‘Jesus, Jennifer,’ I said, shocked that she might even think that about herself, ‘you’re like the prettiest girl in school. What are you talking about?’
Her face turned instantly red.
‘Brendan, I absolutely am not and you know it.’ She flicked her head and breezed on. ‘Anyway. We’re going?’
‘Yeah, I guess we’re going?’
‘OK,’ she said.
‘Yeah,’ I said.
We looked at each other. It felt like we should hug or something but we didn’t.
‘I’m actually looking forward to it now, weirdly,’ Jennifer said, biting at a fingernail.
‘So am I. Weirdly.’
‘Us two weirdos.’
‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘I’m really OK with being a weirdo, though.’
‘Me too,’ she said.
I ballooned out my cheeks because I didn’t know what else to do.
‘Are you not supposed to be in the library for French revision?’ she said. ‘That’s on a Wednesday lunchtime, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah, good memory. I do have that. I better go do it,’ I said like a robot.
‘Need any help?’
‘Loads!’
‘Want me to help?’
‘What, now? It’s your lunch break.’
‘I don’t mind.’
‘But isn’t Margaret waiting for you?’
‘Margaret waits for no one.’
‘Sounds scary.’
‘She is, but she’s also really good at talking things through with people.’
‘What, like problems and stuff?’
‘Yeah … or … whether to ask a boy to the formal or not,’ she said, looking at me with eyes that might have been batting if they weren’t so still.
‘Is that what you were talking about just now on the way to the canteen?’
‘Believe it or not, yes.’
‘Was the “boy” … ?’ I asked.
‘Believe it or not,’ she said again, ‘yes.’
