Centre Stage: A Novel

in the same form as you. I don’t like any of the girls in my form.’
    Sympathy swept over me. ‘It’s not fair. Why did they have to pick you?’
    ‘I don’t know,’ Ally moaned.
    ‘We’ll meet up every break and lunch,’ Harriet promised.
    Ally looked relieved. ‘So have you just had Maths too?’ she asked as we all headed outside.
    ‘Yes,’ Harriet said eagerly. ‘It was brilliant. We’ve got a really good teacher and everything we did was really interesting.’
    Ally looked at me. ‘And translated into non-maths-genius speak?’
    ‘Boring,’ I grinned.
    Ally grinned back and I felt a rush of happiness. It was so nice being the three of us again. We sat down on a low wall that bordered a grassy bank. It was sunny and it felt good to be outside instead of stuck in a stuffy classroom.
    ‘So, didn’t you like anyone in your class?’ I said to Ally.
    She shrugged. ‘A couple of the girls seem OK I suppose.’ Her eyes suddenly sparkled and she leant forwards. ‘And some of the boys are quite nice,’ she said, dropping her voice. ‘There’s this one called Nathan. He sat near me in Maths. He’s got brown hair and it’s sort of spiky.’
    ‘You fancy him!’ I squealed.
    ‘Well, he is cute.’ Ally grinned. ‘So, what about the boys in your class?’
    I thought back. I hadn’t really taken that much notice. ‘I guess there are one or two who are OK,’ I replied.
    Harriet nodded. ‘There was that one by the door in Maths — Jake, I think he’s called. He’s quite fit.’
    Ally giggled. ‘I wonder who’s going to be the first of us to get a boyfriend?’
    We all exchanged hopeful grins. None of us had ever been out with a boy — not properly. All we’d ever done was hold hands with boys a few times. However, in secondary school things were going to be different. There were loads more boys for a start.
    ‘Whoever gets a boyfriend first has got to tell the others all about it. Agreed?’ Ally said.
    ‘Agreed!’ Harriet and I replied together.
    ‘Particularly if they kiss,’ Ally added.
    ‘Definitely,’ I said.
    ‘One hundred per cent definitely,’ Harriet said.
    ‘One hundred and fifty per cent definitely!’ Ally declared.
    ‘Actually you can’t really have one hundred and fifty per cent, Ally,’ Harriet corrected her. ‘You see one hundred per cent is actually the maximum that…’
    Ally and I glanced at each other and then at precisely the same moment began to tickle Harriet in the ribs.
    ‘No!’ she squealed, gasping with laughter and falling back on the grassy bank. ‘Get off! Get off!’
    I grinned as we released her. It was brilliant to be back together.
    The day flew by in a blur of lessons. History, French, English… By three o’clock it was a relief to collapse on to the bus.
    ‘I can’t believe they gave us homework on our first day,’ I complained as my bag, full of new books, hit the floor of the bus with a dull thunk. ‘I mean, how unfair is that?’
    ‘I know,’ Ally agreed.
    Harriet opened her homework notebook. ‘We didn’t get that much. Finish the exercise in Maths, write a page about our life and our family for English and read a chapter of our History book.’
    ‘And answer the questions at the end of the chapter,’ I groaned. ‘It’s tons!’
    ‘You think you’ve got it bad, Soph,’ Jessica said, turning round in the seat in front. ‘Wait till you’re in Year Ten.’ She looked at Dan, her boyfriend, who was coming back to ours for tea. ‘It’s a nightmare, isn’t it?’
    Dan nodded. ‘Every single teacher we’ve had all day has started the lesson by giving us a lecture on how we’ve really got to start working hard and thinking about the exams this year,’ he told us. ‘I don’t think they expect us to have a life!’
    Jessica sighed. ‘I wish I was back in Year Seven.’
    ‘Me too,’ Dan agreed.
    I couldn’t imagine Dan in Year Seven. He’s really good-looking, sort of like Freddie Prinze Junior, with short dark hair and a really nice smile. For a while in the summer he and Jessica had broken up but now they were back together and they seemed really happy. I wished I could find a boyfriend like Dan.
    I looked hopefully round the bus. A group of Year Seven boys were sitting at the back. They seemed to be having a burping competition. Gross!
    Near to them, my brother Tom was sitting with his mates, their feet propped up on the seats in front. They weren’t much better. A year ago they had all been fairly