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Chapter One: I’m broke but I’m happy…Not
I can tell you from experience that having no money sucks after a while. But then, you probably thought that already didn't you? I know people say that money is the root of all evil and we'd all be much better of with out it but it's kind of...necessary. I mean, if you went into a shop to buy food and told the shopkeeper that you shouldn't have to pay because 'money is the root of all evil and we'd all be much better of with out it' would they serve you? No, didn't think so. It's really amazing how much of our thoughts money and everything related to it takes up. For example I was sitting in my maths class thinking how many packets of Rolo’s I could buy if I found a £50 note on the floor. I was thinking so hard that the snow white paper of myexercise book stayed, well, pure white until the last few moments of the lesson when I hastily scribbled down the date. Needless to say Mrs Duncan wasn't so impressed.
"Look Jennifer," she said tapping her foot on the floor, something she does whenever she's impatient or annoyed (so something she does quite a lot round me) "You need to apply yourself more. You will never get that B grade for your GCSE if you don't”. I honest to God hate that B. It isn't even real and all I hear about with the Dragon (my best friend Millie's affectionate pet name for Mrs. Duncan) is that bloody B. The minimum grade I need in maths is a C and I was doing that just fine.
When Mrs Duncan finally let me go I rushed out and took a deep breath in the hallway. The Dragon wears the most awful smelling perfume and she wears so much that you end up choking to death in her lessons.
"How bad was it?" Millie appeared as if from nowhere. Sometimes I really can't stand Millie. Not only is she in the top maths set (something I couldn't hope to achieve even if I spent all my free time with that bloody textbook), she is fairly attractive with her flawless skin (yes she's the same age as me and has never seen a tube of spot cream. Was she Joan of Arc in a past life or something?) and long shiny brown hair, she walks with a grace and poise that can only be achieved by having four lessons of ballet a week since she was three. I know that being jealous of her is a load of crap yadda yadda yadda, but anyone who has one of those seemingly perfect best friends will sympathise with me.
"As bad as the last time” I sighed once my airways were clear of the Dragon's foul perfume "Are you going into lunch?"
"Greasy turkey burgers, baked beans and anaemic broccoli," said Millie sorrowfully “Explain to me why I've gone into lunch with you every day for the past four years."
"Because," I stated as I had done a billion times before "You love me. I am your best ever friend and the thought of me sitting on my own in the hot dinner’s section of the cafeteria makes you want to vomit with both rage and sadness"
"Oh yeah"
Haven's Mill Secondary school isn't a private school but is still supposed to be one of the best in our area. I fail to see why and I only go because we live in the catchment and there was no other school. I think the reason it looks like it's one of the best schools is our awful school uniform. We have to wear a cravat and a navy blue blazer. Both boys and girls. That would be the number one reason I despise school. The second is the Dragon. The third is the social system, I am on the bottom, most people don't know I exist and to be perfectly honest I'm quite happy with it being that way. At least most of the time I'm invisible. The only time I'm seen is when Queen Bitch is bored and needs something to entertain her.
I have known Sasha Leland since my mother first dropped me off on my first day at Northbrook Primary school. I was terrified, I was seven years old and it was the first time I'd been away from my mum. The first thing they got us to do was get into groups and each group did a different activity. I was put in a group with four other kids. We were told to do and play with toys in the water seeing which one would sink or float in this big barrel. I was as graceful when I was seven as I am now. The floor was wet and I slipped slamming into a barrel with was nearly as big as me and filled nearly to the top with cold water. As I slammed into it the whole thing, along with all the water and toys inside tumbled over...and I'll give you three guesses who was standing the closest in her pink £30 school dress and faux leather shoes which shouldn't come into contact with water under any circumstances. That was nine years ago. NINE YEARS AGO. But Sasha never forgot it and never forgave me. This is probably why she takes great pride in having me at the bottom rung of the social ladder.
After we had got our greasy meal (minus the cold baked beans for me) we sat down at our usual table in a dark corner where we were joined by some fellow bottom-rungers. I had known Samuel Crawdy since nursery school as well. He had been one of the kids in my group and had found the whole thing hilarious. If I hadn’t had Sam with me I thing I would have drowned myself in that barrel all those years ago. The other two were Peter Desonaro who I'd met on the first day of secondary school. He'd been told to sit next to me in English where he promptly asked me what I thought of the movie version of Lord of the Rings. Before I could answer, one of the idiots who hung around smoking at lunch and were pretty tight with Sasha took Ms Farrow's copy of Romeo and Juliet and smacked Peter over the head with it. I responded by taking a copy of War and Peace off a nearby shelf and hitting the loser back. Peter and I have been friends ever since. The last one to sit down was Gemma. I don't think I can recall a time when Gemma hasn't had her nose in a science textbook and her wild hair in two stiff pigtails.
While we were sitting eating lunch the conversation turned to the Ocean Challenge trip. Every year a trip is organised where a group of students are taken to a country to spend three weeks on a ship learning all sorts of skills. You're given two years to raise the £3000 needed to go on the trip and your meant to do all sorts of fundraising to get the cash. Out of our small group only Sam, Millie and I had volunteered. My only problem was that the trip was this summer and I still had £700 to get together. I can't get the money from Mum; she works hard enough and needs all the money to pay our bills. I also refused to take money from my friends. I will not accept charity.
"How long do you think it'll take you to get the money?" Sam asked me between mouthfuls of turkey burger.
"Ages" I groaned "How much do you still need?"
"£200" explained Sam "But my cousin Phil is paying me £20 a month to walk his dogs twice a week so that'll knock off £120."
"What about the remaining eighty quid?" asked Peter as he sculpted his mashed up broccoli into a sort of tower thing. Peter has this thing about turning his meals into weird bits of art. We don't ask and he never tells.
"My Dad’s letting me wash his car for a fiver every month and I'll find a way to get the last forty"
"Fifty" corrected Gemma not even looking up from her history homework
"I hope you guys have fun without me” I said gloomily poking my turkey burger. Suddenly I didn't feel so hungry anymore. I walked past Sasha and her gang of hellish demons on my way to take up my plate. Someone from their table got up the same time as I walked past and the plate slipped from my hand and my half eaten turkey burger smeared with ketchup went all over their shirt.
You might get the impression that I bang into things a lot. You'd be right.
"Oh my God!" screeched Sasha "Watch where you're going you clumsy freak!" her gang of harpy like girls spewed out similar crap and Millie who had seen the whole thing had hurried over to pull me up off the floor.
"Thanks." I murmured brushing myself off. It was then that I got a fist full of baked beans shoved into my face.
"You bitch!" yelled Millie as I choked up baked beans from my nose and throat.
"She deserved it." whined Sasha as she rubbed more beans into my hair.
"Look, Sasha quit it” said a quiet voice that sounded slightly annoyed. I looked up and wiped baked bean sauce out of my eye and saw the person I'd gotten ketchup covered turkey burger over. It was a guy with dark brown hair and blue eyes. And a really nice mouth. I mean a really nice mouth. I was transfixed for a moment "Just be cool and grow up a bit" he said to Sasha in a deliciously patronising way. I was already to thank my hero for not being like the other morons in Sasha's inner posse when he opened his mouth again.
"For Christ’s sake she's just a little year seven. Can't be older than eleven years old." With that Sasha's entire posse burst into hysterics.
"You prick!" I yelled back at the guy as I elbowed him out of the way "Do I look like a bloody year seven to you!?!" I was fuming. Not just with him but with myself for overestimating a member of the 'elite' as Peter and Sam called them.
In the girl's toilets Gemma and Millie managed to comb most of the baked beans out of my hair but it still felt all sticky and hard. I pretended I wasn't upset over the whole incident and I think they believed me and if they didn't they kept their mouths shut. On our way to RS Millie stopped me for a moment.
"I’ve just had an amazing idea." she squealed looking pleased with herself
"What?" I asked slowly, a note of suspicion in my voice.
"There are tonnes of job adverts on the notice board in reception. Some of them pay a lot of money. You could get one of them and raise the money for Ocean Challenge in no time!" she grinned.
"The reason they're on the notice board" I explained slowly "Is because they were put up by someone from school. I'm not working anywhere where I might have to deal with people from school. No way!"
"Millie's right though,” said Gemma "They pay a lot and it's highly unlikely that you'll accept a job from someone who's connected with our year. You probably won't even know that person or see them at school"
"Come on!" wheedled Millie "The trip won't be the same without you. Just come and have a look after school"
"Fine" I said somewhat reluctantly "I'll just look"
When the day was over I was dragged, still reluctant, to reception and the notice board. It didn't look promising.
"What about this one? £14 a day to water this old lady's roses"
"Millie, I have hay fever"
"Oh...well there's this one. The newsagents needs someone for an after school paper round"
"Oh yeah. Like my Mum will let me deliver papers. She's paranoid that everyone out there is going to abduct me"
"I've actually found a decent one" said Gemma, ignoring Millie's indignant look “£10 a day to baby-sit seven year old twins for two hours after school on a Tuesday and Thursday"
"Let me see" Millie snatched the paper away from Gemma "Wow. Posh neighbourhood"
"Yeah but you'd still only get £480 at the end of the six months. You need to have all your money ready by then." protested Gemma.
"None of the other jobs pay this much," snapped Millie. She turned to me, "Take the job. You'll get most of the money you need and we can think up another way to get the remaining..." she paused to work it out.
"£220" said Gemma impatiently.
"See,” said Millie brightly "That's not much at all!"
I stared down and the baby blue poster in my hand. Millie had a point. It would get me a large majority of the money I needed and how hard could it be to take care of two little kids?
"Fine I'll take the job”; I said stuffing the poster in my pocket.
"And just think," said Millie throwing an arm round my shoulder "In August you and me'll be on a ship in the clear blue ocean working under the sunny sky having the time of our lives"
