A pot of tea, best china of course, was laid down and Frank’s mum began to interview me. Until finally, desperately, I sat myself on the sofa and snapped, ‘Shall we put the DVD on, then, Frank?’
Frank’s mum fiddled about with a tiny television in the corner of the room and then said, in a voice choking with excitement, ‘Its all set,’ like this TV was about to beam satellite pictures from space.
Thankfully, Frank’s mum went back to the kitchen while Frank and I sat on opposite ends of the couch and Grandad, pretended to be dozing in his corner. But I decided to blot this peculiar family out and let Eminem take over. Even on a screen the size of a postage stamp, Eminem was brilliant. I sat back and tried to enjoy the film but I couldn’t. For I was being watched.
Frank wasn’t looking at the screen, he was looking at me looking at the video. And every time my eyes caught his, he’d give me this really lopsided smile. There was no getting away from it - Frank fancied me.
I never imagined Frank fancying anyone, certainly not me. Time ago, Selin (my sometime best friend) told me she’d seen Frank giving me the eye. But she reckons everyone gives me the eye, does it to annoy me.
Half-way through ‘8 mile’ I spotted Frank’s grandad having a fit. He was waving his hands about in the air like he was directing imaginary traffic. Was he doing his exercise or freaking out to Eminem? But I soon realised what old Gramps was up to. He was directing Frank to… a hand glided across my back and landed on my wrist. To be exact, it landed on my gold chain, the one I’d bought in Paris. Then this hand started rubbing the chain up and down my wrist.
‘What are you doing?’ I whispered.
‘Happy?’ he murmured, tapping my hand.
I took my hand away. ‘Yeah, really good movie,’ and I fixed my gaze on Eminem.
The second the film finished I shot up. ‘Thanks a lot, must go.’
Before I left I had to shake hands with Grandad, have a second interview with Frank’s mum and then Frank and I were tactfully left alone in the hallway.
His went round me. It was like being held by a clamp. Then more heavy breathing as he tried to kiss me. Throughout the kiss, Frank kept his mouth closed and pressed hard, it was like being kissed by a hoover.
Close up, I noticed all these black dots which covered his face. I wondered if he ever joined them all up. Then he said, ‘What do you want to do tonight?’
‘Tied up tonight. Babysitting.’
‘Want me to come along?’
‘Better not.’
‘I’ll walk you home then.’
Now I was breathing heavily. ‘No, no, honestly.’
‘It’s no trouble.’
‘It’s okay. Must go.’
He patted me on the back. ‘Sara, I was just wondering, when you love someone do you look into their face or their eyes?’
I ran all the way home. Talk about risky.
At last I was safe. But as I opened the door the phone was ringing. ‘It’s for you, ‘ called Mum.
Yes, it was him, just checking I’d got back all right and to let me know that if I changed my mind and wanted him to baby-sit he still could.
Four more phone calls on Sunday, (‘Are you busy all day?’). And Monday morning at 8.30 guess who was waiting at the corner shops for me.
Normally Selin meets me there but this morning, ‘Selin had to go on. ‘ he said displaying his special gormless grin, ‘so I’ll accompany you if you don’t mind.’
‘Oh no.’
Just before we reached school, he suddenly plunged his hand into his bag and produced a massive teddy bear. ‘This is for you, ‘ he said.
It was very large, very yellow and very embarrassing.
Of course everyone saw me walk into school with Frank Patel and teddy bear. All the girls went ‘Aaah’ when they saw the teddy bear and ‘Oooh’ when Frank indicated he had bought the bear for me. More ‘Aaaahs’ when Frank presented me at break-time with a large, soppy card on which he had written, MY HEART IS YEARNING FOR YOU.
By the end of the day all the 6th form assumed Frank and I were going steady. Clearly, Frank did too. I was the only dissenter. Action, quick action, was demanded. I must tell Frank I don’t fancy him. But I hate, absolutely hate doing things like that.
I used to get Selin to inform my boyfriends when there were dumped. Until one bloke told me what really upset him was not me dumping him – but someone he hardly knew screaming out, ‘Sara is dumping you’ right in the middle of a party. (Selin’s got not tact – and she’s a closet shy-person).
So after that I did all my own dumping. But how do you dump someone you’re not even going out with, if you see what I mean.
That night, I typed Frank four e-mails, deleted them all, (might think it was a joke or prank). If I rang him I’d probably get his weird mum on the line, there was nothing else for it, I must tell him face to face.
Next morning face to face at 8.30, but I couldn’t tell him then, too knackering first thing. Instead, I asked if I could see him after school. He replied that he was tied up every night after school with training, although if I wanted him miss training of course he would. Then I suggested lunch-time. But where? Selin and I have all our private hats in the girls’ changing rooms, but I couldn’t invite Frank in there. Nothing else for it – the Mound.
The Mound lies at the back of the back field and is where couples go to their coupling. No wonder Frank was panting, Bet he spent the whole morning panting, He obviously thought he was in for a session of torrid love and instead…
If only I fancied him. Why didn’t I fancy him? He wasn’t bad-looking – especially in his PE kit. He was kind, generous, almost too eager to please. Okay, he had a strange family but who hasn’t. No, Frank passed all my tests, except one. The most important one.
How can I describe it? Well, have you ever gone to sleep on a really warm night with tons of blankets and sheets covering you and when you wake up you fell so hot you an hardly breathe. It’s agony. And those are also the symptoms of deep fancying. Like there was this really hunky guy I met on holiday, tall, dark and handsome, I just had to see him for my body temperature to jump to boiling point.
I tell you, when I’m turned on it’s like I’m wearing a life-sized electric blanket – on maximum. I get so hot and sticky and choked up, it’s marvellous. But Frank, sorry he didn’t even turn on one small radiator. Nothing, That’s when I knew I had to be cruel to be kind. However difficult. Even though when I saw him bounding towards me I knew his big heart was turning cartwheels, and he was probably so hot his skin was peeling.
Frank jumped down behind the Mound, said, ‘Hello, Sara,’ and gave me a very thin, very comfortable hug.
Having got that over I dived in. ‘Frank I want to say something. I really like you.’ A broad grin grew on his face… ‘as a friend.’ The broad grin disappeared.
‘I hope we’ll always be friends. And I know people say ‘Just friends’ but actually no one or hardly anyone goes out with anyone for long…but you keep your friends for years and years.
He nodded, going ‘Uhuh’ but not saying anything else. Then I looked at his eyes – very blue his eyes – and they told me his heart had stopped. I finished quickly, ‘So thanks for the teddy bear. It’s really ice, a very sweet thought. But don’t give me any more – presents.’
He stood up. ‘Better go,’ he said and sprinted away while I spent the rest of the lunch-time behind the Mound, thinking why is life so messy. Why couldn’t God arrange it so that we only fancied people who fancied us.
However, I had to put the mix-up with Frank behind me. It wasn’t my fault, sad though it was. Next day I succeeded. A new horrible event totally overshadowed it. Sprawled all over the wall known as the smokers’ wall was – SARA IS THE BIGGEST SLUT IN ILFORD. Gave me a real shock I can tell you. The letters were so huge, so unmistakable, so vicious.
Couldn’t mean me, though, could they? I tried to think of other Saras who could be called ‘SLUTS’. I couldn’t think of any. Back in the classroom I saw on my desk
- SARA IS THE BIGGEST SLUT IN ILFORD. Soon, wherever I went I saw this vile graffiti. Bet if I went in the Head’s office I’d find it there too. I now knew I was the Sara referred to.
But who would write such horrible things about me? Clearly this wasn’t a joke. Someone hated my guts. And I assumed it was a girl. Which one? I hadn’t stolen anyone’s boyfriend recently.
I asked Selin about the graffiti and she pretended she hadn’t seen it. That’s when I knew every girl in Year 12 was discussing it with every other Year 12 girl – except me.
Tell you something else, I bet Selin knows who’s writing SARA IS THE BIGGEST SLUT IN ILFORD. So on Friday after school and after two days of seeing my name plastered everywhere, I said to Selin, ‘Level with me, Selin, who’s been writing all that nasty stuff about me.’
‘What stuff?’
‘You know – SARA IS THE BIGGEST SLUT IN ILFORD. It’s all over the school.’
‘Oh yes, I have seen it,’ said Selin, colouring a little.
‘You couldn’t fail to see it – but who’s been writing it?’
‘You know,’ said Selin quickly.
‘Honestly, I don’t know.’
Selin paused, ‘It’s to do with your ex.’
‘What, Jay Thanki?’
Selin turned on me. ‘Are you trying to be funny? You know, I mean Frank Patel.’
Even then I didn’t realise. ‘You mean some girl is getting at me because of Frank Patel.’
‘No Sara, I mean Frank Patel is writing the stuff himself. You must have guessed that.’
But when Selin saw my face she knew I hadn’t guessed…not for a second. Why would a decent, gentle, sports hero like Frank Patel spread such vicious lies?
Unfortunately, Sara interpreted my shock as meaning I was pining away for Frank Patel. She goes, ‘It’s hard being dumped by a guy you really care for.’
‘Phil didn’t finish it,’ I said sharply.
‘You’re not saying you finished it.’ Selin sounded amazed.
‘No, I didn’t finish it because we never started.’
‘Oh come off it, Sara, the whole school knows you’re mad about Frank Patel.’
‘What!’
She linked my arm. ‘We all know what you’re going through.’
I unlinked my arm, This was like one of those nightmares which keep getting worse and worse.
‘Listen Selin, have I ever told you I’m madly in love with Frank Patel?’
‘No.’ She paused. ‘But Frank Patel has.’
I stopped walking and stood right in front of her. She stepped backwards ‘I’m not moving another yard and neither are you until you tell me exactly what Frank Patel has been saying about me.’ I added, ‘Please.’
Sara told me. In fact I think she quite enjoyed telling me.
‘Frank Patel is saying that you invited yourself around his house on Saturday afternoon, tried to get off with him, kept ringing and ringing him and on Sunday you and he…did it.’
‘Dream on,’ I murmured trying to hide my anger.
Selin continued. ‘According to Frank Patel you’re obsessed with sex and on Monday – despite him giving you a present and a card – you got off with someone else. That’s why on Tuesday he said he was dumping you, you were just too easy – and made him look a fool.’
‘That sly, miserable…’ I lapsed into swearing while Selin watched me anxiously. Then I turned on her. ‘Why didn’t you tell me all this before?’
‘I…er.’
‘You thought what that rat said might be true, didn’t you?’
‘No, not exactly, I mean, any other bloke I wouldn’t even listen to, but Frank Patel, he’s not like the others.’
‘No, he’s worse. Spreading lies about me just to make himself look good. Fancy saying we went all the way together. Why he can’t even kiss properly.’
‘So you have kissed him, then,’ said Selin quickly,
‘Once – never again. He, also following instructions his grandad, did actually fondle my gold chain. And that’s all our bodily contact. The rest of the time I spent telling his mother how many A-levels I’m sitting. Have you seen his mother?’
‘Yeah, very protective. Since his dad died she calls Frank the man of the house, makes him check all the doors every night.’
‘Didn’t know his father was dead.’
‘Heart attack.’
‘Anyway, I’m sure that’s very sad but no excuse for what he’s done to me. I’m going round his house now to give him a right earful.’
‘I’ve got a better idea,’ said Selin. She spoke slowly. ‘Frank is coming to my party tonight.’
‘Frank Patel going to a party?’
‘Yeah, I was pretty amazed. So why don’t you have it out with him there.’
I thought of Frank’s house and that ghastly mother wondering in and out with tea and questions. ‘Selin, I hate to ruin your party and all, but that prick isn’t going to know what’s hit him tonight.’
Selin stared at me, drinking in my anger. ‘You’re really uptight about this, aren’t you? Can’t blame you.’
We linked arms again. ‘But don’t worry about my party, a big row often makes a party.’ Then in case she sounded too exited, she added, ‘And I’ll do anything to help you get back your good name.’
I arrived at the party late. I’d gone home so wound up I had a row with my mum and nearly wasn’t allowed out at all.
Selin met me at the door My greeting, ‘Where is he?’
Selin’s eyes were shining. ‘Sara, something’s happened.’
‘Go on’
‘Well, Phil was the first guest to arrive – he was here before seven o’clock. He drank and drank, mixed his drinks and now…’
I interrupted, ‘He’s lying upstairs, out of his head.’
‘No, he’s outside pretending to be a dolphin.’
‘What?’
‘He suddenly stripped off all his clothes – except for his pants – and ran out into the garden to do his dolphin impression. He’s doing it now.’
‘This I must see,’ I said.
I joined about half the party outside. They were standing round in a semi-circle, clapping and laughing while Frank capered across the garden, making swimming motions with his hands. Then he called out, ‘Now my dolphin impression,’ and goes, ‘Click, click, click ,click. That is the noise of a very thirst dolphin,’ he looked around, ‘a very thirst dolphin click, click, click.’
‘He wants a drink,’ shouted someone.
A beer can was thrown at him which he caught easily.
‘You didn’t know dolphins could drink beer did?’ he said, pouring most of the beer down his chest. Then he started clapping his hands together going, ‘Aaarp, Aaarp, Aaarp, Aaarp – this is the sound of a very sexy dolphin.’
Some people found this hysterical – a few were crying on the floor with laughter. How could he make such a spectacle of himself.
He was now gambolling around the garden calling, ‘I’m looking for a seal. Aaarp, Aaarp,’ and sniffing at the girls.
I should have enjoyed seeing himself degrade himself. But I didn’t. I stared at his strong shoulders, lean muscular body. Hours and hours of training had helped make him look so impressive. Guys often spoke about their ‘tool’. Frank’s whole body was his ‘tool’ which he had built up and was now destroying.
Suddenly, I shouted out ‘Frank Patel, stop behaving like an idiot.’
At a stroke the laughter stopped, the dolphin impression stopped, silence. I almost enjoyed the dramatic impact I was making.
Everyone assumed Frank and I were Ilford’s answer to Romeo and Juliet – so the crowd parted to let me through.
Then I shouted, ‘Why did you write all those lies about me.’
‘They’re no lies,’ he yelled back, ‘they’re all true.’
‘They’re lies,’ I screamed.
‘They’re true – you are a slut.’
Clearly this shouting math was not doing my image any good. So I snarled, ‘I’ll talk to you inside.’
‘Use my bedroom if you like,’ said Selin. She turned to Frank, ‘If that’s alright with you.’ ‘Yeah, I’ll just swim in,’ he said and started making breast stroke motions. He really was pissed.
The crowd followed us in, no doubt disappointed that the next scene was taking place off stage.
I arrived in the bedroom first. Then Phil staggered into view, a beer can in his hand,
‘Close the door,’ I said. He obeyed. ‘Now we’re alone,’ I continued, ‘tell me why you’ve been writing all those lies about me?’
‘You messed me about.’ He spat the words at me, like he was now impersonating a very angry dolphin. ‘You’re a user, just using me to get presents out of me.’
‘Crap. It’s only you haven’t been out with many girls – and don’t know that a girl can go round to a guy’s house as a friend. And that’s what I did. But you’d obviously planned the whole thing – and told your family I was your future wife or something.’ I paused. He was standing in front of me still wearing only his underpants. He looked very young, very alive.
‘I’m just going to open a window,’ I said. ‘It’s getting a bit stuffy in here’
I can never open windows. They always seem to jam in my hands. This one was no exception. I pushed all my weight against it. Couldn’t budge it. Then Phil just seemed to run his finger against it; opened instantly.
His finger touched mine. I tried to get a gulp of fresh air but instead I got a mouthful of Frank. He grabbed me and pressed his lips so roughly against mine I was certain they’d start bleeding. Then his tongue tore into my mouth – no holding back this time. I must fight him off – in a minute.
For the first time Frank frightened me. He was almost naked and I could feel his body tight against mine, desperately forcing himself onto me. And it was so hot I could hardly breathe. I pushed him away.
‘Open the window,’ I murmured.
‘They’re open,’ he said,
‘Can’t be.’
He lunged for me again. He was shaking with excitement and passion.
‘No, no,’ I said. The heat was making me dizzy. I swayed towards the window and gulped in gallons of fresh air. I turned on him. ‘How dare you try to get off with me. You don’t know the first thing about girls – grabbing me like that.’
He didn’t answer, just stood there shivering. I staggered to the door. I was baking. ‘I’m going home now and I’d like you to know you’ve ruined this week and this party for me – and I don’t want to speak to you again, ever.’
I slammed the door and just stood on the outside, my head throbbing, my mind reeling, my heart……
I pushed open the door again.
He was sitting on the bed, his head in his hands.
‘And another thing…’
He looked up.
‘Ring me tomorrow night.’
