sensed she was even more nervous about today than I was. It made me feel slightly better. What was Dad always saying? Everyone feels scared inside, River, even if they’re not showing it.
‘So where d’you live now?’
Grace mumbled the name of a street I didn’t recognise.
We reached the school gates. Both sides were wide open: tall, iron bars with the sign Langton Grammar for Girls just to the right. I looked through at the huge brick building beyond. How many times had I driven past this school in the past two years? I thought back to all the conversations, the tutoring, the tests that had led me here. Everything for ages felt like it had been about me getting into this school.
And now, here I was, on my first day.
4
Acting Friends CS5.indd 4
21/12/2011 11:48
In spite of my nerves, a thrill of excitement shot through me. This was secondary school. A grown-up place to be.
‘We’re supposed to meet our teachers in the entrance hall, aren’t we?’ Grace said timidly.
I nodded. They’d mentioned this at the induction day – and in the pack of papers we’d received at home last month. We headed for the main school building. It was built around a central courtyard, with lots of smaller buildings on either side. The tarmac at our feet glistened in the sunshine.
All of a sudden I was aware of girls – taller girls –
closing in around us, crowding us, herding us forwards. I moved sideways, trying to get out of the way, and bumped into someone. She shrieked. I spun round.
The girl was open-mouthed. She was tall, like the others – and with a shock of dark red, curly hair. She was holding a can of something fizzy – I didn’t see the brand. All I saw was the huge stain from the drink that had splashed down her school shirt.
Had I done that by bumping into her? Oh, no.
Giggles rose up around me.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ I said, feeling myself blushing.
‘I’m really clumsy. It was a total accident. I—’
‘Shut up.’ The girl reached out and shoved my shoulder. I stumbled backwards, my heart racing.
5
Acting Friends CS5.indd 5
21/12/2011 11:48
My bag fell to the ground, my purse spilling out of the front pocket. I bent down to pick them both up.
But the girl whipped down ahead of me. There was a flash of red curls in front of my eyes as she snatched my purse. My fingers closed on the warm, rough tarmac. The girl jumped up.
‘What the hell is this? ’ she sneered.
I froze, still crouching on the ground. A circle of shoes surrounded me. They were all black, though none of them were as flat or as shiny as my own.
Clutching my bag, I stood up. About eight girls – all long-haired and hard-eyed – surrounded me. I had no idea how old they were, but each one of them was at least a head taller than I was. All their ties were ultra-thin and knotted well below their shirt collars. None of them were wearing their blazers. I glanced at Grace. She was standing beside me, shrinking down into herself.
‘I said . . . What. Is. This ?’ the red-haired girl who had taken my purse repeated slowly.
I looked up into her face. Her thin lips were pressed meanly together and she was dangling my purse between her thumb and forefinger. It was made of pink plastic, with a square clasp on the side.
I’d had it for years and the original print of a kitten had long since worn off the front. I’d taken to taping pictures of singers and actors I liked over the plastic.
6
Acting Friends CS5.indd 6
21/12/2011 11:48
The girl pointed to the picture currently on the front of my purse. It was a photo I’d downloaded and printed of Frankie Clarke, the teen actor. I didn’t gush over movie stars like some girls but I had a massive crush on Frankie.
‘I asked you why this is here.’ She was grinning now – a nasty, sneering grin.
I shrugged, my heart hammering against my ribs.
‘I don’t know . . .’
The girl raised her eyebrows. She had a make-up encased spot on her chin. ‘What a freak,’ she
‘So where d’you live now?’
Grace mumbled the name of a street I didn’t recognise.
We reached the school gates. Both sides were wide open: tall, iron bars with the sign Langton Grammar for Girls just to the right. I looked through at the huge brick building beyond. How many times had I driven past this school in the past two years? I thought back to all the conversations, the tutoring, the tests that had led me here. Everything for ages felt like it had been about me getting into this school.
And now, here I was, on my first day.
4
Acting Friends CS5.indd 4
21/12/2011 11:48
In spite of my nerves, a thrill of excitement shot through me. This was secondary school. A grown-up place to be.
‘We’re supposed to meet our teachers in the entrance hall, aren’t we?’ Grace said timidly.
I nodded. They’d mentioned this at the induction day – and in the pack of papers we’d received at home last month. We headed for the main school building. It was built around a central courtyard, with lots of smaller buildings on either side. The tarmac at our feet glistened in the sunshine.
All of a sudden I was aware of girls – taller girls –
closing in around us, crowding us, herding us forwards. I moved sideways, trying to get out of the way, and bumped into someone. She shrieked. I spun round.
The girl was open-mouthed. She was tall, like the others – and with a shock of dark red, curly hair. She was holding a can of something fizzy – I didn’t see the brand. All I saw was the huge stain from the drink that had splashed down her school shirt.
Had I done that by bumping into her? Oh, no.
Giggles rose up around me.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ I said, feeling myself blushing.
‘I’m really clumsy. It was a total accident. I—’
‘Shut up.’ The girl reached out and shoved my shoulder. I stumbled backwards, my heart racing.
5
Acting Friends CS5.indd 5
21/12/2011 11:48
My bag fell to the ground, my purse spilling out of the front pocket. I bent down to pick them both up.
But the girl whipped down ahead of me. There was a flash of red curls in front of my eyes as she snatched my purse. My fingers closed on the warm, rough tarmac. The girl jumped up.
‘What the hell is this? ’ she sneered.
I froze, still crouching on the ground. A circle of shoes surrounded me. They were all black, though none of them were as flat or as shiny as my own.
Clutching my bag, I stood up. About eight girls – all long-haired and hard-eyed – surrounded me. I had no idea how old they were, but each one of them was at least a head taller than I was. All their ties were ultra-thin and knotted well below their shirt collars. None of them were wearing their blazers. I glanced at Grace. She was standing beside me, shrinking down into herself.
‘I said . . . What. Is. This ?’ the red-haired girl who had taken my purse repeated slowly.
I looked up into her face. Her thin lips were pressed meanly together and she was dangling my purse between her thumb and forefinger. It was made of pink plastic, with a square clasp on the side.
I’d had it for years and the original print of a kitten had long since worn off the front. I’d taken to taping pictures of singers and actors I liked over the plastic.
6
Acting Friends CS5.indd 6
21/12/2011 11:48
The girl pointed to the picture currently on the front of my purse. It was a photo I’d downloaded and printed of Frankie Clarke, the teen actor. I didn’t gush over movie stars like some girls but I had a massive crush on Frankie.
‘I asked you why this is here.’ She was grinning now – a nasty, sneering grin.
I shrugged, my heart hammering against my ribs.
‘I don’t know . . .’
The girl raised her eyebrows. She had a make-up encased spot on her chin. ‘What a freak,’ she
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