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ОглавлениеWE HAD MUSIC NEXT WITH MR CRISP. I LOVE singing. I get that from my mum. She could sing and Dad would say the early morning birds ought to think about getting another job. Mum said singing is like knitting: it ties everything together, especially people. That’s why Dad played the guitar for her and why he played in a band down at the pub on Friday nights. Well, he used to.
So when Mr Crisp said we were doing a farewell concert at the end of term, me and Mia said we’d put our names down for the auditions to sing together, seeing as it was our last year at Parkside Juniors.
Then, after music, I heard Daisy talking to Mia in the loos.
Daisy said, “Let’s just put our names down to do something on our own. We’ll just not tell her.”
Mia said, “We could do a duet, seeing as we’re best friends now.”
They talked about some songs they liked.
“She’d only drown us out anyway,” said Daisy.
They laughed and Mia said, “Actually, I think she’s a rubbish singer.”
Then they came round the corner of the cubicles and Mia slammed, smack! right into me in the doorway.
“I’m not rubbish,” I said.
Her eyes flashed. “I never said that.”
“I heard you.”
Mia went red. She punched her hands on her hips. “I was only joking,” she said.
“She can’t take a joke,” said Daisy.
“And anyway, every time we do something with you, you always get told off. And you’re always making such a big fuss about everything.”
“No, I don’t,” I said.
“Yes, you do!” said Mia.
“No, I don’t! And you’re supposed to be my friend.”
“See, you’re doing it now. You just spoil everything. And I never said for definite I was going to do it with you.”
“You’re not a very good friend. Good friends wouldn’t say things like that.”
“Well, if that’s how you feel,” said Mia, hooking Daisy’s arm and marching down the corridor, “we don’t have to be friends any more.”
I stayed in the loo with the door locked, peeling bits of plastic off the scabby patch by the loo roll until the bell rang.
I could still put my name down for the concert. Only now I’d have to sing on my own.