Becky's Terrible Term Read online

  Becky’s hollow-stomach feeling came back with a vengeance as Annabel chirped, “See you later!” and bounced over to Saima, grinning. “Shall we start a group, then?” she suggested.

  “OK,” agreed Saima, happily. “We can’t have your sisters, though, can we?” She smiled at Becky, who was still sitting frozen to her chair. “Shall we ask Fiona? And you know Moira from down my road, don’t you? What about her?”

  “I don’t know,” replied Annabel thoughtfully. “I’ve got a horrible feeling that Miss Fraser wants girls and boys mixed, or she’ll make us change. It might be better to start off with boys in our group – at least we won’t get split up and put with people we don’t know.”

  “Good idea. Who is there we know? Matthew’s OK.” They knew Matthew from St Anne’s; he was very funny. “How about we ask him and Jordan?” Saima jerked her thumb at the boys.

  Annabel nodded, and Becky watched as Saima and her sister wandered over in a slightly embarrassed way. Luckily Matthew spotted them.

  “Hey, you two! Do you want to be a four with me and Jordan? I thought you’d be with your sisters though, Annabel?”

  “Not allowed. Yeah, OK. We don’t mind being in a group with you, do we, Saima?” answered Annabel, grinning meaningfully.

  Becky’s shoulders sagged. She’d tensed herself up without noticing, hoping that somehow Annabel wouldn’t be able to find a group she wanted to be with. Then, according to Becky’s imaginary plan, Annabel would beg Miss Fraser to change her mind and let them be together after all. It was what Becky desperately wanted to do herself, but she’d never dare. She’d been relying on Annabel to do it for her, but looking at her bubbly, outgoing sister laughing and chatting with Saima and the boys, she knew how stupidly she’d been deceiving herself.

  She got up – she couldn’t stay sitting there like an idiot, much as she’d like to – and looked round for Katie, a tiny thread of hope still running through her. Katie was with Fiona, and Moira, the girl Saima had suggested to Annabel. The other person in their group – who was it? Then Becky vaguely recalled her from their PE lesson – Megan, who Katie had said was good at football. So Katie was sorted as well – it was only Becky who was on her own. Becky chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. But Katie’s group was all girls! Becky was pretty sure Annabel had been right about Miss Fraser wanting mixed groups, so maybe Katie’s group would get split up and – surely somehow they’d end up together? Or even if it was only Fiona she was with, at least she knew her. Becky was about to nip over and explain to Katie that she was going to have to change things round somehow, when Miss Fraser interrupted.

  “Are we all sorted now? Anyone not in a group?”

  “We’ve only got three, Miss Fraser,” called a pretty, dark-haired girl with huge green eyes.

  “Oh. Has one group got five?” asked Miss Fraser, looking round.

  “No, sorry, Miss Fraser,” stammered Becky. “It’s me – I’ll. . . I’ll join this group.”

  Everyone was looking at her! Oh, why hadn’t she got up and done something earlier, made an effort to ask Fiona if she’d be in a group with her? Why did she just have to sit there and let everything go wrong? She couldn’t look at Katie and Annabel. She knew Katie would be cross with her for being a baby, and Annabel just wouldn’t understand how Becky could manage to be so useless. She had loads of friends – surely Becky could have managed one! Although Becky was mostly feeling really embarrassed about her own complete wimpishness, there was also a niggling hurt lurking in the back of her mind, that Annabel and Katie had just disappeared off without even thinking to ask if she’d be OK.

  Katie and Annabel exchanged shocked glances across the room. Becky had been doing a panicky kind of hover at the edge of the room, and neither of them had realized that she was on her own. Now they felt guilty – Katie especially, because she was so used to looking after Bel and Becky. She felt a bit cross, though, too. Why hadn’t Becky made more of an effort? She couldn’t watch out for her sisters all the time!

  The girl with the long strawberry-blonde hair – they’d worked out that she was called Amy by now, and her two followers were Emily and Cara – watched all this with slightly narrowed eyes. So the practically perfect triplets were being split up, were they? She gazed thoughtfully at Becky, noting her miserable look, and smirked. Definitely information worth having. She turned back to her own group (their fourth person was a boy called David who’d moved into the area that summer and knew nobody – Miss Fraser had put him in their group, and they were intending to ignore him as much as possible) and started planning to herself.

  Becky moved over to the green-eyed girl and her friends, looking at the floor, and blushing bright scarlet. Everyone in the class thought she was an idiot, now.

  “Hello. Which triplet are you? I’m Fran, by the way.” At least the girl with the green eyes seemed friendly, although the two boys were smirking a bit. “This is Jack and Robin. We know each other from our old school.”

  “Becky,” Becky gasped out. “Sorry – Miss Fraser split me and my sisters up. I didn’t really know anyone else.” Then she blushed an even darker red and closed her mouth, fully intending not to say anything else for the rest of the afternoon, if possible. If she shut up, perhaps they might forget she was there. . .

  “Now, this is no good,” said Miss Fraser, examining the class. “We can’t have you girls all together – and, yes, look, a group of just boys.”

  Annabel had been right about the mixed groups. Unfortunately, though, she and Becky hadn’t realized the worst of it. Miss Fraser did split Katie’s group up – she and Megan were with two of the boys. The real problem was, Katie was now condemned to doing a history project with the incredibly annoying boy from Monday morning’s football game. He turned out to be called Max.

  Chapter Seven

  Becky got through the rest of the lesson by withdrawing into a shell like a tortoise. She didn’t say anything, except once – “Mm” when Fran asked if she was OK. As she was staring at the table top, she didn’t see the boys exchange long-suffering looks. Just their luck to be stuck in a group with the mad triplet. The only thing that made Becky feel slightly better was that at least she didn’t seem to be in a group with anyone she knew was really horrible (although she might have felt differently if she’d seen Jack and Robin’s look). Poor Katie! Becky felt quite seriously that she would actually have died if she’d had to work with that awful boy, Max. The thing was, though, she definitely felt ever so sorry for Katie, but a teensy part of her couldn’t help thinking that it served her sister right. A bit.

  On the way home from school the triplets carefully ignored the subject of Becky’s project group. Becky definitely didn’t want to talk about it, and Katie and Bel didn’t want to upset her by asking her if she was OK with it – what would they do if she wasn’t? It felt strange. None of them were used to having something they couldn’t talk about. Instead they concentrated on sympathizing with Katie for her terrible luck.

  The weird feeling between the three of them made the next day at school seem really odd. Becky was sure she only survived by repeating to herself over and over again that it was Thursday and there was only one more day to go. Miss Fraser’s class was due to have a lesson working on their history projects the next morning – only Annabel thought she might actually enjoy it.

  Katie got up on Friday without having to be chivvied by Mum, and got dressed feeling almost vicious. She brushed her hair without considering the knots, and winced. Then she plaited it back particularly tightly, thinking that if that boy dared say anything she’d . . . well, something, anyway. Mum noticed that breakfast was rather silent, but nothing was obviously wrong – the triplets just seemed to be thoughtful. Although, was she imagining it, or was Becky even quieter than normal?

  “Becky, darling, eat that toast – it’ll get cold,” she pointed out.

  Becky looked at the limp slice she’d been igno
ring, and sighed. She wasn’t hungry, but she didn’t feel like explaining why to Mum. This was when she could really do with a dog. Cats were no good in this situation. She didn’t think that even Orlando the ever-starving would get rid of a piece of soggy toast for her. Possibly if she put some Marmite on it? Thoughtfully, still pondering how to get a cat to dispose of her breakfast, she took a bite. She was halfway down the slice before she realized what she was doing, and then she decided she might as well finish it.

  There was another football game going on in the playground that morning, and Katie, her sisters and Megan watched critically. Katie and Megan had their arms folded, and carefully arranged pitying looks on their faces as they watched Max’s game.

  “You’d better be careful, Katie,” said Becky, worriedly. “You’ve got to work with him, and his friend – what’s he called?”

  “Ben. And I don’t mind him so much – look, at least he doesn’t think he’s David Beckham.” Katie nodded towards the “pitch”, where Ben was capably passing the ball, without trying to do anything too fancy.

  When it came to the history lesson, everyone got into their groups with varying degrees of enthusiasm. They were in yet another new classroom – half the class turned up late and looking sheepish, having gone to completely the wrong side of the building and interrupted Year Nine Geography. Looking round at the seven groups, Annabel reckoned that she and Saima had done rather well.

  “Do you have any idea what we’re supposed to be doing for this project?” Matthew muttered to them.

  “Nope,” Annabel hissed back cheerfully. “Haven’t a clue.” Miss Fraser had read them something out of the textbook about research in the last lesson after they’d sorted their groups, but the triplets had still been so focused on being split up that they hadn’t really paid much attention. None of the others seemed to have either. . .

  “It’s history,” Jordan chipped in brightly.

  Matthew gave him a look. “Yeah, thanks Jordan. Helpful!”

  “Well, we never know with you, Matt. I wouldn’t be all that surprised if you turned in a maths project.”

  Miss Fraser had lots of books about local history, and photocopies of things like the school’s record books, old photographs, maps – loads of stuff. That afternoon they were just going to be “sifting through the evidence” as she put it, but eventually they would have to produce a piece of work based on what they’d found out.

  The lesson was quite relaxed and cheerful –everyone was wandering around, borrowing books from different tables, giggling at the solemn, old-fashioned-looking children in the old school photos. Miss Fraser seemed to have a laid-back Friday feeling about her, too.

  Katie’s table, however, was noticeably uncheerful. She and Megan were looking snootily down their noses at Max, and he was glaring back, while poor Ben tried very hard to interest them all in the stuff he’d found to look at for their project. “Look! It says here our school’s over a hundred years old!”

  “Typical,” snapped Max. “We’re doing all the work while you girls sit around doing nothing.”

  Even Ben looked a bit gobsmacked by this –Max hadn’t done anything!

  Katie positively bristled. “Oh, is that right? Well, me and Megan are just going to have to redo all your work anyway, ’cause it’ll be useless!”

  Max blustered. “Yeah, well, what about you and your stupid sisters! That one” – he nodded to Becky, sitting with Fran’s group with her elbows tucked into her sides as if she was trying to make herself so small that no one would notice her – “she’s so brainless, she can’t even kick a ball!”

  Becky heard. Katie could tell that she had, because, impossibly, she seemed to shrink even more. Katie, by contrast, swelled up with fury. But she smiled sweetly at Max. He’d given her the perfect opening for one of the insults she’d considered while brushing her hair that morning. “Oh,” she cooed, dangerously, “and you actually think you can?”

  It was unfortunate that Ben giggled. He tried not to, but Max looked so funny, scowling, and opening and shutting his mouth like a goldfish while he tried to think of an answer. That was all Max needed to lose his temper completely. He stood up, and shoved Ben’s pile of books at Katie, who dodged so they went on the floor. Then he turned round to storm away from the table – only he stormed right into Miss Fraser instead. She had seen the books hit the floor and she was not happy. Max spent morning break tidying the stationery cupboard. It wasn’t even very untidy, but it seemed to be all Miss Fraser could think of. So he actually spent the time sulking, and trying desperately to think of a way to get Katie Ryan into really big trouble.

  That afternoon the triplets walked home feeling a bit confused. It was the end of the week, and they had a whole two days of doing nothing (well, apart from homework, but they still hadn’t got that much of it yet) to look forward to. Somehow, they weren’t feeling as good about it as they should have done. Things were definitely not right. Katie and Annabel still didn’t want to bring up the difficult subject of Wednesday’s history lesson in case Becky got upset. It meant they were having to skate round things carefully. Becky was feeling that a weekend wasn’t long enough to recover from school, and wishing that her sisters weren’t so good at making friends.

  “So, what do you think of Manor Hill after a week, then?” Katie asked.

  Annabel shrugged. “It’s OK. I mean, it’s school, isn’t it? It could be worse. I quite like Miss Fraser, and the English teacher, I’ve forgotten her name. Mr Hatton’s a bit scary.”

  Katie nodded. Their French teacher did seem very strict, and a lot of mention had been made of tests. “I know what you mean.”

  Becky listened in amazement as they chatted about the teachers, and what had happened during the week. They were so relaxed, swapping gossip about the head teacher that someone’s older brother had passed on. It wasn’t as though she’d hated school. The work hadn’t been that hard, and although the staff seemed fairly strict, none of them had been particularly nasty. But Becky just had a miserable feeling that she didn’t fit at Manor Hill, that she’d never be able to know what was going on like Katie and Annabel did. She’d spent most of the week sticking to her sisters as much as she possibly could, but they were both sociable, chatty things who had lots of people to talk to, Annabel especially, and Becky was really feeling like a hanger-on. She was also constantly worried that she was about to do something wrong, and it left her with a kind of heart-in-the-mouth feeling.

  That evening, after tea, Becky went out to the garden shed to talk to the guinea pigs. They were very good listeners, in a furry, silent sort of way, and they didn’t think she was stupid.

  She sat on the floor in the corner of the shed stroking Vanilla, her smooth-coated white guinea pig. Vanilla’s fur was very soft and strokable, and she was quite placid and happy to be held. Becky looked up at the others – Sam, Maisy and Animal – who were peering down anxiously from their hutches, worried that Vanilla was getting all the attention. “See? You don’t mind being with me, do you? You like it when I play with you, even. You don’t think I’m the silly one who’s not worth talking to. But how come I can talk to you, but I go all silent at school? I can’t even talk to Annabel and Katie at the moment.” Becky grinned miserably, and swapped Vanilla for Sam. “Maybe it’s ’cause you can’t talk back. Probably if you could you’d tell me to shut up and stop being an idiot like Katie would.”

  Meanwhile, Katie was in the sitting room half watching TV and half plotting how to get Max back, and Annabel was lying on her bed in the triplets’ room and painting her nails pink and purple because she couldn’t decide which she liked best. Neither of them were concentrating properly, though, and eventually Katie wandered upstairs, and leaned on the doorframe.

  “Bel. . .”

  “Mmm? Which of these do you like best?” Annabel waved a hand vaguely in her sister’s direction.

  “Definitely purple, the
pink’s too sicky. Bel, do you think Becky’s OK?”

  Annabel considered her nails. “Maybe you’re right.”

  “Bel. . .”

  “All right! No, I don’t think she’s OK. And I know we should try and help but I don’t know what to do about it!”

  Annabel sounded snappy, but Katie knew it wasn’t her that Bel was cross with. It was the whole situation with Becky, and not knowing what on earth they could do.

  Annabel scowled, and then dragged herself off her bed, flapping her fingers to dry the polish. “Oh, come on then. Let’s go and talk to her. She’s bound to be in the shed. What are we going to say?”

  “Just that she shouldn’t be so shy, I suppose,” said Katie doubtfully.

  “Hmmmm. I bet she’ll love that.”

  “Well, you haven’t got any better ideas, have you? Come on.”

  The two of them headed rather reluctantly for the garden, and went down the path to the smartly painted blue shed at the very end. They peered round the edge of the door. Becky was curled up in the corner, cuddling Sam, a black guinea pig with a lovely long white ruff that stuck out behind his ears. She looked up in surprise as her sisters came in. The shed was pretty much her place, and she’d wanted to be left alone.

  “What’s the matter?” Becky asked, feeling confused. Her sisters usually came in here only when she asked them. She felt strange, having them burst into her safe place, and suddenly it wasn’t so safe any more. “Do you want me for something?”

  Katie took a deep breath. “Becky – we’re worried about you. It’s horrible seeing you so upset. Can’t we, um, help somehow?”

  Becky’s face was completely blank as she answered Katie, in an artificially cheerful voice. “I’m fine. Don’t worry. Honestly.”

  Bel and Katie exchanged glances. “That’s not true,” Bel told her sister flatly. “You’ve been miserable since Wednesday, and today you’ve been looking as though someone’s poisoned Pixie. It’s because of the project thing, isn’t it? Why are you upset about it? Fran and the others seem really nice.”