The Boyfriend Bet Read online

I stopped in my tracks. So he wanted me to come? He didn’t want Ella all to himself, interesting....very interesting.

  “Erm I can’t, I’ve got dance class.” I signalled to my clothes in a lame attempt to explain what I was wearing. “And I kind of have a slight hair situation at the moment.” I did my best chilled out smile, as though I was in total control and had utter confidence that the hair problem would be sorted soon.

  “Shame.” Riley smiled at me and I think I kind of died and went to heaven, and Ella was scowling at me behind him.

  “You didn’t hurt yourself when you fell out of that tree house last night then?” Riley interrupted my brief moment.

  “What?” Ella asked, looking intrigued.

  “Tell you about it on the way, it’s really funny.” Riley said. “Dad thought we had some sort of intruder. It was dark so he was about to call the police!” Riley was laughing like it was the best joke he’d heard all year. “And it was just Charley and her mates, bird watching!”

  “Bird watching?” Ella said in surprise. She grabbed hold of Riley’s arm and they started walking down the path. “In the dark?”

  “Um...yeah, they had binoculars and everything.” Riley carried on walking with Ella. Ella turned to look at me, she was shaking her head in disbelief but she was mocking me too, no doubt about it.

  “Are you sure he’s really the one for you?” Bex was also shaking her head. “He’s such a dumb ass!”

  “I think he was taking the piss,” I snapped. “Just like everybody else does!”

  *****

  Two and a half hours later, I’d finally made it home from dance and Sarah and Bex were sitting on my doorstep. I sighed because if it was possible, I felt even more miserable than before. It obviously meant there was still nobody at home and Ella and Riley must be having a super-fab day out. Oh goody.

  I opened the door and threw my bag under the stairs in a totally pissed off kind of way. Sometimes you just want everybody else to share your bad mood and this was one of those occasions; seeing as they were completely responsible I didn’t think they deserved to be forgiven yet.

  I could sense Sarah and Bex giving each other cautious looks. “Are you alright, apart from the hair?” Bex stood behind me, demanding that I speak to her. Did she actually want a punch in the face because that last question almost sounded like she was asking for one.

  “No I am not alright!” I snapped. “And for your information even the five year olds noticed my hair looked shit!”

  “They didn’t actually use the word ‘shit’ though, did they?”

  “No Sarah, of course not!” I yanked my hair out of the high ponytail that only seemed to be accentuating the really crap highlighting job. “So what are we going to do about this?”

  “Well, I’ve got some good news and some bad news.” Sarah smiled, but she looked unsure of my reaction and that could only mean it was crap news as far as I was concerned.

  “What?” I huffed.

  “I rang up my cousin Cheryl - you know the one who qualified as a hairdresser last year?”

  “Yeah,” I prompted Sarah to continue. God, she was being particularly annoying today.

  “Well she said it should be absolutely fine to bleach it again, or even colour over it, if done properly by someone who knows what they’re doing.”

  “So not you then! Is that the good news or the bad news that I’ve somehow got to find the money to pay to get it fixed?”

  “Erm... that was the good news...you know - that it can be sorted.”

  “Well, what the hell is the bad news?”

  “She said you should leave it at least 48 hours before doing anything else to it.” Sarah looked really sheepish now.

  “48 hours! You mean I’ve got to go to school like this on Monday?” I was almost shouting now. I couldn’t go to school like this!

  “I have some more good news.” Bex said very calmly, which was annoying because I was obviously having a very non-calm moment.

  “What?” I was almost frantic now. I mean, I’m not like one of those really vain girls like Ella, but I could not go to school like this.

  “We bought you a hat.” Bex pulled out a black trilby hat from her bag and chucked it at me.

  “Thanks.” I muttered. This was the solution, to wear a bloody hat all day? On the positive side of things it was actually a very nice hat and surprisingly, after looking in the mirror, it actually suited me, but I reminded myself that was not a reason to forgive my so called mates for not only ruining my hair but also making me look like a complete tit in front of Riley Jackson. And let’s face it I don’t need any help with that.

  “Not bad.” I said as I place the hat on the breakfast bar.

  “Whatever do you look like?” Mum was back. She was laden with about a million carrier bags that looked like the contents could feed a small army. “Shall I call Yvonne?” Mum sighed as though I was a terrible inconvenience to her.

  “Yes.” Of course I wanted Mum to call her - I didn’t want to keep it like this did I? I could hear Mum muttering loads of things like ‘I told you so’ and ‘nobody ever listens to me’ as she put down her million bags and tried to retrieve her phone from her giant handbag.

  “Put them away then.” Mum signalled to the shopping as she put her phone to her ear and then she went out of the room as she started her annoyingly smug conversation with Yvonne. I heard something about how I’d stupidly tried to bleach my hair but as a teenager I knew it all and wouldn’t take her advice and now I looked like an orangutan, apparently!

  I could see Bex and Sarah sniggering as I was putting away shopping in the kitchen cupboards. I don’t know why Mum insisted on leaving the room to have a ‘private’ conversation if she carried on talking so loudly, especially when she was slagging me off...rude or what?

  “She’s coming round on Thursday night, so I hope you haven’t got dancing but that’s the only time she’s free.” Mum threw her phone down.

  “Thursday!” I spat. I was expected to walk around like this until Thursday night? I could feel the hysterical panic rising up inside of me. “I can’t go to school like this!” I was almost shouting now and Mum was giving me a look, her eyebrows raised.

  “Erm, yes you can young lady, I don’t think having orange hair is an illness and anyway it’s completely your own fault.” Mum said in her very irritating told-you-so voice.

  “I can’t wait until Thursday!” I was nearly frantic. Sarah and Bex were just watching on.

  “Well if you went to a salon it would cost you twice as much and I expect that you don’t even have the money to pay Yvonne?” Mum looked at me as I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head. “I’m only going to pay Yvonne to do it as I don’t want to look at that mess either.” She nodded at my head. Mum was really sticking the knife in now and she knew I wasn’t going to argue because it was true, I had next to no money and I was going to have to rely on Mum to bail me out of this one. I listened to Mum whinge on about how I should take her advice more often and I should think myself lucky that she was going to pay for me to have my hair fixed. Sarah and Bex thought the whole thing was completely funny even though I would go as far as saying it was totally their fault.

  I still felt a bit sick when I thought about going into school on Monday - how could I possibly get away with walking around for four whole days and think that nobody was going to notice my hair? Mum had made it clear that I am to be eternally grateful that she is paying, but I’m actually quite mad that she is going to force me to go to school looking this horrendous. Four whole days!

  I went dancing the next day with a baseball cap on and then hid indoors for the rest of the day. Annoyingly it was a nice, warmish day considering it was the beginning of November, and I was cooped up inside. I could hear giggling at one point and when I went into Peter’s bedroom to look out into the back garden I could see Ella parading around out there in teeny tiny shorts and a very tight top, knowing all too well that she would be clearly seen from next door. Sh
e was trying to make out she was exercising or something. I personally thought she was going to get pretty cold soon, as she didn’t look like she was putting much hard work into it to keep warm either!

  I flopped down on my bed, trying to read to take my mind off my shit life but that didn’t work. I should have never even got my hopes up over Riley Jackson. People like me just do not get boys like Riley and to add to the humiliation, I may well soon have to go to school with pink hair as well if Ella gets her way. So, against all the odds I’d once got Sam, but look where that had landed me. Maybe that was a lesson I should have learned when Sam cheated on me...that I shouldn’t expect anything better.

  I had consistently made myself look like an idiot, wrecked my hair, and now I am going to be forced to go to school tomorrow when that is the last thing in the world I want to do. So, Riley’s already seen the hair but the rest of the school hasn’t and I certainly do not want Sam to see it. I’m sure the look I was trying to achieve was ‘hey, look what you’re missing’ not reassuring him that he’d had a lucky escape.

  Why was I still thinking of Sam anyway? I dunno, life would have been so easy if my boyfriend-stealing-sister wasn’t around. I’d still be with Sam, I’d still be deliriously happy and I certainly wouldn’t be making a complete and utter fool of myself over the boy next door. I wouldn’t have looked at him twice because Sam was enough for me, he was everything to me. Obviously I wasn’t enough for him and obviously he’s a lying, cheating ass, but that doesn’t make me not feel anything for him anymore. Even though I don’t want to, it’s not like there is a switch you can just turn off, is there?

  Keeping a low profile

  I had the worst sleep possible. I’d just been dreaming that Riley Jackson had publically declared how much he secretly loved me (as if) and as he grabbed hold of me, my black trilby hat fell off in front of everyone and my orange hair was in the hat and I was bald. I should have realised it wasn’t going to work out for me, even in a dream!

  I desperately patted my head as I woke up. Phew, I still had hair, even if it was orange .I realised I could have done with perhaps waking up a good ten minutes earlier (at least) and after running down the stairs I found a very made-up Ella who had obviously been up for hours by the looks of it. Well if looking good meant you had to get up at some crazy time in the morning, then I’m not sure I could be all that bothered.

  “Hurry up, Charley you’re late for school and don’t think you’re getting out of it!” Mum was huffing as she looked like she was wrestling Peter into the lounge. Seems I wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to go to school.

  “Let me go!” Peter was yelling so loudly and was trying to prise Mum’s hands from his arms where she seemed to be desperately trying to control him. Great, didn’t we know Peter was home!

  “Ella you’re going to school not a fashion show!” Mum shouted over Peter’s shrieks.

  Ella had made an extra effort today and no prizes for guessing why. I had a feeling Mum wasn’t going to win because Peter was currently screaming that he didn’t want to wear his school shoes and it was taking all her effort to pacify him whilst Ella just sat there applying even more make-up, without a care in the world.

  I wandered off to get ready for school. I could still hear screaming even though I was in the bathroom upstairs, and some banging, which I could only assume meant that Peter was now in full on tantrum mode. Peter has massive tantrums even though he’s seven. Mum says it’s not his fault because he has ADHD but that didn’t seem to have stopped Mum from shouting at him.

  It’s bad enough living in a crazy house but when you have nowhere to escape to, not even a space you can call your own, it’s twice as bad. I finished scraping my hair back into a messy low bun, anything to get it out of the way. I stared at my reflection in the mirror - the hair really was bad. I was so nearly a blonde haired, blue eyed girl but no, Sarah had to muck that one up, didn’t she? I sighed as I went to find the hat. I definitely needed it.

  “NO! Don’t want to!” Thud, thud! Peter was lying on the floor and kicking the lounge door. I stepped over him. I had better things to do than to worry about Peter and his shoe tantrum.

  “Put them on now!” Mum was screaming so loudly but still I just blocked it all out and found my hat sat in the kitchen where I’d left it. Mum was now forcing a shoe on the foot she had hold of. I sighed, grabbed my bag off the floor and pulled it. How was I supposed to know that the straps were wrapped around the feet of the stool Ella was sitting on STILL doing her make-up?

  Well, I thought the world had come to an end! Ella had mascara smeared all across her face and was now screaming at me. Mum stupidly let go of Peter’s foot to see what the commotion our end was and then Peter, quick as a flash, whipped off the shoe that Mum had spent the last twenty minutes forcing on.

  “Charley what did you do that for?” Mum said just as Ella pushed me. You’d think she was Peter’s age or something. “And don’t push her!” Mum was losing it big time and she’d just noticed Peter was waving his shoe around in his hand. “PUT IT BACK ON!”

  “NOOOOO!” Peter screamed. He was so angry that I think if he had been a cartoon character his head might have exploded or something. He stood up, lifted his arm and threw the shoe across the room.

  I didn’t even have time to duck. It hit me cleanly on the side of my face, catching my left eye. “Ow!”

  “Serves you right!” Ella pushed past me because obviously mascara across her cheek was way more serious than someone just having a shoe thrown in their face. I could feel a little bit of warm blood trickling down my cheek.

  “Why am I bleeding?” I glanced at Peter’s shoe that was now on the floor by my feet. What was it made of, lead or something? My whole eye was throbbing.

  “It’s only a little cut Charley, and it was your fault.” Mum raised her eyebrows at me, totally disregarding the fact that I was bleeding (even if it was minimal).

  “Thanks.” I muttered as Mum went back to wrestling with Peter, just as the door bell rang.

  “Oh for goodness sake!” Mum spat as she had no choice but to let the wriggling Peter out of her grasp. “Whoever it is, they’re going to get a mouthful. What an inconvenient time!” Mum was muttering to herself as she stood up to answer the door.

  I stood rooted to the spot, clutching my face for dear life. I could be bleeding to death for all anyone else cared. Mum opened the door and her muttering immediately stopped. “Hello!” Mum said in a very over the top kind of way; the kind of way that sent out the message that she was absolutely thrilled at whoever had popped round at this most ‘convenient’ time in the morning. “Come in.”

  And then I saw Riley’s dad step into our lounge. I was still stood by the breakfast bar that separates our lounge from the kitchen, just staring at Mum’s immediate change in mood. She suddenly seemed to be a bit flustered as she patted her hair down, aware that she hadn’t spent much time on it this morning.

  I didn’t find out exactly what he had come round for because as soon as he took one look at me, he look horrified. “What happened? I think she needs some ice on that,” he stared back at Mum. Maybe he thought with all the shouting and banging she had walloped me one.

  “Oh yes, I’ll get something from the freezer.” Mum went into motherly protective mode and strode to the fridge-freezer. Funny, she didn’t give a shit about me until someone else had voiced their concern. “Peter threw his shoe across the room and Charley just happened to be in the way.” Mum offered the explanation, without noticing that Peter had done a runner and was nowhere to be seen and his school shoes were abandoned on the floor.

  Mum wrapped a tea-towel around a freezer pack and then pressed it onto my face as though I was five and couldn’t hold it for myself. “Yeah thanks,” I muttered sarcastically as I pushed her hand away. Bloody hell, it was really stinging!

  “What did you pop round for anyway Simon?” Mum now turned her back on me. Wow, she was on a first name basis already.

  “I just
wondered if I could borrow a cup of sugar?” Simon smiled.

  “Of course!” Mum was so over the top in her reply that I had to leave the room. And everyone thinks that I’m embarrassing. I went and checked out my face. It was already quite swollen and it looked as though my eye was bruising already, along with the dried up blood. And to think I do not get any sympathy around here.

  “Simon’s going to give me and Peter a lift to school as we’re so late now. Do you want one?” Mum was now frantically running a brush through her hair as Simon waited in the lounge.

  “Erm...no.” I shook my head.

  “Peter!” Mum shouted up the stairs, just as she was standing right next to my ear, Great, I was nearly deaf now as well as half blind. It’s a wonder I’m still sane living here. “Well you make sure you get to school.” Mum stared at me. Ella had already left and I knew I would be pushing it to get there on time, even if I left now.

  “You want me to go looking like this!” I hissed, whilst pointing to myself in horror.

  “Well you’ve got a hat,” Mum took the hat from my hand and plonked it on my head. “And wipe that blood off your face and put some sunglasses on, it’ll be fine.” Mum smiled. Was she for real?

  “Write me a note then.” I demanded. “I’m not taking them off all day and I’ll need a note.”

  “Are we ready?” Simon was now standing in the hall and Peter was stomping down the stairs. I noticed he was wearing his football trainers but Mum didn’t say anything.

  “Just got to write Charley a note,” Mum said.“For sunglasses.” Mum bounced back through to the lounge for a pen and some paper.

  “And the hat!” I demanded. Simon looked even more confused than he did when Mum first announced she was going to write me a note to wear sunglasses. He must be regretting moving house to find an insane family living next door. Mum just smiled a little too sweetly at me and actually went and wrote me a note!

  Mum thrust the note in my hand and then grabbed Peter. Simon was already outside. “Do I look alright, I mean, half decent?”