Undone(60)

My wistful thoughts are shunted out of my head when someone barges into me. Serves me right for standing here, I suppose. It’s not just any someone though. It’s someone I haven’t seen the whole summer. Someone I’ve barely even thought about. Louise. And she’s running – no, more like frolicking – through the yard, being chased by Max. He catches up with her because she lets him, and he wraps her up in his arms and kisses her like it’s not quarter to nine on a dreary September morning.

Louise looks like Louise Version 2.0. She’s been rebooted. She’s blonder than ever before, without even a hint of roots (unlike me. Should have known better than to pay Fernando a visit in the middle of the summer holidays instead of the end. Rookie error, I guess). Louise’s haunted look is well and truly gone. I’d describe her as glowing, if that wouldn’t imply she looks pregnant. She most definitely does not look pregnant. Her shirt is tighter than clingfilm.

The reappearance of Louise on the social radar could be a real problem. I can’t have her turning the others against me. I’ve come too far, worked too hard, to let that happen. Why couldn’t she have just stayed skulking in the shadows? This is NOT a good start to my day.

I shoulder my way through the crowds towards the bench. The Hallowed Picnic Bench of Popularity. They’re all there, with an added (and most unwelcome) dash of Louise, extra-conspicuous because she’s the only one wearing a uniform. Nina jumps up and gives me a hug. She only got back from America yesterday, so I suppose a hug is warranted. It makes me feel uncomfortable though. Sasha’s waiting for a hug from me too, which is definitely not warranted – I only saw her a couple of days ago. It’s not that I’ve got anything against the act of hugging or anything. I just have no desire to hug these people; their hugs are all bony and ill-fitting.

Lucas is sitting in his usual spot – smack bang in the middle of things. He pats the space next to him and I resist the urge to remind him that I am not, in fact, a dog. I take my allotted seat like a good little girl and nestle myself into the crook of his arm. I try to act like I belong. Like I’m not an imposter.

I can’t help checking Louise’s reaction, mostly because I want to know if she’s been brought up to speed about me and Lucas. She catches me looking, and to my utter surprise, smiles widely. ‘How was your summer, Jem? Looks like you had a good one.’

I smile back and try to make it as genuine as possible. ‘My summer was fine, thanks.’ I don’t say, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE? THIS IS MY TERRITORY NOW, BITCH. Because people might think that was a little weird.

Everyone’s acting like nothing’s amiss. Like Louise had never cast herself into the social shadows, and I’d always been glued to Lucas’s side. I guess that’s what it’s like for this lot. Nothing fazes them; they just go with the flow and never even bat an eyelid when things change. Whereas I can’t get over how quickly things can change. One day everyone seems to have forgotten about you, and somehow (HOW?!) the next day you’re back in and you’re laughing and joking and smiling and ruining things for normal, decent people like me.

Lucas squeezes my knee and whispers, ‘You look great.’ This is flattering and irritating in equal measure. Flattering because it’s nice to know that the ungodly early start this morning wasn’t for nothing; irritating because I don’t want him to think I did it for him. Because I didn’t. Not even a little bit.

I sit in the middle of the viper nest that is Team Popular and look out at the real world. The normal kids, doing normal things. No one’s paying us even a little bit of attention. Which is strange, because when I was on the outside I was always watching. Always.

What’s the point of being popular if nobody’s watching?

*

The first chance I get to talk to Sasha alone is at break time. I practically drag her to the science-block toilets.

‘What’s the rush? Did you drink too much coffee this morning or something?’

I give her a look that can only be described as exasperated, but she seems completely clueless. I have to spell it out for her. ‘Er … is there something you forgot to tell me, maybe? About Louise?’

Sasha shakes her head dismissively. ‘Oh. Yeah. She said she’s feeling a lot better about … stuff. The counselling really helped.’ She pouts at herself in the mirror.

‘So now she’s back and everything’s normal again?’

She stops pouting and turns to face me. ‘I guess so. She came over at the weekend and we talked. It was … nice. She really wants to get her life back on track, you know. Things haven’t been easy for her.’ I stare at her until she says, ‘I mean, I know things haven’t been easy for you too. Obviously.’

I get my make-up out, just for something to do. There’s no need; it’s looking pretty damn flawless if I do say so myself. ‘Um … Sasha? You do know that Louise isn’t exactly my biggest fan?’

‘Actually, she told me she was looking forward to hanging out with you. I think she’s really changed. She’s, like, softer or something.’ I’m taking this in, trying to make sense of it. But Sasha’s moved on and is staring at her reflection as if it holds the answer to the meaning of life. ‘Can I ask you something really important? And you have to be absolutely totally honest with me?’ I nod. ‘Do you think my cheeks look fat? I swear I look more like a hamster every day. God, that summer diet was such a waste of time. Why did I even bother? Why can’t I be one of those bitches who just eat what they want and never gain a milligram of weight … Sorry … you were going to say something?’