Just Janet

chapter 2

What I go to school for

Busted

A friend with the same name hang up, that's a friend for life. The irony of it, my mum says that exact same thing every time I moan or complain about the embarrassment that is my name. Every kid goes threw a stage of hating there name but my stage has yet to end.

“Your special Janet, that's why I chose it”

“But why Janet?” I protest

“Coz I did”

“But why?

“Because I liked the name, its a pretty name for a pretty girl”

blimey mum now your just humouring me.

I mean for gods sake who names a baby Janet. Sheila Dawson does, that's who. My mum has two sisters Pamela and Margaret. I should have seen it coming really. That explains everything. Margaret just sounds like a queen from Tudor times and Pamela, it has to be Anderson after or not at all. She thought she would saddle me with the woes of a plain out fashioned and out dated name. Jamie and Ebony totally escaped that one. Maybe I should change my name by deed poll, then again what's the point mum would still call me Janet!

Since discovering we both have issues with out first name me and Genie were in separable. She was the middle child of 5 siblings but she did not suffer with MCS at all, maybe she would grow up to develop the syndrome? Her mum and dad were married so she never carried any baggage or hang ups in her life. She could sympathise with anyone in any situation like she was in the same boat as them. Your mum could have died and she would comfort and talk to you like she was living it with you. You felt at ease and relaxed when ever round her. She's the only person I know to have such a lovely and amazing unique characteristic like that.

Maybe that's why we clicked instantly. This tiny blonde haired stunning enchanting blue eyed girl caught my attention and my friendship within minutes. Being in the same form room as each other meant every morning for half an hour we had form time. This was the time to take the register and for Miss Tott to tell the class any notices.

We took this as time to catch up, chat and gossip. It was usually who we fancied at the time or by checking who other friends liked by looking at our homework diary's. They became not only books to write homework in but to write who we thought was buff or who hit one two many branches on the way down.

Genie was always getting the latest clothes and school must haves. When the boy style loafer came in she was the first to have them and they were gorgeous. What made her different was she didn't flaunt it, she didn't know what she had to boast about. It was just the norm to her. That made her very enduring. I spent half the time telling her how much I liked her new things. While she would change the subject to have I asked a boy out in another class yet? Her family were not minted she was simply well clothed but grounded at the same time.

I always looked forward to one of the mums at MP Mailing leaving a black bag on our door with there family's hand me downs. Me an Ebony would always rifle threw it before mum could. Everything smelling so foreign, just like someone else's detergent. There was once a short black skirt in there that I just loved, it was so girly. I had never worn anything like it before, I was always in jogging bottoms trainers and a denim jacket. Mum on the other hand had other ideas. She insisted it was too short, I'm telling you it wasn't. I had never had a skirt and it was my new favourite item of clothing. I wore it to mums dislike endlessly until it needed washing. I threw it in the washing basket already planning the next Friday night I was going to wear it down little Italy. To my utter shock that cute little black number was never to see the light of day again. She swears down she never done anything with it, I never let that go. I went on and on asking where it was! The very hungry washing basket had it! Of course it did! I even secretly looked threw her chest of draws thinking she had hid it. If she's any thing like me then the first place I should have started searching was the bottom of a skip.