The Second Virginity of Suzy Green (16 page)

Whatever. This calls for some quick
thinking. I can’t let her start confessing her feelings for George, in front of
George. That would be the sort of embarrassing moment to never be topped in
someone’s entire lifetime. But what can I do?

Suddenly, an
idea pops into my head. It’s freakin’ silly but it might work.

I jump up and
let out a piercing scream. Everyone turns around.

“A rat,” I cry.
“I just saw a rat.” I clench my hands in front of my chest. “Over there.” I
point toward the door.

The noise from
all the others (well, mainly the screaming girls) is deafening. George runs
from where we’re sitting to the door, steadying himself on the chair backs as
he goes. This is working even better than I thought. I didn’t figure he’d play
the hero. Surely Lori will see him now.

“Quiet,” Jamie’s
booms. “Everyone sit down and we’ll sort it out. I’m sure Suzy was mistaken.”

I glance at Lori
who’s now standing near the front of the stage. A look of horror is on her
face. I think we can safely assume she’s seen George. She gestures with her
hand for Jamie to come over. I have no idea what she says but he doesn’t look
happy and she walks back to her place with her head bowed and shoulders
slouched.

***

“Thank you,
thank you thank you.” Lori says. “I owe you big time.”

We’re sitting at
a table in the corner of Starbucks while George and Guy are at the counter. The
meeting pretty much ended after the rat sighting. Thank goodness. George hasn’t
said anything about it. At least, not to me.

“No worries. But
I don’t get it. Why did you go up there? You didn’t even say you were planning
to.”

“Somehow Jamie
found out about me and George at the concert. And he spoke to me about it
earlier this evening before the meeting started. That’s what I wanted to talk
to you about at break but I couldn’t find you.”

“Oh, no. I’m so
sorry. I was with George. But it’s not like you did anything with George. So
why did Jamie say you had to confess stuff? And, more importantly, who told him?”

Lori shakes her head. “That’s what I’ve
been worrying about. You don’t think Rachel would, do you?”

“Nah. Why would
she do that?”

“She’s got a
thing for Jamie and she thinks I have too. Which I haven’t.” Hmm, that’s
debatable. “So if Jamie knows about George he won’t like me so much.” She
pauses a moment, and rubs her nose with her finger. “I’m probably way off base
here. But what other reason is there?”

“No idea.
Anyway, main thing is you didn’t totally embarrass yourself—though my guess is
you’ll have to think of something to tell George. What about saying that Jamie
asked you to come up on stage to encourage some of the newer members? So they
don’t feel so embarrassed. But that you don’t really have anything to confess.”

“Hey, that’s a
good idea. I don’t know how you manage to come up with these ideas all the
time.” Years of practice.

“Neither.
Anyway, going back to Rachel, why don’t you ask her at school and see what she
says?” Suddenly, I start to giggle. “I have to say I’m really impressed at how
effective the rat-trick was. I’ve never had such a good response before.”

Lori’s eyes
widen. “You mean you’ve done that before?”

Shit. What am I
on?

“Not really. At
Maddie’s tenth birthday party I tried it. But no-one took any notice.”

“Hi, is that you
Lori?”

“Yes. Who is
it?’

Yay! My
pathetic, sick voice must be working if she doesn’t recognize me. I do a loud
disgusting sniff and then cough. It sounds like I’ve been on forty cigarettes a
day for a hundred years.

“It’s Suzy,” I
say making my voice come from the back of my throat so it sounds all hoarse.

“I didn’t recognize
you. Are you okay? You sound dreadful.” The concern in her voice makes me feel
really guilty. I hate having to lie like this but what else can I do?

“I feel like
crap.” Sniff, sniff, cough. “There’s no way I’m going to make the picnic. Mom
says I’ve got to stay in bed.” I reckon playing the Mom-card is especially
crafty, as Lori always listens to what her Mom says. A little too much if you
ask me, but that’s another story. And she is the youngest so she’s bound to be
spoilt and wrapped up in cotton-wool a bit. Hey, I’m the youngest. Why didn’t I
get that treatment?

“Oh no. Poor
you. Guy will be so disappointed.”

He will? That’s
news to me. I texted him earlier to say I couldn’t make it because I was sick
and got a very terse text back saying: ‘ok c u monday.’

What’s a girl to
make of that? It’s not as if we haven’t been seeing each other or anything. As
well as our evenings out—of which there have been several—I see him most lunchtimes
at school, unless he’s got a practice or I have a meeting.

If I have a
meeting. It still makes me laugh when I think of it.

“He didn’t seem
to be when I texted him earlier. He didn’t seem at all concerned.”

“I’m sure he
was, but you know what boys are like, can’t show their feelings. I’ll have a
chat with him later, tell him off.”

“It’s fine.
Please don’t say anything.” All I need on top of everything else is for Guy to
think I’ve fallen out with him.

“Okay. If you
don’t want me to. Look why don’t I come over before the picnic starts? I’ll
bring some magazines. Mom bought me the latest Cosmo you can borrow that if you
like.”

“NO,” I shout
then quickly cough to hide it. “I mean, thanks but no you mustn’t. I’m very
contagious and you can’t risk catching anything. Not with the netball finals
coming up.” Notice being ill hasn’t affected my talent for thinking on my feet.
Except I’m not ill, am I? Oh well, whatever. I’m still good at wriggling my way
out of things—hardly surprising the amount of balancing and wriggling I’ve been
doing these last few months. “I’d hate to be responsible for the best player on
the team missing the most important match of the season.”

I launch into a
long cough and throw in a couple of sniffs when I finish. You know I really
should have taken drama. I’m a natural.

“I suppose
you’re right. Well take care. And I’ll ring you as soon as I get home. If
you’re feeling a bit better tomorrow I’ll pop around then.”

You know, this
is so weird. The most popular girl in school and leader of the in-crowd is concerned
about me. And I’m having to let her down. Never in a month of Sundays did I
ever picture myself in this situation. And believe me I’ve envisaged a lot
situations in the past. Well, only the recent past because Maddie and I never
cared about being in the popular group before. We used spend our time laughing
at them.

Just wait ’til
Maddie hears about this. I’m sure she’ll agree this confirms I’ve truly made
it. I’m where I set out to be. And it’s definitely worth all the sacrifices
I’ve had to make. I feel sort of cleansed. A bit like how people must feel
after a colonic irrigation. Gross, what on earth made me think of that? Oh yes.
Maddie mentioned it to me. Said she was thinking of having one. Actually I
think she was winding me up.

“Why don’t I
phone you later instead. In case I’m asleep and the ringing wakes me up, you
know how loud the ring tone is on my cell.” And just in case I’m back after
you, which I could well be as Truck-fest is over an hours drive away.

I glance at my
watch. Crap. I’m going to be late if I don’t get rid of Lori. I have another
coughing fit, which seems to do the trick and we say goodbye. Then I make a mad
dash for the bathroom.

No need to make
an effort, obviously. As I’m not trying to impress. Though for the sake of my
personal pride I can’t go out looking a total wreck so I do put on a light
covering of foundation, some lip-gloss and a touch of mascara—no eye-shadow as
I read recently that you should do lips or eyes and not both. So, now I’m suddenly
an officiando on make-up. It’s truly scary.

More importantly
however, and I’m really excited about this, laid out on my bed for me to wear
is my favorite long black tie-dye skirt and a striped shirt that Maddie gave me
for my birthday last year.

After admiring
them on the bed briefly, I put on my clothes and pull open my closet so I can
see myself in the full-length mirror on the inside of the door. I gasp at my
reflection. It’s like looking at the ghost of Christmas past or whoever it was in
that book. I look strange, but in a familiar sort of way. And the more I stare
at myself the more I like what I see. For want of something better to say, it’s
like I’ve come home. Maddie will laugh when I tell her, she’s always saying I
have over-the-top clichéd tendencies.

“Suzy. Ryan’s
here,” Mom calls.

“Won’t be a
minute.”

Crap. I’m
nowhere near ready. My hair isn’t properly dry which means I’ll be sporting the
ultimate in frizz within a couple of hours. I’ll have to put it up. Even though
Ryan loves it down. Oh no. I seriously didn’t think that. Some evil little
monster in my head planted the thought there.

Right, no
question now. My hair is going up. I grab it with both hands and scrape it as
tightly as I can off my face—so tightly in fact that I almost rip my hair from
my scalp. Ouch. I look in the mirror and cringe. Well, Ryan won’t be under any
illusion that I made an effort for him. That’s for sure.

I run down the
stairs into the hall where Ryan is waiting by the front door leaning casually
against the wall, a lazy cute smile on his face. Stop it.

“Hi Suzy.”

“Hi Ryan. You go
to the car and I’ll join you in a sec. I just want to have a quick word with Mom.”

He frowns but
doesn’t say anything, just shrugs his shoulders then opens the front door and
heads off down the path toward his car.

“Suzy,”
admonishes Mom in that special tone of hers. “That wasn’t very nice.”

Suddenly it
feels like I’ve stepped back into my old life with Mom having a go at me for
everything I do. I wonder if it’s the clothes I’m wearing. They must bring out
the tyrant in her. Or am I doing my usual and blowing things out of
proportion? I guess I could be. I’ll put it down to these nerves of mine which
are messing with my head big time. Not because of my feelings for Ryan, before
anyone gets the wrong idea. But because of all this deceit. It doesn’t sit
right. And I feel I’m setting myself up for a huge fall.

“What wasn’t?” I
reply in the calmest voice I can muster.

“Speaking to
Ryan like that.”

“He doesn’t
mind. Anyway I need to speak to you and I don’t want him to hear.” She doesn’t
look convinced. Oh well not a lot I can do about that now I don’t have time.
“Look, if anyone from school phones, like Lori or Guy, please will you tell
them I’m sick and asleep in bed?”

Now she really
looks cross. She folds her arms and glares at me. And believe me she knows how
to glare. Grown men have withered under less.

“Suzy. If you
think I’m going to lie for you then think again. I’ve warned you before about
playing people off against one another.”

“But Mom you
don’t understand. I can go to VC events any time. How often will I get the
chance to go to Truck-fest? I’ll tell you. Probably never again seeing as it
won’t come back to this area for another five years and who knows where I’ll be
or what I’ll be doing by then. I didn’t have a choice.”

“Of course you
had a choice. There’s always a choice. You could have told your friends about
Truck-fest. They might have wanted to come with you. In fact the club could
have changed the date for their picnic so you could all go.” God help me. She’s
on a roll. “See Suzy there’s always a choice. And lying shouldn’t be one of
them.”

I let out a huge
sigh. She just doesn’t get it. Doesn’t get it at all.

“I know what
you’re saying, Mom. And I’m really sorry for putting you on the spot like this.
But it’s too late to change things now. I’ve already told everyone I’m not
well. You don’t want me to lose all my new friends do you? Especially after I’m
doing so well at school and everything.” Okay so that’s a bit below the belt
but really I have to employ whatever tactics I can. And quickly. Or Ryan might
go without me.

She breathes
loudly through her nose. If fire comes out of her nostrils it wouldn’t surprise
me.

“Just this once.
But don’t ask me to do it again. Because you know what the answer will be.”

“Thanks Mom.
You’re the best.” I fling my arms around her and give her a big kiss on the check.
“See you later. Love you.”

I run down the
path to Ryan’s car, a white Ford I think. Though I could be totally wrong as
apart from Minis I suck when it comes to identifying cars. Whatever, it’s
certainly seen better days that’s for sure. Unlike Guy’s brand new one. Not
that I’m comparing the two. As far as I’m concerned, as long as the car gets me
from one place to another without breaking down I don’t care whether it’s new
or old—but don’t tell Guy I said that because I have a sneaking suspicion he
won’t agree.