My Best Friend's Brother

Chapter Three

Though I tried, avoiding the cheerleaders – mainly Carrie – was harder as the day went on.

I found out a few more things though – Carrie was in my year, aged 16, and so was Dylan, which was good. But he was 17, and the oldest in the year. Destiny, the brown-skinned girl who followed Carrie, was her best friend, and Tyler, the rude, but smart boy, was best friends with Dylan.

I kept my head down at lunch, sitting on my own at the back of the cafeteria, eating more than enough, just in case. I hadn’t seen Elle, other than shortly before math, and once again in English. But she didn’t talk to me; she gaped at me with her eyes wide, like she wanted to know something.

There was nothing to know.

I soon spotted Elle, walking slowly towards me, her face full with something that I couldn’t identify. She carried her tray close, like she was scared it would get knocked out of her hands. And her face . . .

She’d been slushied. It was obvious, now, as bits of iced strawberries fell from her nose, her ears, and her hair. I smiled sympathetically as she slipped in the chair opposite me, and handed her a few tissues.

“Thanks,” she said, quietly, and that was the last time I’d seen her at lunch. She ate quickly and excused herself after only a few minutes, and then the overheard speakers with the head teacher talking called me to her office. A chorus of ooos filled the cafeteria, and I rolled my eyes to myself as I pushed open the doors and crossed the courtyard towards her office.

“Good morning, Miss Watkinson,” she said to me as I opened her office door, smiling at me. “Take a seat.”

I did what she told me to and she started almost straight away, telling me about why she’d called me here, and what she expected of me. She told me about different clubs – French club, math club, hockey club, tennis club, and more – and how many I’d been expected to join.

I picked hockey, which annoyingly was after school today. At least I wouldn’t have to walk Elle home, unless she’d chosen this, which I highly doubted. I flicked through the pages of the extra-curricular booklet, scanning all the clubs until I found one I liked.

“What about this?” the head teacher, Mrs McKinley, or Mrs M as everybody called her, said, pointing to math tutoring group on Thursdays. My smile grew wider, and I nodded.

“Great,” I said honestly. Mrs M smiled, too, and when on to tell me what I needed to do – find a student to tutor, which wouldn’t be so hard, and she’d monitor everything that went on with the student. Grade rises, test scores, and then I was obliged to get an A if everything improves.

It was simple enough, and I left the office just in time for English, which wasn’t such a problem, if Tyler hadn’t have been sitting next to me. I’d completely forgotten about him, and by the looks of it, he’d forgotten about me.

“What are you?” he said, and quickly covered himself, blushing slightly. “I mean, who are you?”

“Riley,” I’d drawn out, staring at him wide-eyed. He blinked a few times before nodding slowly, turning back to the front.

Yeah, he didn’t know who I was.

It was only a matter of time before the class ended – after us being assigned an essay on Shakespeare – and I could leave for hockey practise. I had to borrow a kit, but it fit well and didn’t smell which was a bonus.

“Girls,” the coach called, looking at a bunch of girls walking towards the pitch, “you’re late!”

The coach was chubby and had spots, warts and blackheads covering her – oh God – hairy face. She wasn’t scary as such, but she wasn’t the nicest of people.