1
As we drove closer to the school, I saw more and more girls in the Langton Girls Grammar uniform of pleated navy skirt and pale blue shirt. I smoothed my own skirt over my knees, my hands clammy with sweat. The pleats made me look like a great dumpy blob.
I’d waited for so long for this first day at my new school – and now it was here I felt terrified. I’d been to the school before of course – once on the open day, once for the post-exam interview and once for the initiation day at the end of last term. But this was different.
We turned a corner and the throng of passing girls seemed to ease up for a moment.
‘Drop me here, Mum,’ I said. ‘Please.’ My voice came out slightly hoarse.
‘What?’ Mum glanced sideways at me. ‘But we’re 1
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still two streets away. I told work I’d be in late so I can drop you right at the door.’
‘You don’t need to, please.’ Girls were swarming the pavements on either side of our car now. It was going to be a warm day. Even now, at eight thirty in the morning, the sun was beating down and my shirt felt stuck to my back. High-pitched squeals and shrieks of laughter drifted in through the open car window. I gripped the handle of my new school bag. Regulation navy, just like the skirt and blazer I was wearing. I looked at the Langton Grammar girls outside. Only a few of them had their blazers on.
Most were carrying them in their arms, their bags –
none of which were regulation like mine – swinging at their sides.
These girls were so loud. And so tall. I would never fit in at this school. I shrank back in my seat and stared down at my bag. Inside was a stack of invitations to go bowling on Saturday, for my birthday. Mum had insisted I take them. She’d said that handing them out would be a great way to break the ice and get to know people. Right now, I couldn’t imagine daring even to mention them.
‘You’ll be fine, River,’ Mum said.
She tapped her nails on the steering wheel as she pulled the car over. I hesitated. Girls were walking past. I didn’t want to be seen getting out of the car.
2
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On the other hand, I could hardly sit here all morning. I peered into the wing mirror. A girl, much smaller than the rest, was shuffling along the pavement. Her movements were slight and delicate, as if she was trying to be invisible. She was wearing a blazer that was clearly two sizes too big for her, her tie was knotted tightly under her chin and she carried a regulation navy bag in her arms.
‘Bye, Mum.’ I opened the car door.
‘River?’ Mum’s gabbling voice trailed after me.
‘Don’t forget all the invites in your bag. Be careful. I love—’
I shoved the door shut as the small girl approached.
She slowed as she saw me and I took in her pale, heart-shaped face and wide, scared blue eyes.
Her white-blonde hair was tied back in the regulation low ponytail required for long hair. I touched my own thick, bushy bob self-consciously as a group of older girls barged past, shouting at the tops of their voices. They didn’t appear to notice us.
I turned and fell into step with the small, blonde girl. We walked for a few seconds in silence.
‘Hi,’ I said. ‘I’m River.’
I held my breath. Everyone at my primary school had got used to my name but I wasn’t looking forward to having to explain it today. Strangers often looked a bit confused when they heard it, but 3
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the pale-faced girl didn’t react at all. She just glanced at me with a shy smile.
‘I’m Grace,’ she said.
We carried on walking.
‘Are you new today, too?’ I said, though it was obvious she was.
‘Yes, year seven,’ Grace said. ‘You?’
I nodded. I couldn’t think of anything to say.
‘Which primary did you go to?’
‘One in Brighton,’ Grace said. ‘We only moved here last month.’ Her voice was almost inaudible. I
As we drove closer to the school, I saw more and more girls in the Langton Girls Grammar uniform of pleated navy skirt and pale blue shirt. I smoothed my own skirt over my knees, my hands clammy with sweat. The pleats made me look like a great dumpy blob.
I’d waited for so long for this first day at my new school – and now it was here I felt terrified. I’d been to the school before of course – once on the open day, once for the post-exam interview and once for the initiation day at the end of last term. But this was different.
We turned a corner and the throng of passing girls seemed to ease up for a moment.
‘Drop me here, Mum,’ I said. ‘Please.’ My voice came out slightly hoarse.
‘What?’ Mum glanced sideways at me. ‘But we’re 1
Acting Friends CS5.indd 1
21/12/2011 11:48
still two streets away. I told work I’d be in late so I can drop you right at the door.’
‘You don’t need to, please.’ Girls were swarming the pavements on either side of our car now. It was going to be a warm day. Even now, at eight thirty in the morning, the sun was beating down and my shirt felt stuck to my back. High-pitched squeals and shrieks of laughter drifted in through the open car window. I gripped the handle of my new school bag. Regulation navy, just like the skirt and blazer I was wearing. I looked at the Langton Grammar girls outside. Only a few of them had their blazers on.
Most were carrying them in their arms, their bags –
none of which were regulation like mine – swinging at their sides.
These girls were so loud. And so tall. I would never fit in at this school. I shrank back in my seat and stared down at my bag. Inside was a stack of invitations to go bowling on Saturday, for my birthday. Mum had insisted I take them. She’d said that handing them out would be a great way to break the ice and get to know people. Right now, I couldn’t imagine daring even to mention them.
‘You’ll be fine, River,’ Mum said.
She tapped her nails on the steering wheel as she pulled the car over. I hesitated. Girls were walking past. I didn’t want to be seen getting out of the car.
2
Acting Friends CS5.indd 2
21/12/2011 11:48
On the other hand, I could hardly sit here all morning. I peered into the wing mirror. A girl, much smaller than the rest, was shuffling along the pavement. Her movements were slight and delicate, as if she was trying to be invisible. She was wearing a blazer that was clearly two sizes too big for her, her tie was knotted tightly under her chin and she carried a regulation navy bag in her arms.
‘Bye, Mum.’ I opened the car door.
‘River?’ Mum’s gabbling voice trailed after me.
‘Don’t forget all the invites in your bag. Be careful. I love—’
I shoved the door shut as the small girl approached.
She slowed as she saw me and I took in her pale, heart-shaped face and wide, scared blue eyes.
Her white-blonde hair was tied back in the regulation low ponytail required for long hair. I touched my own thick, bushy bob self-consciously as a group of older girls barged past, shouting at the tops of their voices. They didn’t appear to notice us.
I turned and fell into step with the small, blonde girl. We walked for a few seconds in silence.
‘Hi,’ I said. ‘I’m River.’
I held my breath. Everyone at my primary school had got used to my name but I wasn’t looking forward to having to explain it today. Strangers often looked a bit confused when they heard it, but 3
Acting Friends CS5.indd 3
21/12/2011 11:48
the pale-faced girl didn’t react at all. She just glanced at me with a shy smile.
‘I’m Grace,’ she said.
We carried on walking.
‘Are you new today, too?’ I said, though it was obvious she was.
‘Yes, year seven,’ Grace said. ‘You?’
I nodded. I couldn’t think of anything to say.
‘Which primary did you go to?’
‘One in Brighton,’ Grace said. ‘We only moved here last month.’ Her voice was almost inaudible. I
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