Waiting for Callback by Perdita Cargill Read Free Book Online Page A

waggled her eyebrows in a frankly disturbing way.
‘That’s how Aba got with Rob on their cello course.’
    ‘Yep, I can totally see how that would work . . . except I don’t think he smokes . . . Also we don’t get breaks . . . Also I’m not taking up smoking for a guy; even the
smell makes me sick so I’d probably throw up which would not be smooth . . . Also my mum would kill me.’
    ‘All good points. So maybe not my best idea?’
    ‘Maybe not. Anyway, he’s probably got a girlfriend,’ I said, examining my hair for split ends.
    ‘He probably doesn’t. Most guys don’t. Not if they can get a girl without committing.’ Moss read a lot of advice columns, but not much of it translated to our lives.
‘Maybe he’ll be at the social. Can you wait that long?’
    The social was the annual party run by the PTA for our year and up and boys from St John’s (the closest boys’ school) were invited (i.e. made to come). It wasn’t until after
the Christmas holidays and the fact that we were already talking about it was a tragic reflection on our social lives. But it was the only exception to our school’s strict ‘No
Boys’ policy (well, except for a smuggling incident involving a girl in the sixth form, her boyfriend and the changing rooms, but nobody would give us any details and that was Never Going to
Happen Again).
    ‘How is that possible? Archie doesn’t even go to St John’s.’
    Moss shrugged. ‘It’s probably for the best.’
    It probably was. The classy venue for the social was the sports hall.
    Nothing good has ever happened to me in a sports hall.
    ‘Elektra!’ I spun round to see my mother striding towards the gates, waving a hairbrush in a manic fashion to get my attention. Like I/anyone could have missed her; I’m pretty
sure they heard her in the staffroom.
    ‘Aaaaw, look, everyone, Elektra’s mummy’s come to pick her up in her little car. That’s
so
sweet,’ Flissy said, calling a black cab on her iPhone, applying
lipgloss and embarrassing me all at the same time. Which was impressive multitasking. But as soon as my mum got within hearing distance the charm offensive was turned on. ‘Hello, Mrs
Jones,’ she said.
    ‘James,’ I corrected, but they both ignored me. Moss was miming being sick behind Flissy’s back. I loved Moss.
    ‘I adore your bag.’ Flissy was literally talking down to her. My (short) mum looked pathetically pleased by the attention. She hadn’t noticed that Flissy was carrying the
newer, shinier version of the same bag.
    ‘I do hope Elektra isn’t too upset.’
What the?
Flissy had a weird expression on her face. I think it was meant to be concern, but that was obviously an unfamiliar
emotion for her.
    ‘Upset? Elektra, what happened?’
    ‘Nothing,’ I said, trying to steer Mum towards the car (which was a perfectly ordinary size).
    ‘About the biology test? Oh, she didn’t tell you her mark? Eeek, sorry, Elektra!’ Sure, she was really sorry. ‘I probably wouldn’t have told my mum either –
wouldn’t have wanted her to
worry
.’ Flissy smiled ‘sweetly’. ‘Must go, my taxi’s here. So nice to talk to you, Mrs Jones.’
    On the one hand, Flissy had just admired my mother’s handbag and told the truth. On the other hand, she was toxic.
    I hugged Moss and hurried my mother away from the gates and into the car before anyone else could say anything to her and before she could say anything about anything in front of anybody.
Luckily, she was distracted.
    ‘Darling! Your agent called!’
    Thank God she hadn’t said that in front of Flissy.
    ‘And?’ I tried to sound casual, but I’m not sure I managed it.
    ‘You’ve got an audition! Seat belt, seat belt.’
    ‘What for? What? Really? When?’ I was buckling and babbling.
    ‘Well, in about . . .’ she looked at her watch while reversing very dangerously out of the car park, ‘fifty minutes.’
    It wasn’t meant to happen like this. Somehow I was meant to feel prepared