermott. I hope you remember to bring these books back on time.’ This is because Cass once took some books out and didn’t give them back for about two years. The fines were enormous. She says once it reached a certain stage she was too embarrassed to give them back so she just didn’t go to the library for a while. The library wrote to her house, but she hid the letters like some sort of criminal. To be honest, I’m surprised they ever let her have a library ticket again after all that, but clearly librarians
are a forgiving lot. So once she had given back the books and paid a giant fine, they decided to let bygones be bygones. Well, most of them, anyway. This one hasn’t forgotten. But she did give Cass the books.

In fact, I had a worse time checking books out because the librarian knows who I am too (we’ve all been going to this library since before we could read).

‘Ah,’ she said. ‘I hope you saw your mother’s book in our display! It’s doing very well, you know. There’s a waiting list for it and everything.’

She smiled at me like she thought I’d be pleased, whereas of course the thought of loads of people basically queuing up to read about that terrible Ruthie does not please me at all. Anyway, I just said, ‘Oh, really?’ in what I hope was a polite voice and luckily the librarian left it at that THANK GOD. I am fed up being polite to people about that stupid book, especially now that my life is even more of a tragedy.

On a more positive note, Cass thought of something when we were walking back from the library. She pointed out that if Miss Kelly is right about the future being electricity-free, then it’s a good thing we like reading. At least we’ll be able to amuse ourselves reading by candlelight when all the power has run
out, and books will distract us from our insect-eating lives of toil. Cass is surprisingly practical sometimes.

I mentioned this to my mother when I got home and she said, ‘I think your geography teacher is exaggerating a bit. I don’t think we’re going to be living without power or eating bugs any time soon.’

She would think that, though, because she and my dad are so hideously wasteful. They don’t care about the environment at all. When I got home she was the only one there and yet the lights were on in practically every room in the house! If we do all end up huddling around a fire without any electricity in a few years, it’ll be all her fault.