Kiss Read online

  We could play Glassworld a n d S a n g r i a together.'

  'You mustn't tell him! Promise you won't.

  He'll be so mad at me,' I said as we collected our chips and went to sit down.

  'You're not scared of him, are you?'

  'No. I j u s t don't w a n t to upset him.'

  'You are so sweet with him. Don't you believe in playing h a r d to get sometimes? Why don't you t r y acting up and being difficult? Maybe making out you're keen on someone else?'

  'There wouldn't be any point. Carl knows me too well. I'm not the slightest bit interested in anyone else.'

  'Oh, yawn! You're a hopeless case. Stuff your 98

  chips in your gob before you come out with more sickening stuff. OK, it's obvious I can't try to get Carl off you. We'll have to get him to find a special pal for me. What about this footballer friend Raj mentioned? Have you met him?'

  'No. I don't t h i n k he can be a real friend. Carl hates football.'

  'Yes, but maybe he likes h i m . '

  'He's never really mentioned him.'

  'Well, you mention him. See if we can get together. You could come to my place. No silly kissing games, I promise. Well, unless we s t a r t serious snogging. You and Carl, me and football guy. I hope he's more David Beckham t h a n Wayne Rooney in looks. Carl might come again even if it's j u s t to admire my stained glass. Or we could go to your place if it would make him more comfortable.'

  'My place isn't comfortable. Not any more.' I bit the end off a chip and t h e n started arranging the others according to size.

  Miranda waited, unusually tactful.

  'My dad cleared off two years ago. He doesn't even bother to come to see me now, not t h a t I care. He doesn't always send Mum money for me. She works, but we have to have lodgers too, to pay the mortgage. I h a d to move out of my proper bedroom. I j u s t have this little cupboard room now. It's not big enough to have friends round.'

  'I'm quite a small friend. Well, I'm ginormous compared to you, but everyone is. I can scrunch 99

  up small in your cupboard. And the two boys can lie on your bed – or even under it.'

  Miranda used h e r own meal to demonstrate, t u r n i n g her carton into a tiny room, her paper napkin into a bed, and then putting two chips on top and two underneath. Then she made one of t h e top chips lean over and kiss one of the bottom chips.

  'Idiot. Have you got a watch on? What do you think the time is?'

  'I don't know. Maybe half one? Let's j u s t go and have a peer round TopShop, it's up on the first floor,' said Miranda, stuffing all four chips into h e r mouth and chomping enthusiastically.

  'We'll be late back for school.'

  'No we won't. God, you're such a worry-guts.

  J u s t t h e quickest of quick peeps, OK?'

  I let her drag me out of McDonald's and up the escalator to TopShop. Inevitably, it wasn't a quick peep at all. Miranda spotted a black lace vest top she said she'd been looking for all her life.

  'I've got enough cash on me. Heaps.'

  'So buy it then. But do hurry!

  'I'll have to t r y it on. Maybe it won't stretch over my great big boobs.'

  'Stop boasting!

  'I'm not, I'm not, I'm complaining like crazy –

  they get in the way so.'

  'Well, lend t h e m to me. I'm sick of being totally flat-chested. I look like a little boy, for God's sake.'

  I wondered if t h a t was why Carl didn't w a n t 100

  to kiss me. Maybe I simply didn't look grown up and girly enough.

  I looked at the black silky vest with its slinky straps and pink lace edging. 'What do you t h i n k it would look like on me?' I asked wistfully.

  'It would look great. You try one on too, come on.'

  So I picked up one of the vests and we went to the changing rooms together. Miranda pulled h e r school s w e a t e r a n d blouse off unself-consciously. We were supposed to wear plain white underwear to school but she was wearing an amazing tangerine bra embroidered with little turquoise flowers.

  'Wow,' I said. 'It's a good job you haven't got PE today.'

  I turned away to shrug myself out of my own top. I was horribly embarrassed by my sad little girl's bra like a white bandage. I put the black vest on quickly. I peered hopefully into the mirror, expecting some kind of magical transformation. My reflection peered back. The vest j u s t looked like a vest, the sort of garment you wore for warmth. The straps slid uselessly off my narrow shoulders, exposing the straps of my b r a . T h e m a t e r i a l drooped about me unattractively.

  I looked at Miranda. The vest was transformed. It clung to her like a corset, the straps t a u t against her smooth white skin, the black lace stretched to the limit over h e r cleavage.

  The tangerine of her bra straps contrasted 101

  exotically. She looked incredible.

  'It's not fair,' I said, tugging my vest off and hurriedly pulling on my school shirt.

  'Hey, hang on, I didn't have a proper look.'

  'You wouldn't w a n t to. It looked awful.'

  'I'm sure it didn't. Don't be like t h a t . Maybe you need a smaller size.'

  'They don't come in smaller sizes. None of the clothes in normal shops look right on me. I'm going to have to shop in bloody Mothercare.'

  'Oh, Sylvie, you are funny.' Miranda gave me a sudden h u g to cheer me up.

  An assistant twitched the curtain to check on the cubicle and looked startled to see two girls embracing in their underwear.

  'You're not m e a n t to be in there together,' she said hastily, h e r cheeks pink. 'Come on, get dressed. I want you out of here.' She flounced off, rattling the rings of our cubicle curtain.

  'Oh my God, she thinks we're getting it on together!' said M i r a n d a , whooping w i t h laughter.

  'Oh, Miranda!' I said, going bright red. 'Quick, put your blouse on. Let's go!'

  Miranda's laughter was terribly infectious. I started giggling too, and then I couldn't stop, even though I covered my mouth and bit my lips.

  We staggered out of the changing room, snorting and squealing. I felt every sales girl was staring at us disapprovingly. I was ready to r u n right out of t h e shop, but Miranda made me wait.

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  'I want to buy the top, silly.'

  'You can't buy it now!'

  'Why not? It looks good on me, doesn't it?'

  'But they're all looking at us, thinking we're

  . . . you know.'

  'Who cares? Anyway, so w h a t if we were?

  Grow up, Sylvie.'

  I knew Miranda h a d the right attitude but I couldn't help feeling horribly embarrassed as we waited in the queue for her to pay. She made it worse, playing to the crowd, putting her arm round me and gazing at me fondly.

  'Stop it!' I hissed.

  'Oh come on, where's your sense of humour, Coochie Face?' said Miranda, laughing at me.

  I was even more upset when we got out of the shop at last and saw the time on the big ornamental clock.

  'Oh no! It's nearly two! We'll be so late. We're going to be in so much trouble! Come on!'

  I started running. Miranda h u n g onto me.

  'Don't, Sylvie. Slow down and s t a r t thinking.

  You're right, we really will be in big trouble if we go back to school now. If we waltz in halfway through the afternoon then it'll be dead obvious t h a t we've been out. But if we don't go back at all then they'll j u s t think we're away ill or something. They don't t a k e a register in t h e afternoon, do they? The teachers won't even notice.'

  'But the other girls will know we were here this morning.'

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  'No one will dare blab on me. Do you think old Lucylocks will tell?'

  'She wouldn't tell to get me into trouble, but she might be worried about me, scared t h a t something's happened.'

  'Oh yeah, I suppose she might s t a r t flapping.

  Can't you text her? Look, borrow my mobile.'

  'She hasn't got a mobile her