list and there were only eighteen of us in the swimming lesson yesterday!â
The others nodded their heads in agreement, but it was obvious they were only trying to cheer me up, because how could One credit too many be aimed at anyone else but me?
âYou didnât reply, did you, Georgie?â asked Mia, suddenly.
Georgie shook her head. âNo, but maybe next time theyâre online I ought to tell them that Grace thinks theyâre pathetic and so do I. Then perhaps they wonât bother us any more.â
âNo, donât!â I quickly said. âThat might make them do something worse. Iâd rather just try and ignore it.â
Jess looked thoughtful. âPerhaps if it happens again, Georgie, you ought to type something like, Youâre wasting your time writing stuff about Grace because Iâm purposely not telling her any of it.â
âNo,â I protested again, âbecause theyâll find other ways ofâ¦getting at me.â
âItâs actually bullying,â said Jess. âI think you should report it, Grace.â
âBut what would I say? I donât know who it is and it doesnât sound all that terrible calling yourself One credit too many and saying, Donât you think? And even if a teacher found out who said it, which is impossible, that person could pretend they were talking about something else entirely.â
Mia seemed to agree with Jess. âWhat about that first message, though? That was horrible.â
I was feeling more and more uncomfortable because it was too hard to explain why I didnât want any teachers involved. Yes, I was scared that whoever had it in for me would be angry if she found out Iâd told a teacher. But there was another reason. The term before, my really precious stopwatch had been stolen, and Ms. Carmichael, the headmistress, had had to make an announcement about it in assembly and eventually Iâd got it back. But I donât want the teachers to think Iâm always in the middle of a drama. They might get fed up with me.
âLook, Iâm fine, honestly,â I said, smiling brightly even though it was the last thing I felt like doing. âNaomiâs right. Iâve just got to act like nothingâs bothering me, then theyâll leave me alone.â
âAll the same, Iâm coming swimming with you,â said Jess. âThereâs loads of time for me to take a few pictures as well afterwards.â
I was determined to stand on my own two feet, though, and I couldnât let poor Jess spend her Saturday afternoon swimming when sheâd so much rather be out with her beloved camera. âJess, Iâll be fine. I promise.â
There was no one in the changing room but there were loads of bags and clothes and shoes lying around the place, which meant that the pool was going to be pretty crowded. I didnât recognize any of the shoes. Some were boots, but most were trainers of all different colours. What did Felissia wear on her feet? I had no idea. Stop thinking about it, Grace , I told myself sharply. Anyway, there was always at least one lifeguard at the pool so who could hurt me?
Hurt me? I really had to get rid of these ridiculous ideas. All that had happened was a few nasty words written on a computer. No one wanted to hurt me. They didnât even dare reveal who they were. They were hiding behind the computer screen. Why should I worry about such weak people?
Instead of wrapping the towel around my shoulders I hung it round my neck, so I wouldnât be as tempted to hug it to me like a kind of security blanket. Then I made myself go through to the pool. The warm air met me, which felt comforting, and I was glad to hear so much noise too. That meant everyone was having fun and no one would pay any attention to me. I put the towel on one of the rails at the side, feeling a bit lost without it, and ran my eyes as casually as I could over the pool. The only