Not Pretty Enough by Jaimie Admans

looking at us funny.”
    “I think he’s the manager, and
we’re hiding behind his display of Pot Noodles. Of course he’s looking at us
funny.”
    Debs sighs.
    “Just go and pay for the ice
cream,” I say. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
    “Finally.”
    She thinks I’m going to talk to
Lloyd, but I’m not. I’m going to follow him. I just want to see if my hunch is
correct. It’s not like I’m going to stalk him or anything. I just want to know
if he does live around here. If he heads towards a car park then I’ll know that
Debs is correct and he’s just got his limousine to stop on the way home. But I
think he must live here. No one would come into the centre of Cardiff for the
sole purpose of buying a loaf of bread. Not even Lloyd Layton.
    I slip out of the shop and keep
my eyes on Lloyd. Luckily it’s not hard to keep sight of him in the crowd due
to his height. It makes him really easy to harmlessly follow out of curiosity.
Although even I have to admit that following Lloyd Layton through Cardiff is
not the way I planned to spend my summer holidays. It is quite fun though. I
feel like a ninja. I just hope that he doesn’t look round. Lloyd heads down a
side street, that if I remember correctly from Googling maps this morning,
leads to the outskirts of the city.
    The
perfect spot for rich people’s houses , my brain whispers to me.
    I think I’m definitely on the
right track with thinking he lives here. How coincidental is that? We just
happen to be in Cardiff – somewhere we rarely go – on exactly the same day that
he just happens to be popping out for bread and milk. That just has to mean something,
right?
    I think I believe in fate, and I
think that Debs and I were in Sainsbury’s at exactly the right time today for a
reason.
    So I could follow Lloyd Layton
home and find out where he lives. It just proves to me that I shouldn’t give up
on Lloyd yet. Even though in the past couple of weeks I have, among other
mortifying things, stabbed him in the foot with a javelin, made him sit on an
ants nest and got him stung by a bee.
    If nothing else, there’s always
next term.
    I wish it was raining today so I
had an umbrella to hide behind. Umbrellas are excellent tools for hiding. Not
that I’m an expert at stalking or anything, I just know that I could hide quite
successfully behind an umbrella, but on a day like today, when the sun is
beating down, it would make me look more conspicuous.
    Lloyd is a very fast walker. I
have to admit I’m panting a bit given the heat and the pace. But I never
expected him to dawdle, given how fast a runner he is, and how much he loves
sports.
    I’m not very good with directions,
and Cardiff is one place I never fail to get lost in, that’s why I Googled a
map of the place this morning, but I think we’re on the outskirts of the city
by now. It’s not exactly countryside, but the gardens of the houses we pass are
bigger than normal, and it’s very quiet here.
    We turn down another side street
and hit roadworks. Yikes, that is noisy. They’re drilling and digging and there
are yellow machines and red cones everywhere. At least there’s a tree, which I
stop behind, because Lloyd turns and casts an unimpressed glance at the
roadworkers, and if he turns just an inch more, he’ll catch sight of me. Thank
God for this tree.
    I stay behind my tree and watch
as he walks a little further down the road, and then turns into a driveway that
has two posh-looking cars parked in it. This must be it. This must be where he
lives.
    When he reaches the front door,
he takes a key out of his pocket and lets himself in.
    I knew .
    I just knew I was right.
    I make my way back to Debs in
town, retracing my steps carefully and trying to memorize the way. I should
have left a trail of Skittles. Not that I ever intend to come back here or
anything. I mean, really, I don’t. But if Lloyd Layton ever forgets where he
lives, he’ll thank me for being able to tell him.
    I