that I know for a fact Max already has.’
8
Rachel
Two days passed. I forgot about the text. I mean, I forgot about what it said. I didn’t forget that Dad had some kind of secret. I tried not to think about that. But it preyed on my mind. In fact, I was thinking about it when I arrived at school, when I would normally have been watching out for Jemima.
I was heading for the toilets, busting for a pee. I didn’t see Jemima until I was almost at the door. She was with a couple of friends, giggling away across the corridor near the art room.
I hesitated for a second. Maybe she hadn’t seen me. Anyway, it was too late to find another loo. I really needed to go. I pushed the toilet door open and hitched up my skirt as I scurried across to the cubicle. I was in and out really quickly, just splashing a bit of water over my hands afterwards. I reached the door. Pulled it open. And there she was. Jemima. Her pointy little face all sneering and cold. Amy and Phoebe stood on either side of her. They’re like copies of Jemima, except Phoebe’s not nearly as pretty and Amy’s got big braces on her teeth. But all of them are slim, with the same highlighted blonde hair.
Jemima nodded at Phoebe. ‘Go on.’
Phoebe shoved me in the chest.
I stumbled back into the toilets.
‘What were you doing in here?’ Jemima sneered. ‘Trying to make yourself look pretty or something?’
Amy giggled.
I shook my head. I wanted to say something. To shout at them. But it was like there was a barrier between me and the rest of the world, stopping me from speaking.
‘Didn’t work, did it, Phoebs?’ Jemima went on. ‘She looks as ugly as ever, doesn’t she?’
Phoebe nodded.
I’m not ugly. I’m not . But the words didn’t sound true, even inside my own head. I was ugly. Just as surely as Rebecca had been beautiful and Dad had a secret phone.
‘So are you a virgin?’
What? I stared at Jemima. Why was she asking me that? She must know I was. Tears pricked at my eyes.
‘Well?’ Jemima prodded my shoulder.
‘Maybe she doesn’t know what the word means?’ Amy giggled.
‘I do.’ The words ripped out of me – far too forcefully.
I caught the gleam in Jemima’s eye. She knew she was getting to me. She knew I was nearly crying. She was loving every second of it.
‘So,’ she said slowly. ‘Are you or aren’t you? Just say, then you can go.’
I clung to this. If I gave her an answer I could get away. But what was the right answer? If I said yes, I was a virgin, she would taunt me about being inexperienced. If I said no, I wasn’t , she’d call me a slut and tell everyone I’d do it with any boy who wanted.
‘I don’t know,’ I stammered.
No, Rachel. Stupid, stupid .
Jemima grinned.
‘I mean . . .’
Too late. All three of them were laughing.
‘She doesn’t know.’ That was Phoebe.
‘Maybe she was drunk,’Amy giggled.
Jemima’s eyes glinted. ‘Maybe she couldn’t tell it was happening.’
The others laughed even harder at this.
And now the tears really were coming. I bit down hard on my lip to hold them back, but it was no use. I pushed past Jemima and reached for the door knob, all blurry in front of me.
‘Hey, freak show.’ Jemima’s voice was so commanding I stopped, my fingers outstretched and shaking. ‘Maybe you’ll work it out at the school disco . . .’
More snorts and sniggers from the other girls.
I grabbed the door knob.
‘Don’t forget you’re my bitch,’ Jemima sneered.
What’s wrong with the ones you’ve got? I so wanted to say it. But I didn’t have the courage. And I didn’t trust my voice to speak. So I just turned the door handle and fled down the corridor.
9
Theo
Max said it would take thirty-six hours to find out the information on Richard Smith’s daughter and that any communication between us should make no reference to either Richard Smith himself or my dad. Max is like that sometimes. Paranoid. Still, maybe hackers have to be.
The thirty-six
8
Rachel
Two days passed. I forgot about the text. I mean, I forgot about what it said. I didn’t forget that Dad had some kind of secret. I tried not to think about that. But it preyed on my mind. In fact, I was thinking about it when I arrived at school, when I would normally have been watching out for Jemima.
I was heading for the toilets, busting for a pee. I didn’t see Jemima until I was almost at the door. She was with a couple of friends, giggling away across the corridor near the art room.
I hesitated for a second. Maybe she hadn’t seen me. Anyway, it was too late to find another loo. I really needed to go. I pushed the toilet door open and hitched up my skirt as I scurried across to the cubicle. I was in and out really quickly, just splashing a bit of water over my hands afterwards. I reached the door. Pulled it open. And there she was. Jemima. Her pointy little face all sneering and cold. Amy and Phoebe stood on either side of her. They’re like copies of Jemima, except Phoebe’s not nearly as pretty and Amy’s got big braces on her teeth. But all of them are slim, with the same highlighted blonde hair.
Jemima nodded at Phoebe. ‘Go on.’
Phoebe shoved me in the chest.
I stumbled back into the toilets.
‘What were you doing in here?’ Jemima sneered. ‘Trying to make yourself look pretty or something?’
Amy giggled.
I shook my head. I wanted to say something. To shout at them. But it was like there was a barrier between me and the rest of the world, stopping me from speaking.
‘Didn’t work, did it, Phoebs?’ Jemima went on. ‘She looks as ugly as ever, doesn’t she?’
Phoebe nodded.
I’m not ugly. I’m not . But the words didn’t sound true, even inside my own head. I was ugly. Just as surely as Rebecca had been beautiful and Dad had a secret phone.
‘So are you a virgin?’
What? I stared at Jemima. Why was she asking me that? She must know I was. Tears pricked at my eyes.
‘Well?’ Jemima prodded my shoulder.
‘Maybe she doesn’t know what the word means?’ Amy giggled.
‘I do.’ The words ripped out of me – far too forcefully.
I caught the gleam in Jemima’s eye. She knew she was getting to me. She knew I was nearly crying. She was loving every second of it.
‘So,’ she said slowly. ‘Are you or aren’t you? Just say, then you can go.’
I clung to this. If I gave her an answer I could get away. But what was the right answer? If I said yes, I was a virgin, she would taunt me about being inexperienced. If I said no, I wasn’t , she’d call me a slut and tell everyone I’d do it with any boy who wanted.
‘I don’t know,’ I stammered.
No, Rachel. Stupid, stupid .
Jemima grinned.
‘I mean . . .’
Too late. All three of them were laughing.
‘She doesn’t know.’ That was Phoebe.
‘Maybe she was drunk,’Amy giggled.
Jemima’s eyes glinted. ‘Maybe she couldn’t tell it was happening.’
The others laughed even harder at this.
And now the tears really were coming. I bit down hard on my lip to hold them back, but it was no use. I pushed past Jemima and reached for the door knob, all blurry in front of me.
‘Hey, freak show.’ Jemima’s voice was so commanding I stopped, my fingers outstretched and shaking. ‘Maybe you’ll work it out at the school disco . . .’
More snorts and sniggers from the other girls.
I grabbed the door knob.
‘Don’t forget you’re my bitch,’ Jemima sneered.
What’s wrong with the ones you’ve got? I so wanted to say it. But I didn’t have the courage. And I didn’t trust my voice to speak. So I just turned the door handle and fled down the corridor.
9
Theo
Max said it would take thirty-six hours to find out the information on Richard Smith’s daughter and that any communication between us should make no reference to either Richard Smith himself or my dad. Max is like that sometimes. Paranoid. Still, maybe hackers have to be.
The thirty-six
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