Ways to Be Me, page 8
Tally leans back in her chair and folds her arms.
“What about telling us how impressive we’ve been?” she mutters. “If it wasn’t for the brilliant lights, then Carrie couldn’t have performed like that – Miss Balogun literally just said that it was because of the lights but there’s no praise for us, is there?”
Miles turns on the main lights and starts making notes on his already detailed lighting plan. “Why does it matter to you so much? Who cares?”
Tally’s head snaps round so fast that it hurts her neck. “I care! And so should you. How can you think it’s OK for us to be stuck here getting no attention or thanks while everyone else gets to be in the spotlight?” She exhales loudly. “The spotlight that I’m over here making, by the way.”
Miles shrugs. “I like being over here,” he tells her. “It’s quite nice staying out of the drama.”
“But don’t you just want to be like everyone else?” Tally asks. “Aren’t you sick of being different and alone all the time?”
Miles stares at the space to the side of Tally’s head, his face screwed up as he contemplates her words.
“I like being on my own,” he says eventually. “And I don’t think I’m any more different than everybody else is. We’re all different, aren’t we? It’s not a thing.”
Tally doesn’t know what to say to him. Because yes, of course it’s a thing. Being different is definitely a thing, and she doesn’t know how Miles can be so casual about it.
Or not know just how different he is to the rest of them.
“And how can I be like everybody else, when nobody is the same?” he continues. “I’m just me. That’s the only person I know how to be.”
Tally picks up her script and opens it again to Little Red’s big speech. She’s almost got the whole thing completely memorized, but there’s just one part that she’s struggling to get right. It comes just after the wolf has told Little Red that it’s hard when everyone thinks you’re a fierce, bad monster, but really you just feel scared and lonely. When Luke reads the lines it takes every bit of control that Tally possesses not to snort – as if a boy like him would ever know how it feels to be scared and alone.
“Let’s work on the dance scene now!” calls Miss Balogun. “Lucy – we’ll have you at the back of the stage to begin with and then you can dance forwards to join the others. Tech crew – let’s go!”
Miles starts the music and the hall is filled with the sound of several pairs of year six feet stomping about on the wooden floor.
“You can just be you, you know?” Miles’s voice is quiet, but Tally can still hear him. “It’s OK. You don’t have to be like anyone else.”
She looks up from the script, the stamping feet and the loud music making it feel like they’re in their own little bubble where nobody can hear them. And maybe it’s this that makes her mouth open and words that she’s only ever thought about come trickling out.
“I don’t know if I want to be me,” she tells him. “Not when nothing ever works out for me and I never get any good luck. I think it might all be a bit easier if I wasn’t me.”
And then she returns to the script, already regretting telling him anything. He can’t possibly understand what it feels like to be her – constantly working to figure out how she’s supposed to be behaving and what she’s supposed to be saying. If he knew, then there’s no way he’d ever say something as stupid as it’s OK to be her.
Or that it’s OK to be different.
CHAPTER 13
“So if you’re all ready, I want you to get into your science groups and begin the experiment.” Miss Balogun claps her hands and gives the class a nod. “Let’s try to keep the noise to a minimum, yes?”
Layla stands up and starts walking towards the back of the room. Tally waits a moment, reluctant to follow. Miss Balogun has swapped the science groups around, and now she and Layla have to work with Luke and Ameet. Things have been a bit better at school since Tally started playing Infection every break and lunchtime but she doesn’t trust Luke and sometimes she sees him glaring at her, even though she hasn’t done anything wrong.
“Come on, Tally!” calls Layla. “We’ve got to decide what shape to make the plasticine.”
Tally swallows a sigh and plasters a smile on to her face. She can do this. She’s good at science, and maybe if she shows Luke how much she knows then he’ll stop being so unfriendly.
“Hey, Ameet – catch!”
As Tally approaches the table, she sees Luke throw their ball of plasticine across the table towards his friend. Ameet laughs as the sticky lump flies through the air, and when he picks it up, Tally can see that it’s covered in fluff and dirt from the classroom floor.
“Stop messing about,” says Layla. “We’re supposed to be investigating what shape has the most water resistance.”
The boys ignore her.
“Look what I’ve made!” crows Ameet, brandishing the plasticine in front of them. “It’s a chicken!”
“That’s not a chicken,” scoffs Luke, grabbing it off him. “But look at what I can make.”
Tally watches as he pulls and kneads and manipulates the disgusting piece of plasticine with his fingers. She makes a silent promise not to touch it. She usually likes squishy things – she’s got an entire collection of squishy toys at home – but this piece of grotty plasticine is making her tummy flip over.
“Ta-dah!” Luke holds up his creation. It’s got a head, a body, two arms and two legs, but that’s where any resemblance to a person ends. He’s added two tiny blob eyes and pressed his fingernail deep into the face to make a slash-like smile. The whole thing looks horrific and freakish. “Guess who it is!”
Ameet starts laughing again. “The creature from the black lagoon? The stuff of my nightmares? Mate – that is so weird!”
“You’re close,” Luke tells him, shooting Tally a quick glance. “And it’s definitely weird. Weirdo Adams, in fact.”
He tosses the awful model to Tally, whose hands reach out to catch it before her brain can tell them not to. “There you go. A little present for you.”
“Luke!” snaps Layla. “If you don’t stop being so stupid then I’m telling Miss Balogun. Can we please just get on with the investigation?”
Luke shrugs. “Sure. I was only having a laugh.”
Ameet steps forwards and picks up a plastic container. “I’ll go and get some water,” he tells them. “You guys start making the first shape, yeah? Then we can time how long it takes to sink.”
“We have to write down the method first,” Layla tells them. “We should do that before we get the water.”
The three of them sit down and open their science books. Tally stays where she is, staring down at the grotesque model in her hands.
“Come on, Tally,” says Layla, looking up at her. “If we don’t finish the task then we’ll have to stay in at lunchtime.”
“Yeah,” agrees Ameet. “Hurry up.”
Tally carefully places the plasticine doll on the table and sits next to Layla.
“It was just a daft joke,” her best friend whispers, as Luke picks it up. “Just ignore him.”
Tally nods as he squishes the plasticine Tally between his fingers. She keeps nodding as her body crumples and squidges and disappears, becoming a normal lump of plasticine again, just like all the others.
She hated that gross, dirty plasticine figure and she thinks she might hate Luke. So why does it make her head buzz and her tummy swirl to see him destroying it?
And why does it feel like it’s her that Luke is squishing into a different shape?
“I’m so tired,” moans Lucy as they walk down the stairs, the science lesson thankfully over. “My dance class went late last night, and I’ve got to go to another one after school.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t bother going,” says one of the other year six girls in a sneaky voice. “You can’t be very good if you have to practise so much!”
Her friends start sniggering. “Yeah – maybe you should start a new hobby. Like reading or baking or something that doesn’t involve having good coordination skills!”
Ayesha grabs hold of Lucy’s arm protectively.
“Don’t listen to them,” she says, shooting a glare at the girl who spoke first. “They’re just trying to upset you.”
Lucy pulls her arm away and tosses her long hair over one shoulder. “Like I’d let any of them bother me!” she snorts. “They’re just jealous that I get to have a dance solo in the production and they’re stuck in the chorus.”
Tally watches as the girls wrinkle up their noses and stalk ahead, muttering furiously to each other. Lucy has never been afraid to say what she thinks, but nobody ever tells her that she shouldn’t say what’s on her mind.
Lucy makes being in year six look easy.
“Are you playing Infection today?” asks Ayesha as they all head outside. The weather is warmer now, and even though it’s only the start of May, there’s a hint of summer in the air.
Tally nods. She seems to be doing quite a lot of nodding these days, but it’s an easy way to make people pleased with her, and she’s started to realize that a lot of the time they don’t actually want to hear what she has to say. They just want to know that she agrees with what they’re saying.
“Are you all right?” asks Layla, as Lucy and Ayesha run off to the far side of the playground. “I know Luke upset you with that stupid plasticine doll, but he was just being silly. Don’t let it get to you.”
Tally gives a little laugh. “I’m not bothered,” she tells Layla. “As if I’d let someone like him upset me! He’s just jealous of me.”
Layla gives Tally a confused look, but before she can speak, Lucy is racing back towards them. “Ayesha is Infected!” she screams. “Run!”
The girls scatter across the playground. Tally starts to run but then she remembers the look on Luke’s face when he squished up the fake Tally model and her legs stop working. She can’t just stand still and wait to be infected, though. She needs to find somewhere safe to go, but that’s the problem with school.
Nowhere is safe for a girl like her.
“Are you doing OK there?” asks a voice, and when Tally looks up she sees Mrs Bernard, one of the lunchtime supervisors, standing next to her. “You look like you could do with a bit of peace and quiet.”
Tally stares at her. Some peace and quiet would be great, and she knows that Mrs Bernard is quite new and everything but it’s hard to see how she hasn’t noticed the extreme lack of both those things in the school playground.
“Your name is Tally, isn’t it?” asks Mrs Bernard. “I’ve seen you racing around the playground with all your friends. You’re a very fast runner.”
Tally shrugs. They aren’t all her friends and she’s only fast because she has to be, but she can’t say either of those things to this lady. She’d never get it.
“I was wondering if you might like to join Koala Club?” Mrs Bernard smiles at Tally. “I’ve been given the job of running the school library, but it’s too much for just one person. I’ve already got a couple of kids helping me out and I thought you might be interested.”
“What’s Koala Club?” Tally moves closer to the wall as Ameet screeches past with Ayesha chasing right behind him. Mrs Bernard steps to the side, keeping her distance from Tally but blocking her from Ayesha’s view.
“It’s a club for anyone who needs a little alone time,” she explains. “Just like koalas. They would rather hug a tree than hug another person, which I think is a bit like hugging a book.”
Tally frowns. Mrs Bernard seems like she’s a nice person, but everything she’s saying is confusing.
“What I mean is that, sometimes, people need a bit of time-out,” says the lunchtime supervisor, seeing the look on Tally’s face. “And a library full of books is the perfect place to escape to. You can either help out by putting the returned books back on to the shelves or just curl up in the armchair and lose yourself in a story. Miles is in there today, but I’m sure he’d be happy to share the space with you, especially if you’re both being quiet.”
Tally shakes her head. Mrs Bernard has made Koala Club sound quite wonderful, but she can’t join. Not if it’s for kids like no-friends loner Miles. It’s all right for him – he doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him and he doesn’t even want to have friends – but it’s different for Tally.
She’s trying to fit in, not stand out.
Which means that she can’t escape to the peaceful library. She has to do her hiding in plain sight.
The First Five Words You See
Describe Who You Are!
I did this word search after my rubbish day at school. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that the first five words that leapt out at me were: freak, gross, stubborn, worried and weird. I also saw: kind, amazing, caring and musical but you’re only allowed five so they don’t count.
CHAPTER 14
It’s Saturday morning, and that means one thing in the Adams household. Chores time. It’s been this way as long as Tally can remember, and only a major disaster or emergency (like an unexpected visit from Auntie Tish) can change the schedule. The good news on this particular Saturday is that Auntie Tish is nowhere to be seen. The bad news is that means the chores still have to happen.
Tally eats her croissant slowly, enjoying the buttery taste and the sensation of the flaky pastry on her tongue. Her main task this morning is to tidy her room, which is a job she normally hates. Today though, she’s kind of looking forward to it. School has been completely exhausting this week – she had no idea how much effort it would be, constantly trying to be good – and even though nobody has called her “weird” (except Luke, and he doesn’t count as a proper person) and she’s been included in everything, she still feels drained and empty. Plus the horrible year six tests are next week, and she’s dreading Monday morning.
Which is why tidying her room doesn’t seem so bad. She’s been thinking that she should organize all of her squishies for a while and the pile of cuddly toys on her bed is a total mess. Poor Billy is somewhere at the bottom and she fell asleep last night before she could find him. Maybe if she plays some Taylor Swift and gets her room in order, her head might feel a bit less cluttered too. She can hang out in her bedroom with nobody to bother her and just enjoy making it her own, safe space.
The thought makes a warm, happy feeling spread through her body.
Standing up, she heads across the kitchen and puts her plate on the countertop next to the empty dishwasher. She could put it inside, but stacking the dishwasher is one of Nell’s chores and Tally doesn’t see why she should make it any easier for her.
“Nice croissant?” asks Mum, walking into the room with a huge pile of laundry in her arms.
Tally nods and Mum beams. “Excellent! That should give you the energy to go and tidy your room, then.”
The warm, happy feeling evaporates, like a single drop of rain on a scorching pavement. Tally can feel her heart starting to race and her fingers clench tightly as she tries to stop the feeling of dread from creeping any further up her body.
She tries. She really does try. And she might have even succeeded if Mum hadn’t made it even worse.
“Off you go!” she says brightly. “The sooner you get it done, the sooner you can enjoy the weekend.”
Tally stares at her. She’d been starting to think that tidying her room could be relaxing and enjoyable, but Mum has just made it super-clear that it’s an undesirable chore that should be done as quickly as possible.
That’s not the worst part, though. The worst part is the being told.
“I was just about to go and do it.” The words push themselves out through Tally’s gritted teeth.
“Oh…” Mum pauses for a second. “Well then, that’s great! Once you’ve finished, I thought we could bake some cupcakes together. I’ve found a delicious-looking recipe that we haven’t tried yet.”
She just doesn’t get it.
“I can’t do it now!” mutters Tally. “Not when you’ve ruined it.”
Mum stares back at her in astonishment. “What on earth have I ruined? You said that you were going to go and tidy your room, and I said that was great and we could bake cupcakes when you were done. How does any of that ruin anything?”
Tally stamps her foot in frustration. “And now you’re lying!” she cries. “You told me to go and tidy my room first before you even knew what I was planning to do. And I was looking forward to it and I was going to sort all my stuff out, but now you’ve spoilt everything and I hate you.”
Mum shakes her head and takes a deep breath. “It makes me feel very sad when you say things like that to me, Tally. I’m sorry that you hate me right now, but I love you. We can talk about this later when you’re not feeling so angry.”
She’s using the slow voice that she always uses when she’s trying to do the things they told her to do on that stupid good parenting course and it’s. Just. Too. Much.
“Just shut up!” screeches Tally. “You’re always making it about you, but it’s not. I’m allowed to hate you if I want to – you can’t stop me.”
She spins on her heel and storms out of the room before Mum can see the tears that are threatening to spill from her eyes.
“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” she hisses as she pounds up the stairs. “I hate you all and I hate everything and I’m not angry.”
Slamming her bedroom door as loudly as she can, Tally throws herself on to her bed and curls up into the tiniest shape possible. Her heart feels like it’s about to thud itself out of her chest and her legs are tingling, as if she needs to run. Reaching up, she can feel beads of sweat forming on her forehead and under her arms, and inside her mouth has suddenly gone as dry as the desert.
How can Mum say that to her? How could someone who is supposed to love her make her feel this way? Doesn’t she understand how terrifying it is to be told that she’s made Mum feel sad; to have that much power? It’s like being on a rollercoaster, only not the kind that Tally loves. This rollercoaster keeps your body still but sends your feelings on a wild and unpredictable ride. One moment Tally was feeling unhappy because Mum had upset her, and the next it was like a double switchback and suddenly it was all her fault and Mum was the one feeling miserable. But she’s not angry – that’s totally wrong.
