My Family and Other Freaks by Carol Midgley Read Free Book Online Page A

you’re not, buddy. You’re a skinny, drippy wimp.
    Amber is looking on admiringly. “Amber, if you ever buy a T-shirt like that, then I must tell you that we can’t be friends anymore,” I warn tersely.
    Then I spot another boy standing awkwardly at the foot of the tree. It is Shy Boy Sean. “Hello,” he says, a bit embarrassed.
    â€œWhat you doing here?” I say, astonished.
    He gestures with his eyes up the tree to the nerdy glasses boy. “I’m with him. My cousin Neil.” It is the geek in the T-shirt.
    Hold on. This is the boy I’m supposed to be dog-walking with next weekend rather than Damian? Oh, my so-called life gets better and better.
    â€œHello, Neil,” Amber and I say together, shuffling our feet. All the while I am thinking I MUST NOT say Nerdy Neil, I MUST NOT say Nerdy Neil, because I can be a bit Tourette’s like that. It turns out that Neil is starting at our school in September because he’s had trouble “fitting in” at his own school. Right, so he’s been bullied then.
    Amber has now shimmied up the tree too. There are eight people up there now, all chanting, “I have a dream and it is green.” It’s toe-curling, but Amber seems happy.
    â€œIf they like trees so much, why are they trying to crush one to death?” I whisper to Sean. Hesnickers. I seize my chance. “How’s, erm, Damian these days?” I ask.
    Sean instantly looks shifty. “Fine,” he says defensively.
    â€œI can’t believe he hangs around with trashy Treasure,” I say as breezily as I can possibly manage.
    â€œWell, if they’re happy, it’s up to them, isn’t it?” says Sean, looking at me as though I’m the personification of evil. Lovely. So Treasure’s now even got Shy Sean under her spell.
12 noon
    I sulk for the rest of the day.
    When Amber’s dad picks us up she’s buzzing like a mad wasp, telling him how they’re now going to march on the council planning meeting (I mean, what are we—old-age pensioners?). Her dad, who fancies himself as a bit of a Bob Geldof, seems impressed. I sit in the back on my own,seething and hating Sean for being so nice about Treasure.
3 p.m.
    We are in Amber’s bedroom eating hummus, chips and breadsticks. If anyone tried to kiss us now, they’d die from garlic fumes.
    Amber is still raving about the fact that she sat in a tree with some boring people. Oh, to be so easily pleased.
    I tell her what Sean said and that I feel depressed.
    Amber puts her hand on my back like she used to when we were little. “Maybe you should play it a bit more cool with Damian.”
    â€œWhat do you mean? I DO play it cool,” I say.
    â€œWell, not reeeeeeally,” she says. “You could try and be a bit less …”
    A bit less WHAT?
    â€œObvious.”
    OBVIOUS? I am not obvious! I am the queen of subtlety.
    â€œWell, you could not copy Treasure so much and maybe not STARE at him quite so much. I think people have noticed.”
    I know Amber thinks she is helping, but right at this moment I want to flick her very hard on the nose. I’ll get her back one day.
    Still, I practice my “I’m not even looking at you” walk in the mirror. Amber says I look like I’ve been hypnotized by Paul McKenna.
Monday
9:30 a.m.
    School. Time to put the “I’m not even looking at you” walk into practice. Ooh, ooh, Damian is queuing with everyone in the corridor outside the math classroom. Here goes. But I’m concentrating so hard on staring at the floor I walk straight intothe wall. Slam. If this was a
Tom and Jerry
cartoon I’d have a flat face like a frying pan. My geography lever-arch file comes apart and the pages flutter everywhere.
    I can hear two people laughing—oh, what a surprise. The snickerers are Mickey the Thicky and Treasure.
    â€œOh Danni you’re so CLUMSY,” says Treasure in a