During The X Factor (One Direction)

Chapter 12 - Moved On

“I saw Anne in the supermarket the other day…” my mum tells me, trying to make it sound like general conversation, even though I haven’t seen Anne or Gemma for over three weeks.

“Really?” I ask with mock interest.

We’re in mum’s bakery. She’s kneading bread whilst I stand by the oven, trying to not burn the cupcakes, like I always do.

“Yeah. She was asking how you were doing.” Mum tells me.

Okay, perhaps I’m a little more interested now…but I try to not show it. “Oh? What was she asking?”

Before mum could answer, my phone started buzzing.

 “It’s from Lola,” I tell mum, grinning at the message from my new friend.

I met Lola one dinnertime at college. I had been ‘ill’ for three days, so I went back into college on the Thursday. All morning, I was panicking.

I usually sit with Lizzy at dinner, who’s always with Beth and her friends, and Jason and his gang are usually lurking nearby. However, on Thursday, I had been ignoring them all day. I walked half way across campus, just so I could enter the dinner hall from a different direction and not have to sit with them.

It’s not that I don’t like them, they’re lovely people, the only problem is they’d start asking me about the weekend…and I’m not planning on talking about that for a while. 

They always sit at one end of the dining hall, so I ventured around to the complete opposite side to find a place to sit. Every table was full…except for one in the far corner, at which was sat a girl I recognised from Graphics.

“Is anyone sitting here?” I had asked her timidly, trying to appear friendly at the same time. She shook her head and gestured for me to sit down.

“It’s Charlie, isn’t it?” she asked after swallowing a mouthful of sandwich.

“Er, no, it’s Chaz…” I reply. He was right. You’re invisible without him. Just go back to the others, they don’t mind letting you hang around with them.

“Oh! Sorry…I knew it began with a C!” she laughed. “I’m Lola.” She seemed really friendly, so I wasn’t going to pass on the chance of being friends with her.

Then a boy named Gregg joined us at the table, greeting me as ‘that girl from Geography’. I was a little embarrassed by the fact that I couldn’t remember him or his name, but Lola introduced us anyway.

“Yeah…you’re Chaz, right?” he asked me.

Lola burst into the conversation, “Hey, you’re making me look bad, Gregg!”

He laughed at her, “But you’re never right!” Gregg joked, making Lola blush.

I loved hanging out with them that afternoon, they were so friendly and funny, and they made me feel so welcome at their little wooden table in the corner. They invited me to sit with them tomorrow, so I wasn’t going to say no. Anyway, I had made a kind of promise with myself to try and make new friends. After all, I’m at college now, nobody really knows me here. I can be the real Chaz here.

I started in my Fine Art class, which was after dinner that day. There’s a girl called Elvie, who never ever talks. Somehow, I gathered the courage to go and talk to her.

“Hi, Elvie!” I said, sliding into the chair next to hers.

“Oh…um…hi, Charity…” she said, hiding her face behind her long and sleek black hair.

“Call me Chaz, everyone else does.” I say to her, smiling as widely as I physically could. I just hope I look friendly, and not like a scary large-faced clown.

Thankfully, she smiled back at me. I wasn’t sure what to say next, though, as I pulled my sketchbook from my bag. I dropped my book onto the table, and saw that she had hers open already, doodling away.

“Wow!” I breathed. I caught a glimpse of pages full of black and white sketches, beautifully detailed in fine black ink.

Elvie’s face flared scarlet and she hid her sketchbook with her hands.

“Don’t be embarrassed! They’re brilliant!” I say, with complete honesty. I hate that feeling of jealousy you get when you find someone is better than you at something you thought you were good at. However, I don’t feel that way looking at Elvie.

Obviously, she is a gazillion miles better than me at art, but I’m not the smallest bit jealous, I’m actually really happy for her. And I have no idea why. It’s not the fact that she’s amazing at drawing that makes me happy, I just can’t put my finger on the real reason…

“Thanks,” she mumbles to me, smiling behind her curtain of dark hair.

I keep talking to her throughout the lesson, and she slowly gains some confidence, laughing along with me as I tell her the worst jokes ever invented.

“What do termites eat for breakfast?” I stop to let her reply, but she just looks at me and laughs, shaking her head, “Oakmeal! You know, oak, like the tree!” I exclaim, causing her to giggle like a maniac behind her hand.

“You know, jokes aren’t half as funny when you have to explain them,” she laughs, trying to make a fool of me.

“Ah well,” I shrug, “It’s like those jokes in a cracker at Christmas!”

“That should totally be your job when you’re older! Writing cracker jokes!” she had teased, and I simply laughed at her.

The next day, I invited her over to sit with me, Lola and Gregg at dinner, and she accepted immediately. It became a regular thing between us. The four of us would meet up at our usual table and talk for ages, as if we’ve been friends since we were little.

I don’t even think we’ve known each other a month yet, but I’m so glad I met them. These guys are my brilliant, my new friends.

Anyway, back in the kitchen of mum’s bakery, mum doesn’t look as thrilled as I do about my text from Lola.

“Is that one of your new friends?” she asked, and I had a sudden flashback from Year Seven. I threw the thought from my mind, and then tell mum that Lola wants to go to the cinema at the weekend.

“Oh.” My mum replied. I might have imagined it, but instead of being happy that I’m actually arranging to go out somewhere with my friends, she looks more…disappointed.

“Well…it’s nice to see you’re happy, dear.” She adds, before turning back to the dough.

I throw away that thought too, and quickly type a message back to Lola, telling her to see if Elvie’s going too –there’s no way I’m going if it’s just her and Gregg!

Just as I’m putting my phone away and am about to check the cakes (because I actually remembered them!), I hear the front door of the bakery open and then close with a soft clang.

“Oooh, customers!” mum says, wiping her white-with-flour hands on her stripy rainbow apron.

I laugh at her, and pull the scorching hot tray, laden with delicious cakes, from the over. I can hear mum in the shop now, but the customer speaks first.

“Hi, Rose, just thought I’d pop in…”

I almost drop the tray, but instead it falls onto the countertop with a loud clatter.

“Oh, hi, Anne! Lovely to see you again!” mum says, sounding genuinely pleased.

I panic. I can hear small snippets of their conversation, and I’m certain I hear them talking about me.

“Bye, mum!” I shout through the small gap in the door, quickly throwing my coat over my apron and shooting out the back door before mum could say anything.

Great. I’ve had a good couple of weeks of not thinking about him at all, and I even refused to watch the show at the weekends. But it seems that I can’t escape him, and just the sound of his mum’s voice brings all these memories flying back at me.

I walk home in the rain, the stars on my white trainers turning into a mess of black and grey smudges, trailing into the puddles.