“Obviously. The championship heats are in four weeks,” she says, shutting her door behind her. As we walk down the corridor,she pulls her long brown hair back with her hand and glances at me.
“This is Emma,” says Tori, before I can introduce myself. “She’s new.”
“Ah.” Tori’s friend eyes me. “I’m Olive, hi.” She doesn’t sound unfriendly, but she’s not smiling. Maybe that’s just because she’s concentrating on putting her hair into a fishtail plait in record time.
“Pleased to meet you,” I say.
“What’s your star sign?” Tori asks, out of nowhere.
“Er, Aries.”
Tori scrutinizes me, then nods decisively, as if that had been the only correct answer to her question.
“And your rising sign?”
“My what?”
“There are websites where you can look it up. You just have to know the exact time when you were born.”
“I’d have to ask my mum,” I say.
“Then we can look it up together,” Tori says. “I think you have kind of a Libra energy. So maybe that’s your ascendant. Just a hunch. I think you two are going to get on. Olive is a pure Scorpio, but she’s very nice really.”
Olive tosses the finished plait back over her shoulder and looks sharply at Tori.
“I’m a Leo,” Tori adds. She’s gazing expectantly at me, so I nod like I understand, even though I have no clue what that’s meant to tell me about her. “And my rising sign is Gemini. Like Val’s.”
“I thought Geminis were arseholes,” Olive observes.
“Hey!”
“That’s what you said before the holidays. That they were two-faced.”
“Some of them.” Tori sighs. “But my rising sign isn’t very strong. And Val’s definitely Gemini with an Aquarius vibe.”
“Sinclair’s Aquarius, isn’t he?” Olive says.
“Yeah, he’s totally an air sign.”
“I keep telling you, Sinclair’s a much better match for you.”
“Yeah, he’s sweet,” Tori agrees. “Right, Emma?”
“Um, yeah, he—he seems really nice.” And he’s the head teacher’s son, I remember—the head I have so much respect for. I’d better watch what I say now.
“No way could I date him, though,” Tori continues. “I cleared up after he boaked on that sailing trip in the first form, and he knows all my secrets.”
“He’s your soulmate. That’s a good starting point,” says Olive.
“No, no, no danger. Sinclair’s like a brother. It’d be like being into Will.” Tori pulls a face. We join a stream of girls heading from the west wing down the corridor toward the dining room.
“Is Will your brother?” I ask.
Tori nods. “Yeah, he’s in the year below us. You’ll see him at dinner.”
“Will’s very sweet too,” Olive adds.
“He’s too young for you, Olive.”
