The Taming Of The Tights. Louise Rennison

      I had to dry my hands on my leggings.

      As we came out, Bob was dragging a big roll of plastic sheeting up the stairs that led to the roof. I said, “Hi, Bob, didn’t recognise you without your horns.”

      He said, “Yeah, it’s a bummer because my first love is the band, but hey, you’ve got to earn your bread.”

      Flossie said, “What’s the plastic sheeting for?”

      Bob said, “There’s been, like, a roof incident.”

      Jo said, “What incident?”

      Bob said, as he huffed and puffed away, “Well, dudes, it’s essentially blown off.”

      I said to the Tree Sisters, “Get your umbrellas out, you’re going to need them when you go to bed.”

      The rest of the morning we had tutorials and sorted out rehearsal times and class syllabuses and book lists, so we didn’t see much of each other until lunchtime. Still no sign of Sidone. Apparently, she’s doing some community-work thing.

      Jo said, “She thinks the community will try to help keep Dother Hall going.”

      We laughed.

      At lunchtime bell, we all met in the café. Vaisey is mad keen to go to the Special Tree to see Jack and Jo looks like her head has exploded she is soooo excited about seeing Phil.

      Flossie said, “I just want to see some boys. Any boys. Let’s go let’s go let’s go!!!!”

      After a bit of lip gloss and hair shaking and a reviving lunch on the run (Cheesy Wotsits), the Tree Sisters were ready to face the boys of Woolfe Academy.

      Well, most of us were.

      I felt shy about seeing Charlie again. I know he said he was sorry and had handled the whole snogging-me-but-having-a-girlfriend thing badly. And he’d said, “You’re top, Tallulah and don’t let anyone tell you any different.” But that sort of implies that other people WILL tell you different, doesn’t it?

      If you say “Don’t let them tell you”, that means they might tell you.

      And that … oh, I don’t know.

      And also, should I ask about his girlfriend? Like a mate would.

      Do I ask politely if she’s still tiny?

      Hang on, is that my dream or has he actually said she’s tiny?

      I mustn’t say she’s tiny if she isn’t tiny because that would be … tiny-ist.

      No one noticed I wasn’t as keen as they were.

      Vaisey and Jo were doing very fast walking, crunching through the leaves and bracken to get to Phil and Jack.

      Flossie said to me, “So do you think about those Hinchcliff boys, Miss Lullabelle?”

      Uh-oh.

      I said, “No, I don’t. They’re wild, uncontrollable animals.”

      Flossie said, “I know, that’s why I like them so much. I’d like to see that Seth boy again. I wonder where he is.”

      I stumped on and said, “In a cave somewhere, I should think. Or prison.”

      We reached our secret place, our secret meeting place in the forest. Where we danced around our Special Tree.

      The Special Tree where Honey told us we should be proud of every part of ourselves. Flossie’s glasses, Jo’s conker hair, Vaisey’s wiggly bottom, even my knees! Yes, even my knees!

      A chill breeze rustled the leaves left on the trees, there were no signs of life. No birds or creatures and certainly no boys.

      After five minutes of kicking leaves and hunching her shoulders against the cold, Jo said, “Where are they? Phil promised he’d come to see me on our first day back.”

      I was sort of disappointed and relieved at the same time. I said, “Well, they’re not here so …”

      Vaisey shouted from behind the tree, “Do sausages grow on trees?”

      Flossie said, “Vaisey, is this like ‘why did the sausage cross the road?’ because I’m not interested in sausages, I’m interested in boys. If you’d said ‘do boys grow on trees’ you would have got my attention. But the sausage thing – no.”

      That’s when we saw what Vaisey meant. Attached to the back of our Special Tree was a sausage with a ribbon round it and underneath it, an envelope.

      Jo grabbed the envelope and ripped it open. Then started jumping up and down saying, “Ohohohoh!”

      I said, “What? What? WHAT?!!!”

      Jo’s face had gone all pink. Flossie put a hand on her shoulder to hold her down. Jo panted, “It’s from Phil. It’s his writing. He sent me lots of photos of himself over the holidays. In unusual poses.”

      Vaisey started to say, “What sort of unusual …” until I shook my head at her.

      Jo was in full flow reading out the sausage letter.

      “Dear Tree Sisters,

       Yes, I do mean you, Vaisey, Jo, Lullah and Flossie, this letter is from us. The lads. The top lads of all time. The bad lads. The lads … sorry, I had to stop there because Charlie got me in a headlock until I stopped writing ‘lads’. What’s he like? He’s such a lad … sorry, another break there, he did it again. Anyway, we can’t be with you because we are on a special bonding workshop all day with no breaks.

      Hoppy says it will give us an identity as a group and respect for others. Mostly it’s press-ups and stabbing sacks with sticks.”

      Flossie said, “Cor.”

      Jo continued.

      “I know for a fact you like that sort of thing, you naughty girls. Anyway, we can’t get away till tomorrow so I crept out and left this note and a sausage in case you were peckish.

       See you tomorrow.

       Phil, Charlie, Jack and Ben.

       PS Big snog, Jo, you tiger (that’s me Phil by the way) xx

       PPS Charlie here. Hi everybody x

       PPPS Cheers, Vaisey, Jack x

      PPPPS Hi, everyone and Flossie, very much looking forward to seeing you again. Ben x”

      As we walked back to Dother Hall, Jo was jumping around in front of us, telling us about the photos that Phil had sent.

      “There was this one of him with a human-sized inflatable banana he’d taken shopping. He bought it some shoes in a shoe shop and …”

      Flossie had learned to juggle in the holidays. She said, “I think you’ll find it very entertaining.”

      I made the mistake of saying, “I don’t really know how juggling can be – erm – entertaining.”

      Flossie put her arm round me, which was a bit alarming. She said, “I’ll illustrate for you, my little chum, how very, VERY entertaining juggling is. Everyone give me your tights.”

      I said, “No way, I’m not going to take my tights off – it’s bloody freezing.”

      Vaisey and Jo both said no, they wouldn’t either.

      Five minutes later, Flossie showed us how she could make our tights into little juggling balls. She juggled our three tights balls with one hand and threw her tights ball up in the air from behind her back. She was doing