Keep the Faith (8 page)

‘And have you learnt nothing from that? We all need to be firm in our beliefs.’

Then Lily chipped in. ‘My mum says we should all be ourselves. That’s the only way to find someone who is perfect for you. There’s a lid for every pot. That’s what she
says.’

There was a moment of silence while we all contemplated exactly what kind of crazy boy-lid would match Lily’s potty pot.

‘Actually,’ said Megs, ‘I am quite myself with Cam . . . just not the myself that eats tuna straight from the can or picks her toenails.’

‘I think that counts as good manners rather than hiding your inner light,’ I said. ‘Anyway, now that we’re all clear that we’ll never be the kind of girl that just
agrees with a boy for the sake of it, can we get back to my brilliant idea?’

Megs sniffed. ‘I thought you told me earlier that it was your mum’s idea.’

‘She’s my mum; she’s supposed to give me all her good stuff.’

‘I’m not sure about this debating,’ Megs said. ‘Don’t you think that the boys will have an unfair advantage because they’ve got foghorn Westy?’

‘It’s not about who argues the loudest. It’s about who argues the bestest and who is most, you know, good with words.’

‘Do we have to speak in front of everyone?’ Angharad asked.

I smiled at her. ‘Yep. It’ll be good for you, Ang. After a couple of weeks’ practice, you’ll be talking at levels audible to all, instead of just those who have got their
ear pressed against your lips.’

‘I know someone who’d like to press their ear to Ang’s lips,’ Lily said.

‘Oooh, yes!’ I patted Ang enthusiastically on the back. ‘Have you got any further with Elliot?’

‘We have had a couple of conversations by text.’

‘And?’ I asked. ‘What’s happening?’

Angharad adopted an expression of great dignity and said, ‘We’re taking it slowly.’

‘That’s amazing!’ Megs gushed.

I was starting to feel jealous. ‘So you actually had a chat about your relationship, did you?’

‘Well, not exactly,’ Ang said. ‘We’re going so slowly that we haven’t quite got to the conversation about taking it slowly yet.’

It was pretty easy to convince Ang that she and Elliot definitely need the debating club to help them along, but I spent the rest of the day persuading Megs and Lily. I think they’re
coming round to the idea, but it’s left me exhausted.

I hope convincing the teachers requires less punching.

A poster has gone up at school for a club night next month.

‘What’s a club night?’ Lily asked. ‘Is it like Brownies?’

We looked at the poster. ‘I think it’s meant to be like a nightclub,’ Megs said. ‘You know, music and dancing and people posing.’

‘What here? In the school hall?’ Angharad asked.

‘You’re right,’ I said. ‘It probably will be more like Brownies.’

The poster said the club night has been organised by Year Eleven as part of their charity fund-raising.

‘Zoe says that Icky is on the fund-raising committee,’ Angharad said.

My mouth fell open. ‘How does she do it?’ I asked.

‘Do what?’ Ang asked.

‘She always manages to get into everything. Committees, Year Eleven cliques, boys’ mouths . . .’

‘I’m not sure this club night is going to be anything to be proud of,’ Megs said. ‘Who wants to go to a party at school?’

‘Bet the music will be awful,’ Angharad said.

Lily screwed up her face. ‘They’ll have teachers on patrol to stop any snogging.’

‘We’re really too cool to even bother turning up,’ Megs said.

We all nodded.

‘Which just leaves us with one question,’ I said. ‘What are we going to wear?’

To help Ang along with Elliot while we’re getting the debating club off the ground, Megs has arranged for us to meet the boys in the park on Saturday. I wasn’t
sure about going when Megs first suggested it.

I said to her, ‘You shouldn’t just assume that I’m free. What if I was meeting Finn?’

She pursed her lips. ‘Are you meeting Finn?’

‘Not at the moment.’

‘You can’t hang about like a lemon waiting for him to call. You’re coming out with us.’

I let her bully me, just this once. ‘I can see that you’re on the verge of tears because you can’t bear the thought of being away from me so I’ll come.’

‘Good, you’ll enjoy seeing Ethan,’ Megs smirked.

‘I’ll enjoy seeing
everyone
.’

When I got to school this morning, I couldn’t find my registration snack or my Chemistry homework, so I emptied the contents of my bag on the table. I still
couldn’t find my post-breakfast pasty, but I did find a couple of Bourbons that were only a bit fluffy around the edges. While I was tucking in, Mrs Webber arrived. I thought I’d let
her in on my brilliant idea about debating.

I said, ‘Mrs W, I am going to set up a club. It’s completely educational and will keep us off the streets and all that. I know how you love to support young people with their futures
as long as it doesn’t interfere with your online poker playing, so when you’ve got a minute free could you sort the room out for me? Something with a coffee machine would be
good.’

Mrs Webber held up a hand. ‘Hold on, hold on, what’s this all about, Faith?’

‘I want to start a debating club with the boys’ school.’

‘I see.’ She curled her lip up in that quite annoying way she has. You’d think, when she was younger, that she would have slept with her mouth Sellotaped into a more attractive
arrangement to sort that out.

‘You’ve got such a suspicious nature, Mrs W!’ I said. ‘It’s all above board. Just a select handful of gifted and talented boys and girls learning the ancient art of
arguing. That’s pretty wholesome, isn’t it?’

She unbuttoned her lip to say, ‘It will need organising.’

‘I can organise.’

Mrs Webber looked pointedly at the contents of my bag which were still higgledy-piggledy on the table.

I fished out my Chemistry book from the sweet wrappers and misdemeanour slips. ‘See? This is exactly where I thought it would be.’

Mrs W leant forward and peeled off the remains of a marmite sandwich from the front cover.

I puffed out a breath of exasperation. ‘Well, I’m not going to be organising sandwiches, am I?’

‘I think you’ll find that teenagers require a lot more instruction than bread products.’

‘What? Honestly, you adults make such a fuss about looking after teenagers. All we really need is large amounts of cash and food.’

‘And someone to mop up afterwards.’ Mrs Webber helped herself to one of the Skittles in my bag pile. ‘I admire your commitment to extracurricular activities, Faith, but
you’ll have to find a teacher to help you run it. Why don’t you try the English department?’

‘Because they’re a load of self-obsessed, unpublished poets with questionable taste in shoes?’

‘Or you could talk to Miss Ramsbottom.’

As you know, I have always been very fond of the English department.

I met Finn in Juicy Lucy’s after school. I’d been thinking about what I said to the girls about how you have to be firm in your beliefs when talking to boys, so
I decided that I should discuss my firmest belief with Finn – the one where I believe that Finn should be my boyfriend. After a bit of preliminary chit-chat about whether Spider-Man would be
any good at surfing, I said, ‘So . . . we’ve been seeing each other a bit.’

Finn nodded.

‘I have a good time with you.’

‘I have a good time with you too, Faith. You’re always telling funny stories.’

‘Oh, thanks.’

‘Like the crazy vampire lady story you made up.’

I didn’t think it was the time to explain that while Miss Ramsbottom seems to be the stuff of horror films she is actually terrifyingly real, so I moved on.

‘Um . . .’ Which wasn’t the opening I’d rehearsed in my head. ‘I was thinking that maybe we should make it official.’

‘Official?’ His nose creased like he was afraid there was paperwork involved.

‘You know, like boyfriend and girlfriend.’

For a split second, I thought he was going to tell me that he was a free spirit and didn’t want to be tied down, but instead his face cracked into a smile and he said, ‘That would be
awesome.’

Which is pretty . . . awesome.

So it’s official. Finn Ryland is my boyfriend.

I don’t want to become one of those types who only talks about their extremely attractive, adorable and sweet boyfriend, so I thought I’d bless my friends with
some help with their own love lives. As you know, I am always sensitive in the delicate matter of love, so at lunchtime I said, ‘Ang, will it be tongues for you and Elliot at the park
tomorrow?’

Ang looked like I’d given her an electric shock.

‘No? Maybe you could just warm up with a bit of direct eye contact?’

Ang nodded and squared her shoulders in the way that soldiers do before they march off to war. ‘I’ve got a few topics of conversation planned,’ she said. ‘I thought
I’d start by asking how the cold weather affects his paper round.’

‘Uh-huh, sounds like a cosy time for you two. What about you, Lily? How about getting snoggy with Westy?’

Lily drew herself up tall and looked down her nose at us. ‘I’m afraid my affections are engaged elsewhere.’

We laughed our heads off.

‘Yeah,’ said Lily, slouching again. ‘But I
am
sort of seeing someone.’ She went back to picking the raisins out of her muffin.

Megs and I squealed, ‘WHAT?’

Angharad, I noticed, said nothing. ‘You knew!’ I said to her. ‘I will sit on you as soon as I don’t need all my attention on interrogating Lily.’

‘Who is it?’ Megs said. ‘What’s happening? Is he your boyfriend? Or just sort of, you know? Where did you meet him?’

I put my hand over her mouth. ‘Megan, silence!’

We all looked at Lily.

She smiled. ‘It’s Arif.’

‘Oh,’ I said.

Arif is Lily’s pen pal. When we were in Year Eight, we had a student teacher who matched us up with pen pals at another school where her friend was studenting. Mine was called Ashley-Rose.
She only wrote to me twice. But Lily has been emailing Arif ever since.

‘Arif?’ Megs said.

Lily nodded.

‘Arif that sent you a list of his top one hundred
Star Wars
moments?’

Lily nodded again.

‘Arif?’

‘Yes, Megs, Arif is the object of Lily’s affections,’ I said, in order to stop us going round in circles.

Megs pulled a face. ‘But . . . you two just talk about weird stuff.’

We’ve all seen Arif’s emails. They are mostly about space travel and characters from sci-fi programmes that the rest of us have never even heard of.

‘Things have taken a slightly more romantic turn,’ Lily said.

I think my eyes bulged. It’s hard to imagine someone you heard dressed up like a dalek for Halloween getting romantic.

‘Do you even know what he looks like?’ Megs asked.

‘I’ve seen photos.’ Lily was starting to sound a bit defensive. ‘He’s got a nice nose.’

Fortunately, the bell rang at that point which was just as well because I could see that Megs was about to say ‘Arif?’ again.

It was our trip to the park today. As usual when we plan to do anything outside, it was absolutely freezing. Ice everywhere. I’m not one to let nature dictate what I
wear so I pulled on my thickest tights and my new denim skirt.

I skidded my way round to Megs’s house to meet up with the girls and we got to the park before the boys. We headed for our usual spot next to the playground. I was ready for a little
sit-down, but when you’re wearing a miniskirt it’s quite hard to get your legs under a picnic table without flashing the crotch of your tights. I was halfway through this delicate
procedure (using Angharad’s head for support) when I heard someone shouting, ‘HELLO, GIRLS!’

Even though I was mid-bench-straddle, I twisted round to watch the unmistakable bulk of Westy heading towards us. He was on a scooter, pumping his leg to build up speed. He launched himself
along the frosty path and it was all going smoothly till he stopped looking where he was going to give us a wave. The scooter hit the edge of the path and he somersaulted over a low fence and
landed on his back in the kids’ sandpit. For a second, I thought he’d knocked himself out, but then he lifted a wobbly arm and gave us a thumbs up.

Good grief. I wish he’d wear a helmet.

All the time.

The rest of the boys appeared through the trees and gave Westy a round of applause. While I was gawping, Ang said to me, ‘Can I have my head back?’ which made me sit down sharpish
and hope that everybody’s eyes had been firmly on Westy and that no one had noticed me airing my knicker region.

The lads came over, tripping each other up and insulting each other’s intelligence, looks and sporting ability. Westy ploughed through them on his scooter. He shook sand out of his hair
like a dog and said, ‘Nice pants, Faith.’

I might have to rethink my dislike of trousers.

We sat about chatting for a while and I explained my brilliant idea for the debating club.

‘Sounds like English lessons,’ Cam said.

‘Sounds like a chance for me to make everyone else feel inferior with my razor-sharp wit,’ Ethan said. ‘You can count me in. As long as it’s not on Mondays because
I’m usually in detention.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘Making whichever teacher put me there feel inferior with my razor-sharp wit.’

‘I’m definitely coming, Faith,’ Westy said. ‘I’m not good at writing stuff down, but I’m really good at talking. And if anyone gets out of hand and starts
fighting I can be security.’

I beamed. Apart from Cam, they seemed very enthusiastic.

‘What about you, Elliot?’ Megs asked, shooting Angharad a look. ‘If we get a debating club set up, will you come?’

Elliot froze. ‘Um . . . I mean . . . I don’t really like getting up in front of people and doing stuff.’

‘It’s only a bit of talking,’ I said.