The Weird Friends Fan Club Read online

  Then, “Ohhhh good timing! Yes please, tea for me!”

  Grace looked at me quizzically.

  “My mum’s home,” I said.

  GRACE

  I had a surprisingly lovely time at Erin’s house (flat). Abode. Let’s go with that.

  I think I’ve been on an emotional rollercoaster lately and it’s difficult to get down in my diary my thoughts and feelings about what’s been happening. (Even for me – a brilliant writer!) So that’s some indication of how much of a rollercoaster it’s been.

  Anyway.

  Erin has really stepped up as a friend and done her best to make it up to me after her deception. (Really it just comes down to character weakness and reluctance to tell the truth) but she is really sorry and has gone out of her way to show me so. And not everyone can be as brilliant as me, and I fully admit that she was somewhat provoked.

  Anyway.

  I had a lovely time and met her and her mum and her sister and found them all very pleasant.

  Weirdly, even though they are so different to my family, Erin’s mother sort of reminded me of my dad. In that she’s very forthright and tells it like it is. But kinder. I think I find much comfort in the consistency of people that tell it straight.

  Once Erin’s mother was home, everyone decided to have tea and biscuits (gingerbread men as it turned out – homemade). I was wracking my brains, but I don’t think I’ve ever done any home baking. Maybe when I was very little with Mona? And obviously at school, but it’s not quite the same.

  We sat in the living room. So they all squeezed on to their sofa and let me sit on the only other chair in that room, in front of the fridge. (They have lovely guest etiquette, which I appreciated.)

  And as I say, it was surprisingly lovely.

  I was giving such long interesting answers to their questions that at one point, Erin’s mother, Jo, said, “It’s not an interview, love.” And everyone laughed, but kindly.

  At one point, Kiera told Jo about how she was disappointed with a mark she’d received on a maths test at school, and she said something along the lines of, “What’s the point of even trying?”

  And Jo responded, “It’s not failure, it’s feedback Kiera.” (Which I really liked.) “Now you know what you have to do differently next time.”

  I was struck by what a brilliant and extraordinary family motto this was.

  It was very similar in some ways to my family’s motto, “Second place is first loser,” but a much more positive spin on the same idea. I really liked this reframe.

  Then Erin and I went and hung out in her bedroom and chatted and stuff.

  “So, what’s happening with the boy?” I asked her.

  “Nick? Oh, nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Beyond liking a couple of photos, no.”

  “That’s a shame,” I commented. “You seem a bit more confident these days; I thought maybe you would go for it.”

  “Well, I thought maybe something would happen at your party…” Erin didn’t need to finish that sentence.

  “Well … stuff did happen at that party,” I quipped. “I am so sorry by the way, again, for chucking you out. I’m not surprised you lied to me about the deadline, and I cringe every time I remember it.”

  “It is honestly fine,” I replied. “I regret lying to you so much. I’m really sorry too.”

  “And I’m actually glad you hit Theo. He’s horrible. Have you made up with Nicole?”

  “No, she hates me.”

  “I don’t think she does. I think she was just scared you’d leave her behind.”

  “How or why?” Erin asked me, a little incredulous. “She was always the cool one. I’m a nobody.”

  “You are not a nobody,” I chastised her. “You’re actually much more interesting than my initial impression of you.”

  “None taken,” Erin grinned.

  “And you’ve changed even since I’ve known you, so it must be weird for Nicole.”

  “What do you mean I’ve changed?”

  “In a good way.” I waved my hand vaguely. “You stuck up for yourself with us. Brave. You used to not even make eye contact. Now you beat people up.” We both paused to laugh, then I continued. “And maybe Nicole liked that you were so reliant on her. I don’t know. I don’t really know the situation.”

  “I just don’t fit anywhere,” said Erin sadly. “I didn’t fit with your friends because I’m not cool, and I said on fleek. I don’t always fit brilliantly with Nicole because I’m not cool, and don’t know enough about music. And, also, I said on fleek again. To tell her I’d said it the first time,” she explained.

  “I mean, it sounds like you just need to stop saying on fleek,” I joked.

  “Right?” Erin grinned. “Well, at least you get me.”

  “You know what though?” I said. “Why should you have to keep trying to fit in with everyone? All this time I’ve been giving you makeovers and stuff. Why does no one meet you half way? And me. I mean, granted, I have much more natural charisma, but even I sometimes grow tired of the cool game.”

  “So, you want to form a new gang?” Erin suggested. “An uncool one, where we make the rules?”

  “Maybe.” I paused.

  “OK, I can get behind that,” said Erin. “We’ll form a new gang, with all the best bits of both of ours. We’ll keep your confidence and wit,” she gestured to me.

  “Thank you,” I smiled.

  “And my ability to be genuine, and not bully people that are different.”

  “Ouch. But fair,” I said. I paused in thought again. “God. Isn’t it so weird that we’re even friends?”

  “So weird,” agreed Erin instantly. “I really like you. But I sometimes don’t fully understand why.”

  “I really like you too,” I beamed. “But you know, ditto.”

  “OK,” said Erin. “Well. Maybe it’s time to tell Mrs Wilson that we think we’re ready for her to broaden out the Charlotte Brontë Fan Club? Tell her we’d like to invite new members? We can make our writing group the civilisation we’ve always wanted to live in.”

  “Ooooh. Interesting!” I exclaimed. “I like this! Though… Don’t want to be negative, just trouble-shooting here… No one seems to really like Charlotte Brontë apart from us. We may struggle to recruit new members.”

  “But isn’t that the point? We’ll be picky,” said Erin.

  “Also, again, don’t mean to nitpick,” I continued. “We haven’t really covered much Charlotte Brontë in the writing group. It’s all kinds of other writing exercises. It’s like a false advertising title.”

  “We are fans of hers, though. It’s not totally false,” protested Erin.

  “We’re fans of lots of stuff,” I said.

  “Are we? She’s like the main thing we have in common,” argued Erin.

  “I can name loads of other things we’re both fans of,” I began, then sort of paused. “Um… Well… Each other.”

  We both laughed.

  “The Weird Friends Fan Club,” Erin grinned.

  “I actually kind of like that,” I said.

  “Me too.”

  “And it will actually tell people what it is. A place where people you wouldn’t expect to be friends can hang out with each other.”

  “And be fans of stuff. And do writing exercises,” said Erin, grinning. “Also sounds a bit like the other members will be our fans.”

  “Yeah. It works. I’m not changing it,” I grinned back.

  “And some of our friends might want to join. But they have to be nice to us, or they’re out,” said Erin.

  “Yes, we’ll have a code of conduct,” I agreed. “I’m inviting Nick Brooker to join.” I tried a cheeky wink.

  “Did you just wink at me?”

  I decided to brush over it. “And I’ll invite Chloe. She could really benefit actually, get her grades up. I’m not saying she’s stupid or anything. But she can’t even feed her hamster properly. Have you seen how fat it is on Instagram?”


  Sunday 31st March

  ERIN

  I was totally waiting for Mum to hate Grace (like she hated Nic for having a mum that played tennis and being richer than us).

  I mean, come on. Grace is a full-on landed gentry snob compared to Nicole. (In my mum’s eyes – I like her now – obviously.)

  After Grace left, I kept thinking, here come the comments. Here we go … but nothing. She didn’t even remark on how Grace made water go everywhere when she used our tiny, hand-sized sink in the bathroom. (I had warned her about that, but everyone forgets the first time they use it.)

  But anyway, eventually I had to go and probe Mum for it. “So, what did you think of Grace?” I stood in the doorway of the kitchen-lounge while Mum chopped carrots to make us a hearty soup.

  “Hmm? Oh yes. Lovely girl! Bit intense.”

  “Bit intense?” I queried. “Is that a euphemism for…?”

  “Being intense.” Mum looked up at me briefly then went back to what she was doing.

  “What, seriously? You actually think she’s lovely? You don’t hate her like you hate Nicole?”

  “Oh, for the last time, Erin, I don’t hate Nicole!” Mum replied tiredly. “I just don’t know that she offers much … challenge for you.” Rude.

  “What about Nic’s mum?” I pushed it.

  Mum looked up at me mutely for a second, then changed the subject and said, “Grace seems like a lovely, funny, interesting, bright and vivacious person. She cares about good grades – which some other people could benefit from…” This was directed at Kiera as she lay on the sofa watching Netflix. “But she also seemed a bit intense and like she might be happier if she relaxed a bit and put less pressure on herself.”

  And that was that. My expectations were confounded.

  And of course Kiera liked her too. Later, on Saturday night, when we were lying in bed, she commented about how interesting (if a tiny bit strange) Grace is, and even had the nerve to gloat about how right she’d been about everything.

  What is it with my family suddenly seeing the inherent good in people all of a sudden?

  GRACE

  And yet another brilliant poem by Grace Abella:

  Whatever the weather

  The wind can howl

  The rain can fall

  The wolves can prowl

  The songbirds call

  And when they call

  They call to me

  And tell me the stories

  Of how life can be

  I watch the songbirds

  Stick together

  Flying together

  Whatever the weather

  And I know if I

  Should cross the sea

  We’ll be safe together

  Come wind, rain or thundery

  #naileditagain

  I am so good at everything. #practisingselflove

  And I am in business mode.

  Today, at another wonderful lunch with Daddy, I announced, “Daddy. I think we need to have a little chat about the possible updating of our family motto.”

  Needless to say, #negotiatedthehelloutofthat #whataminotgoodat

  And Daddy actually really likes “It’s not failure, it’s feedback”, so that’s a result.

  And I have made the executive decision to re-gift the makeup present to Erin. It was her sorry present after all, and I can’t take back hers and we are friends again now.

  #businessmode #unstoppable

  ERIN

  I have this weird feeling in my stomach as I’m going to bed on Sunday night. It’s like butterflies, but without the usual sense of dread that goes with it… I think I’m… I think I’m looking forward to school on Monday.

  Eurgh. My weird transition to becoming Grace is complete. Haha, it’s not that bad.

  #notthatbad #iloveschoolnowbabes #apartfromnicoleisstillnotspeakingtome

  Monday 1st April

  GRACE

  OMG Chloe’s hamster had babies! That’s why it’s got so fat! Actually very exciting. Those tiny babies looked sooo cute on Instagram.

  #whatawonderfulworld #miracleoflifebabes

  ERIN

  There was an envelope on my desk when I arrived in the form room before registration. Nic was looking at me, but trying to pretend she wasn’t.

  I picked it up. “Is this from you?” I asked her. She nodded sheepishly.

  “I have got you something, to say sorry. And I would like us to be friends again,” she said. I stared at her incredulous. Nic continued, “I’m not good at stuff like this – look, my hands are shaking.” She held up a hand. “Open it!” She tried a smile.

  “Is – are you… Look, is this an April Fools’ trick?” I blurted out suspiciously.

  “What?! No! God, of course not! Open it.”

  I picked up the envelope doubtfully.

  “And I open it, and it’s anthrax and then you go ‘PSYCH!’ and laugh at me,” I added.

  Nic chuckled, “Well I wouldn’t say psych because –” she caught herself before insulting me, “I would say ‘April Fools’, but I’m not going to. Please open it.”

  I opened it. It was cute card that said “Sorry” on it, and inside was a ticket to see The Crumples. Nic had written:

  Dear Erin,

  I’m really sorry that I didn’t handle you leaving me in English better. I shouldn’t have teased you. I will try not to call you swot any more (sometimes they just slip out, winky face).

  I hope we can be best friends again.

  Lots of love,

  Nic XXX

  PS — WANNA SEE THE CRUMPLES WITH ME?! O MAH GAAAAWWWWD!!!!!!!!!

  I smiled, then frowned. “Are you sure this isn’t a trick?”

  “Yes! Oh my god, woman! I’m so bad at saying sorry, don’t drag it out!” She stood up and hugged me. I hugged her back. “I love you, you doofus.” We pulled apart and she looked at me. “You don’t have to say it back, whatever.”

  I laughed, genuinely. “You know I do,” I said. “I sometimes find it hard to say when—”

  “I know. I’ll get better at listening. And stop interrupting. I get it. I get what I just did there.”

  “Cool,” I beamed.

  “Aw, I think I might cry.” Liz had been watching us and looked moved.

  “Ha, hashtag better than EastEnders,” I joked.

  “Well, let’s not go nuts,” said Liz, recovering from her emotion.

  Grace came over then. “Oh, did you guys make up?”

  I nodded.

  “That’s great. You ready?”

  “Yes.” Then another thought occurred to me. “Oh hey, now we’re friends again, Nic, Liz, do you want to join our new writing group?”

  “Is this an April Fools?” said Nic.

  GRACE

  “Guys, everyone, can I have your attention please?”

  My girl squad looked up to see me standing at their desks, flanked by Erin, Nicole and Liz.

  “Uh-oh,” said Brianna.

  “Oh god, now what?” said Sylvie.

  “Cute hamster babies,” Liz told Chloe.

  “Thanks!”

  “Guys, listen.” I thought I’d better take charge of the situation. “This is Erin and she is my friend.”

  “Urgghhh.” Sylvie rolled her eyes and groaned. “Not again. We’ve been here before. She lied to you, remember?”

  “Talk about déjà vu,” agreed Brianna.

  “Yes,” I agreed. “But now we are friends again. And I want all my friends to get along. And this is Nicole and Liz, and they’re fine too.”

  “Nope, nope, nope,” said Sylvie.

  “Is this an April Fools?” demanded Brianna.

  “Oh my god, is it?” Sylvie seized on this. “It’s actually very good if so.”

  “No,” I said.

  “It so is! We’re not falling for it!” Brianna grinned.

  “They’d have to be friends to agree to go along with that,” Chloe pointed out perceptively.

  “Urgghhh,” said Sylvie. �
��It’s really not a trick?”

  I shook my head.

  “Really, really?”

  “No.”

  We maybe could have picked a better day to do all this.

  “You love her, you hate her. I mean, my god, just pick something already,” snapped Brianna.

  “I have.” I said this with as much gravitas as possible (which is a lot, because this is me we’re talking about) so they’d know I was serious.

  “All right, fine, whatever.” Sylvie looked bored and swung back on her chair slightly.

  “And furthermore,” I continued grandly, “I can now announce, that our exclusive new writers group, the Weird Friends Fan Club, is accepting new members. So, if any of you would like to join, you would be welcome. We meet on Monday lunchtimes.”

  #nailedit #whataminotgoodatbabes

  EMAIL

  16.42

  FROM: MRS WILSON

  TO: WEIRD FRIENDS FAN CLUB

  SUBJECT: IT’S OFFICIAL!!

  Dear Grace and Erin,

  Further to our conversation at lunchtime, I’m delighted you’re bringing new, passionate writers into the group! And I’m delighted we could find a day to settle on that didn’t clash with netball.

  The Sixth Form common room (corner) is now booked for your use every Monday for the first half of lunch. I won’t always be able to make it, but will pop in when I can, and am always on hand via email for advice etc.

  A couple of tips for you both:

  – I suggest you take it in turns to chair the meetings. You both know what to do now.

  – Focus on keeping order; sometimes with bigger groups the subject gets away and it can be hard to keep the discussion on track.

  Have fun!

  I’m SO pleased this project is off to such a fantastic start.

  Good luck!

  Best,

  Mrs Wilson

  Second in Department for English