Signs of Love - Love Match (11 page)

‘Thanks.’

‘But don’t forget.’ She taps a pile of papers together. ‘This is just between us.’

‘Yeah.’ I slide behind a PC. As I drop my schoolbag on the empty chair beside me, Sam breezes in.

‘Are you saving that seat for me?’ He teases me like I’m an equal, not an age-deprived charity case.

‘It’s for Will actually,’ I shoot back. ‘You know how much he loves Year Nines.’

Cindy flutters out from behind her desk and perches on the front of it. ‘Great gig on Saturday, Sam. You were brilliant.’

‘I guess it went OK.’ Sam scratches his head. ‘We need more practise really.’ He looks at me. ‘What did you think?’

I shrug apologetically. ‘I couldn’t make it in the end. Sorry.’

‘Oh.’ Sam turns away and dumps his bag. His shoulders are drooping like he’s had a long day.

Suddenly Cindy’s flapping papers in my face. ‘Here.’ I take them before she slices off my nose.

She hands another wad to Sam. ‘I’ve printed out everyone’s articles. I thought we could all read them and check for mistakes.’

I quickly scan the sheets and see Jessica Jupiter’s name above the horoscopes. I’m in print! Or rather
Jessica’s
in print. Joy and despair duel like musketeers round my heart.

‘
We’re
reading them?’ Sam raises an eyebrow. ‘I thought editing was your job.’

Cindy smiles sweetly. ‘You can’t expect the editor-in-chief to do all of the proofreading, Sam. And besides, I want everyone to feel part of the process.’

The door squeaks as Phil and David file in. Jeff’s right behind them. As they all grab seats, I slide down in my chair, wilting with embarrassment as I remember my heart-themed notes from the football match, but Jeff doesn’t look at me.

‘Hey, David,’ he says, his foot tapping restlessly. ‘Did you see the match on Saturday?’

David shakes his head and Phil answers. ‘We were at Comic-Con.’

Jeff sits bolt upright. ‘I forgot!’ His face is suddenly wide awake, like he’s been kissed by Princess Charming. ‘How was it? I went last year. Got Dave Gibbons’s autograph.’

‘Dave Gibbons?’ Phil’s in awe. ‘No way.’

‘Uh-huh.’

Sam’s head snaps round. ‘Commy-what?’

‘Comic Book Convention,’ Jeff explains.

My ears prick up. Treacle’s always got an X-Men comic in her bag. Maybe she should start carrying it in the open. If Jeff’s into comics, a glimpse of Wolverine in the lunch hall might act like catnip. In my head he’s already jumping dining tables to sit beside Treacle. Their eyes meet as he points a trembling finger at Magneto leering from the cover. ‘You like X-Men?’ he whispers.

Treacle slides her 1984 original
Spiderman and the Mighty Thor
out of her bag and wafts it seductively under Jeff’s nose. Hypnotised, he leans in for a kiss . . .

‘Hello, everyone,’ Barbara calls out breathlessly as she enters the room, fishing for something in her bag. She takes a seat beside Cindy and smiles broadly as she hooks out a pen.

Next Will swaggers in and parks himself on top of Sam’s desk, slouching against the monitor.

‘So?’ He eyes Cindy. ‘Was my piece OK?’

‘You mean your article?’ Cindy starts handing out papers to everyone. ‘Why don’t we all decide?’

‘So we’re a democracy now?’ Will’s eyes are as sharp as switchblades. I’m suddenly relieved it’s Jessica’s name at the top of the horoscopes, not mine.

The room grows quiet as we start reading this week’s edition. The only sound is Cindy’s pen scratching notes in the margin. My gaze drifts over the first article.

Twenty Ways to Get the Most From Your School Locker
.

This is Barbara’s feature article! My brain flip-flops like a stunned fish.

Twenty Ways to Get the Most From Your School Locker?

She calls this
lifestyle
? Death-by-boredom-style more like!

Frustration chokes me. Why am I inventing horoscopes under someone else’s name while Barbara gets a byline for this?

Will’s smirking. ‘Nice piece, Barbara. I think you’ve changed my life.’ He holds up his paper and reads aloud. ‘A neat locker is a sweet locker.’

Barbara beams. ‘Thanks, Will.’

Jeff looks up. ‘Keeping muddy kit at the bottom is actually a good idea,’ he says kindly.

‘Genius,’ Will mutters.

Cindy shushes him and we all continue to read, marking up any typos as we go. When we’ve finished, Cindy starts collecting the papers in. But when she gets to Will, he waves his in front of her. ‘Have you
actually
read any of this, Cindy?’

I glue my gaze to my lap, but I can feel Cindy’s rage sparking across the room.

‘Of course I have, Will,’ she snarls. ‘I’ve read everything and I think it’s great.’

‘Great? This Jessica Jupiter person is a total airhead.’ I flinch as Will flicks past my column and runs through the rest of the pages. ‘And as for the rest of it. “Lip gloss – or lip matte – you decide.”
Girls’
football?’ He pauses as though he can’t believe what he’s reading. ‘I thought we were publishing a student webzine not a Girl Guide manual.’ He slings his papers at Cindy. ‘What about addressing real issues?’

Cindy glares at him. ‘And your piece on student loans is a
real
issue?’

‘Of course it is!’

Cindy slams the papers on her desk and puts her hands on her hips. She clearly means business. ‘Have you studied our demographic? This is a
secondary
school not higher education.’

Jeff interrupts. ‘It’s only the first issue. I’m sure it’ll improve.’

Will and Cindy turn their headlight glares on him.

‘You don’t like it either?’ Cindy snaps.

Will growls. ‘You were
expecting
it to be bad?’

Jeff holds up his hands like he’s deflecting goals. ‘Whoa!’

Cindy takes a breath. ‘Well, perhaps Mr Harris’s idea isn’t such a bad one after all.’

Will narrows his eyes. ‘What idea?’

‘He wants us to invite our readers to submit their own articles for the next issue to run alongside ours.’ She looks like she’s licked a frog.

Will rolls his eyes. ‘Great,’ he growls. ‘Let the masses speak. They’ve always got so
much
to say.’ His words drip with sarcasm.

I press my lips together, squashing a smile. It looks like Will and Cindy have something in common after all. They both think their readers are pond life.

Cindy’s eyes brighten unconvincingly. ‘What do you all think?’

I think that maybe if more people are going to be contributing to the webzine then Cindy might consider my piece about the school shed.

Sam swings his feet on to his desk. ‘We might get some interesting stuff.’

‘Dream on,’ Will mutters.

But David’s nodding. ‘It’s worth a try.’

Phil’s typing on his keyboard. ‘Collaboration built the internet,’ he says, not looking up from his screen.

The school shed idea is now disco-dancing in my head. I could have a chance to get it published after all.

Cindy bites her bottom lip. ‘If people wanted to
collaborate
, they should have come to the first meeting and joined up.’ She flicks back her hair. ‘But Mr Harris thinks it’s a good idea, so I’ll be sending out an appeal for articles with the first issue.’

I clear my throat. ‘Cindy, I have an idea too. What about an article about the demolition of the bike shed and how it will affect the students who use it for – you know –
other
activities?’ I stop there, praying that my cheeks don’t start to burn.

Barbara giggles and Will sighs. Sam looks at me and grins.

Cindy holds up a hand. ‘The ideas are meant to come from the readers, not us.’ She turns and starts thrusting papers into her bag. ‘We might as well close the meeting. Let’s meet again on Thursday to start work on the next issue.’

She marches out of the room, Barbara chasing after, her schoolbag flapping behind.

Will heaves himself to his feet and leaves. Sam, Phil and David are quick to follow. Cindy and Will’s argument seems to have left everyone a little shell-shocked. I bend down to fetch my bag from under the desk.

‘I like your idea.’ Jeff’s voice makes me jump. He’s in front of my desk, shifting his feet like the floor’s too hot.

‘Thanks.’ I grab my bag and stand up, ready to leave. It’s not Jeff I need to sell my idea to, it’s the Ice Queen.

‘Sorry.’ Jeff’s still staring at me.

‘What for?’

‘For being uncool about your . . .’ His gaze darts to his feet. ‘. . . drawings.’

The flowers and hearts! In all the tension of the meeting I’d completely forgotten. ‘No!
I’m
sorry!’ I blurt. ‘I should’ve written down the goals and stuff.’

‘Doesn’t matter.’ Jeff looks at me. ‘I’d logged the stats in my head anyway.’

‘Really?’ I’m impressed.

‘Anyway, I’m sorry I snapped at you. I was just caught up in the game,’ Jeff continues.

I shrug. ‘It’s OK.’

He’s shifting his feet again. ‘That bike shed article is a good idea,’ he tells me again. And then he’s gone. Out of the door like a rabbit running for a gap in the fence.

OMG. I realise in a flash.

He’s
shy
! He only really knows how to talk about sport. I’m scribbling mental notes to Treacle. This is great news. No wonder he’s not asked her out yet. This is going to be easy! Treacle talks sports like Savannah talks fashion. She and Jeff are made for each other. I can’t wait to tell her.

I hurry out of school and cross the playground. The bike shed looks shadowy in the late afternoon light. I stare at the tarmac, irritated as I think of Cindy batting my idea away. My Save Our Shed piece would have blown Barbara’s locker drivel out of the water. The shed is something the students
really
care about. I hunch my shoulders against the cold. Then I hear voices.

Someone’s behind the shed.

Isn’t it a bit late for a romantic rendezvous? The yard’s deserted and the cleaners are in full swing inside, their hoovers echoing along the halls. Curious, I creep towards the back of the shed. The voices sound familiar. I peep round the corner, squinting through the shadows.

Josh?

I recognise his jacket. And his dark curls. He’s in a passionate clinch.

Savannah?
I peer harder.

That’s not Savannah! My heart lurches.

It’s Chelsea.

Josh is snogging Chelsea!

‘We have to tell her,’ Treacle insists as we head up the school steps.

It’s Wednesday and I still haven’t told Savannah about Josh. The sun’s out, pretending nothing’s wrong, but there’s a sharp nip in the cold morning air.

‘Can’t we just let her find out by herself?’ I push through the front doors. ‘She’s so happy.’

‘And let Josh get away with two-timing?’

I know she’s right, but I really don’t want to be the one to capsize Savannah’s love boat.

‘Savannah’s going to get hurt whatever,’ Treacle points out. ‘If he’s already cheating on her then it’s only going to get worse.’