The Life and Times of Gracie Faltrain Read Online Free PDF Page B

my face that afternoon. She didn’t ask me if I did it. She didn’t have to.
    Annabelle kept crying that day until the teacher went back inside. And then she smiled. A wide smile of triumph.
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ANNABELLE
    Why don’t I like Gracie Faltrain? She pushed me over once in kindergarten, and then she lied about it. She hasn’t changed at all. I looked at her in the toilets today and she said she was going to punch me. In the face . I bet she didn’t tell you that , did she?
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GRACIE
    Everyone else whispers today in English when Mrs Wilson says we can work in pairs. I rearrange my books on the table. It doesn’t matter that there’s someone sitting in the chair next to me. Without Jane, it’s empty. I’ve emailed her every day since she left; I keep my phone with me so I can text her but it’s not the same.
    Alyce Fuller asks me to be her partner. Her question is shaped like a hesitant hand held out for shaking. I look at her face and slightly hunched shoulders. I see Annabelle in the back corner, taking it all in. I think about replacing Jane with Alyce . ‘I’m working with someone else,’ I say. She blushes from her neck to her hairline, a fire spreading in a dry field.
    Alyce is nice. It isn’t that. Without Jane, though, I’m on the market. If I start to hang out with the wrong people then that’s who I’ll be stuck with for the rest of my time here at school. That’s almost three whole years of hanging out with Alyce. I’m not ready to be auctioned off to the first bidder, especially when that bidder hangs out with the school librarian.
    By the time I’ve said no to Alyce, though, everyone is already paired off. I have to work on my own. So does she. Her eyes are red and she keeps biting her lip. What sort of a person cries because she has to work alone?
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ALYCE
    â€˜Can I go to the toilet, Mrs Wilson?’ I ask and look down at my jumper.
    â€˜Can’t you hold on for five minutes? The bell is about to go.’
    â€˜I don’t think I can, Mrs Wilson.’ I know what she’s thinking: should I send someone with her? Is she all right? I know this is why she takes her time. Her hands snake across her desk, searching for the hall pass.
    Let me go, let me go, I think, before I cry and everyone sees me.
    â€˜What’s the date today?’ she asks, filling out each line carefully.
    Hurry, or everyone will see my face shaking, my lips like rubber. Hurry. Everyone will think that they know why. That’s what I’ll hate the most. They’ll talk about me when I leave and Mrs Wilson will say, ‘Shoosh, get back to work,’ worried that I’ll hear. She’ll pull Gracie aside and talk to her and then I’ll have to stand there while she’s made to say sorry.
    I cry in the toilets, looking at the one line of graffiti that can’t be scrubbed away. Someone has made it permanent, scratched it deep into the wood above the toilet roll: This place is crap .
    It wasn’t just what Gracie said that upset me. It was that I stood there while she said it.
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GRACIE
    When the day starts as badly as mine did, you have to give yourself a little reward. At recess I head straight to the tuckshop. I’ve got a craving for a jam doughnut with pink icing. Nothing, not even a queue a mile long, is going to distract me from my goal. Not even Annabelle Orion, lining up behind me, will keep me from my doughnut.
    â€˜Hi, Gracie, how’s life without Jane?’
    â€˜Fine, Annabelle.’ I keep my response short. It’s better not to engage with the enemy.
    â€˜I think you and Alyce will make great study partners.’
    I’m quiet. Ignore the enemy and they’ll go away. Keep your mind focused on the doughnut.
    â€˜It’s good you’ve got a friend. She’ll be handy to have around at exam time.’
    And this is where I make my first mistake: ‘We are not good friends,