Sleepovers by Jacqueline Wilson Page A

her sleepover,” said Bella.
    Chloe frowned.
    â€œWe can
all
have sleepovers on our birthdays,” said Emily quickly. “Then we can each choose the way we want them to be. If we’re allowed. My mum’s going nuts looking after my baby brother but I
think
she’ll let me have a sleepover.”
    â€œMine will too,” said Bella.
    â€œMy mum lets me do anything I like,” said Chloe. “So does my dad.”
    I didn’t say anything. I hoped they wouldn’t notice. But they were all looking at me.
    â€œCan you have a sleepover too, Daisy?” said Emily.
    â€œOh sure,” I said quickly, but my heart started thumping under my new school sweatshirt.
    It wasn’t my birthday
yet
, thank goodness.
    I couldn’t have a sleepover party. I didn’t want to tell them why. I might have told Emily by herself. But I didn’t want to tell the others. Especially not Chloe.

 
    Â 
    I TOLD MUM about Amy’s sleepover party while we were having tea.
    â€œThat’s lovely, Daisy,” she said, but I could tell she wasn’t really listening. She was too busy concentrating on feeding my sister, Lily.

    â€œThere now, Lily, yum yum,” Mum mumbled, spooning yoghurt into Lily’s mouth. Mum’s own mouth opened and shut. Lily’s mouth didn’t always open and shut at the right time. It snapped shut so the spoon clanked against her teeth, or suddenly gaped open so the yoghurt drooled down her chin.
    Mum mopped at her. Lily’s arm jerked upand she tried to grab the cloth.
    â€œThere! Did you see that, Daisy? Lily’s trying to wipe her own chin.
Clever
girl, Lily!”
    â€œMm, clever girl,” I said.
    My sister Lily isn’t clever. She isn’t my little baby sister. She isn’t little at all. She’s my big sister. She’s eleven years old but she isn’t in the top year at school. Lily doesn’t go to my new school. She didn’t go to my old school either. She never used to go to school at all, she just stayed at home with Mum, but now she goes to this new special school. That’s why we moved, so that she could go there. It’s a special school because Lily has special needs. That’s the right way to describe her. There are lots and lots of
wrong
ways. Some children at my old school used to call Lily horrible names when they saw Mum pushing her in the street. They used to call me names too.
    I don’t think Emily would call Lily horrible names. Or Amy or Bella. But I’m not at all sure about Chloe.
    I’d shut up about my sister Lily since I’d started to go to this new school. I didn’t want anyone calling her names.
    Though
I
call her names sometimes. I get mad at her. She isn’t like a real sister. We can’t playtogether and swap clothes and dance and giggle and mess about. She’s not like a big sister because she can’t ever tell me stuff and hold my hand across roads and watch out for me at school. She’s not like a little sister either because she’s too big to sit on my lap and she’s too heavy for me to carry around. It’s even getting a struggle to push her in her wheelchair.

    Something went wrong with Lily when she was born. She won’t ever be able to walk or talk. Well, that’s what Dad says. Mum says we just don’t know. Dad says we do know, but Mum won’t face facts. Mum and Dad have rows about Lily and I hate it. Sometimes I almost hate her because she’s always in the way and she cries a lot and she wakes us all up in the night and she takes up so much time. But I always feel lousy if I’m mean to Lily. I get into her bed at nightwhen Mum and Dad are asleep and I whisper sorry in Lily’s ear. I cuddle her. She doesn’t exactly cuddle me back but she acts like she’s glad I’m there. She makes these little soft sounds. I pretend it’s Lily talking to me in her own secret language. I whisper