Читать книгу Picture Perfect - Holly Smale, Холли Смейл - Страница 11

n fairness, I’ve had a good run.

If you take away all the holidays and weekends, we actually only have to be at school for 195 days a year. Add to that night-times, mornings, a few field trips, an hour for lunch every day plus two fifteen-minute breaks and the potential for getting sick now and then, and I won’t have to see Alexa for more than 1,118.5 hours this academic year.

That’s only a full 46.6 days.

A month and a half of solid Alexa Roberts.

On my own.

Oh, God. I’d really rather get it all out of the way at once. Maybe I should ask if she wants to move in with me.

“This year it’s just going to be you and me,” I correct quietly as Nat kisses my cheek and runs through the school gates towards the office.

Then I stare at the shrieking crowd of girls she’s now surrounded by.

They look strangely unfamiliar, and it takes a while to work out it’s because for the first time apart from field trips that we’re not in our school uniforms. Laura has a leather jacket, and Lucie is almost unrecognisable wearing bright red lipstick. Anna has blue feathers wound into the back of her ponytail, as if she killed a bird and ceremoniously attached it to the back of her head. It’s like seeing a fully dressed theatre production when you’ve only seen the rehearsal before.

The boys are all wearing jeans and T-shirts and have clean faces and short hair.

I look down at the Spider-Man T-shirt I bought last week and then touch my new bob haircut. I think it’s obvious which camp I fall into.

Maybe I’ll just make the most of it, grow a moustache and hide in the boys’ toilets this year.

“Harriet Manners.” A thin boy in orange corduroys and a Spider-Man hoody taps me on the shoulder. There appear to be tiny cartoons of goldfish on his socks. “How coincidental that we match perfectly today. One might call it fate. Destiny. Serendipity.”

It’s none of those things. He was hiding behind a clothes rack when I bought my T-shirt.

“Morning, Toby,” I say as he wipes his nose on his sleeve and stares at it in fascination.

Then I see the opened white envelope in his hands.

There are ten times more bacteria in your body than there are actual body cells, and I can suddenly feel them: squirming all over me.

“Is that …” I swallow as my entire body begins fizzing. “Is that them?”

“Yes,” Toby says. “Or no. That’s a very vague question, Harriet. They wouldn’t let you into the FBI with that kind of approach. I’ve checked.”

“One day,” Nat sighs, returning from the office, “you’re going to answer a question like a normal person, Toby, and we’ll all pass out with shock.”

“So …” I swallow. “How did you do?”

“14 A*s,” Toby says, carefully tucking the piece of paper into a folder with TOBY’S EPIC ACHIEVEMENTS written on the front. “Those Mandarin and Classical Civilisation evening classes were not the waste of time and money my parents said they were.”

My stomach spins and I take my phone out of my pocket.

“Here,” Nat says, thrusting a large envelope at me. “Stop thinking about Nick. You know he’s on a shoot in Africa: he’s probably busy having a staring contest with a hippo or something. This one’s yours.”

I stare at it, and then try unsuccessfully to lick my lips.

One way or another, everything in my life is about to change. Be calm, Harriet. Be Zen-like in your acceptance of the roller coaster of life and all its ups and downs and—

“Stop whispering at your results, Harriet,” Nat laughs. “Ready?”

“Mmmmmn.”

“Steady?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Now GO!” Nat yells.

And together we rip open our futures.