Mum comes down the stairs behind me. She’s still smiling like she knows something I don’t.
‘OK, well, we’re going now,’ I say, grabbing Ed by the shirt. ‘See you later.’
‘Have fun!’ Mum shouts as I close the door behind us.
‘Sorry about my Gubba,’ I say. ‘She can be a tad inappropriate after a sherry or two.’
‘It’s fine,’ Ed replies. ‘Though I think you should be apologising for that skirt.’
I laugh. ‘Says the man in light blue cowboy boots! Did you steal them from the Village People?’
‘Yeah, well you look like you’d start a bar fight,’ Ed continues as we turn the corner. ‘Those pretty pigtails don’t fool me.’
‘I think you mean purdy pigtails,’ I correct. ‘And I’m actually really annoyed that you have a gun in your holster, and I don’t.’
He grins. ‘I’d lend you it, but it’s stuck in there unfortunately. Must be in case I pretend to hold up a bank.’
‘You realise this is going to be horrible,’ I tell Ed as we near the school. ‘My worst nightmare is that we’re the only ones that show up in full costume.’
‘My worst nightmare is that I actually enjoy it,’ he replies, and I start to laugh. Apart from Lauren, he’s the only person on earth who can make me properly belly laugh. And we have this thing where we make fun of each other to see who can make the other laugh the loudest. I’ve known Ed for a year now, but it feels like I’ve known him forever.
Lauren’s been paired with William Schofield, and I doubt very much they’re arriving together considering he insists on callingher Lauren the lesbo and she, in turn, calls him Billy Bitch-Tits. I’m so glad Ed joined our school; lord knows who I’d have ended up with otherwise.
We can hear the music as we walk into the school grounds. ‘Jingle Bell Rock’, one of the songs they had us practise to for a fortnight and I officially hate it now. I see other pupils from year 11 ahead of us and I’m instantly relieved that we’re not the only ones dressed like idiots.
‘You ready to step-touch?’ Ed asks, his boots scuffing along the ground.
‘Hell, no,’ I reply. ‘But I think you’re secretly looking forward to this.’
He shrugs. ‘Might be all right; you never know.’
It’s obvious Ed has never been to one ofourschool dances or he’d know they’re never all right. We have three every year: Valentine’s, Christmas and the end of the school year. I hope to god Lindsay Templeton’s mum has been exiled from the PTA by the time Valentine’s comes around. God knows what she’d suggest for that.
Ed
The first thing I notice when we enter the gym hall is the hay. There are bales of it all around the edge of the hall and people are sitting awkwardly on them. Then the bunting. Stars and stripes bunting hung from corner to corner over the dancefloor, which so far is empty because everyone is too busy picking straw out of their backsides.
‘Yee-haw bitches!’ I hear a voice yell behind me. ‘Can you believe this shit?’
I turn around to see Lauren, already hugging Kate. Lauren is probably the only other girl I actually like at this school and don’t just tolerate for the sake of being friendly. She’s quite similar to Kate in some ways but wildly different in others.
‘I was going to give the award to Ed for best cowboy, but I think you might have cinched it,’ Kate tells her. I’d have to agree. Lauren has dyed her fringe red, white and blue and is wearing a pair of white cow-print trousers with a matching waistcoat. She’s also wearing a white cowboy hat which earns her bonus points.
‘Ah, thanks,’ she replies. ‘I thought I’d make an effort since there’s feck all else to do around here. I did see several sixth-formers in Daisy Dukes, so I’m hoping they’ll get thrown out for corrupting the juniors.’
‘Daisy Dukes?’ I ask.
Kate points towards the doors where three girls stand in very short denim shorts and belly tops. ‘Ah,’ I reply, trying not to stare. It’s difficult, however. I’m fifteen.
‘Where’s your dance partner?’ I ask Lauren, moving the conversation away from tiny shorts. ‘Warming up outside?’
‘Billy Bitch-Tits? No idea,’ she replies. ‘Hopefully, he’ll give this one a miss and make my night. The boy smells like hot dogs.’
‘Everyone, we’re about to begin. Please take to the floor for a warm-up “Cotton Eye Joe”.’
Lauren immediately launches herself towards the centre of the room while Kate and I reluctantly follow behind. If it wasn’t for Kate, this night would be miserable. In fact, if it wasn’t for Kate, my entire existence would be miserable. We reach the dancefloor and the music starts. Not one of us can remember what the hell we’re doing. It’s an utter shambles, so much so that a couple of teachers have to come to the front to remind us how it’s done.
‘Having fun yet?’ Kate asks, as we bump into each other.
