Blood Moon

  Table of Contents

  Part One

  Saturday

  Sunday

  Monday

  Tuesday

  Wednesday

  Part Two

  Thursday

  Friday

  Saturday

  Sunday

  Monday

  Part Three

  Tuesday

  Wednesday

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Copyright

  To Bronwen, Helen,

  Kirsten and Rachel.

  PART ONE

  SATURDAY

  A SLICE OF NIGHT

  I perch on the bench in

  the planetarium staffroom

  and take out my phone

  with its smooth black and gold

  star-spangled case and

  read all the messages

  from today while I wait

  listening to the silent room,

  checking it’s empty

  before I get changed.

  There’s a message from Dad

  and a ton in the chat

  with the girls called

  BEANS ON TOAST

  (the only thing

  any of us can cook).

  Dad

  I will be the one in the

  white ford behind the trees

  at five past zero

  hundred hours. D x

  I think he’s being funny,

  but I don’t get it.

  He’s on another planet.

  At least he’s agreed

  to pick me and Harriet up

  around the back,

  and not inside

  the ice rink,

  like he wanted to.

  I open BEANS ON TOAST.

  Harriet

  Just getting ready!!

  Bethany

  Remind me why we’re going

  to an *ICE RINK* birthday party.

  Are we ten again?

  Leylah

  Apparently it’s free cos

  Jackson’s on the ice hockey team,

  but it’s totally so he can show

  off to everybody.

  Harriet

  He can show off to me.

  Apparently he’s amazing.

  Bethany

  I thought you fancied Lee?

  Harriet

  I can multitask.

  Bethany

  Lol.

  I’m secretly quite up for it.

  Marie

  I’m openly up for it.

  It’ll be fun.

  Harriet

  What you all wearing?

  Leylah

  Shorts and a crop top…

  And a massive hoody,

  to get past the parent police.

  Marie

  Erm … Ley, *ICE* skating…

  I’m wearing two pairs of leggings

  and a vest under my dress.

  Leylah

  Ugh. Changing now.

  Warm clothes are so

  unflattering on me.

  At least I’ll be allowed out.

  Harriet

  You always look lovely.

  Has anyone heard

  from Frankie today?

  Me

  I’m here!

  Just finishing work.

  Tell me when

  you’re there. XX

  I finish typing,

  then take off my uniform

  and let my dress

  slink down over my

  not completely flat

  (but also not yet

  satisfactory) chest.

  A dab of concealer,

  a sweep of Benefit tint

  on my cheeks

  and I’m good to go.

  Jackson Twigger’s

  Sweet Sixteenth

  at the Ice Rink Disco.

  (Although…

  Jackson Twigger.

  Sweet?

  LOL.)

  While I wait for the girls,

  I scroll on my phone.

  Harriet’s posted a photo

  of herself in our tree house.

  #GettingReady #InstaMakeup

  #Starlight #Stargazing #NightsOut

  She looks really pretty,

  her eyes all smoky,

  but I know

  the photo

  is from

  ages ago.

  It shouldn’t annoy me,

  but we’re not getting ready

  in our tree house tonight

  and I hate when

  she’s being fake.

  Under the photo

  Jackson’s replied,

  ur hot.

  Harriet’s written

  thanks babe and

  done a winky face.

  (Does she actually like him

  or does she just like flirting?)

  Harriet

  We’re here!

  Bring it, biatch.

  I pull on my trainers,

  then open the door

  to the atrium

  where Vidhi is

  putting away a wooden box

  of sparkling meteor rocks.

  I wish I’d waited here

  chatting to her

  about astronomy

  instead of looking

  at what Harriet’s posting.

  “Have a good time,”

  Vidhi says.

  “You were great today.

  You’re clearly

  really

  into this.”

  “Thanks,” I say,

  her compliment

  blazing inside me

  incandescently.

  “And send me

  your application for the

  summer programme.

  Or you can

  just bring it

  next Saturday.

  I’ll make sure

  Elaine gets it.”

  “Thanks,” I say, again,

  a flutter of nerves

  at the thought of her

  and the director

  of this whole place

  reading my essay.

  “Thanks, Vidhi.

  See you next Saturday.”

  “I’ll be rooting for you!”

  she says,

  which means

  the World

  to me.

  Vidhi did the exact same

  summer programme when

  she was sixteen,

  and now she’s got a

  PhD in astronomy.

  #LifeGoals

  I push open

  the double doors

  and breathe in

  the street-light night.

  Over the buildings,

  the crescent moon

  is a sharp, bright slice

  of other-worldly light.

  I snap a quick picture.

  The moon comes out tiny,

  all of its majesty

  lost by my phone’s

  complete inability

  to take a picture of something

  so far from me.

  I know Harriet

  will find it funny.

  Me

  Took this and thought of you.

  #ShitPicturesOfTheMoon

  Harriet

  LOL. Get your ass in here.

  Skating’s starting soon.

  SWEET SIXTEEN

  “Frankie!” Harriet screams,

  waving at me,

  bracelets jangling,

  as I walk into the chilly

  and unnecessarily

  brightly lit room.

  The music is loud,

  and our crowd

  spills out of a booth

  near the rental boots.

  I climb over the back

  of the seatsr />
  and slide in between

  Harriet and Marie.

  Jackson is already strutting

  in front of the group,

  talking loudly

  as though we’re

  his own personal audience.

  There’s Bethany,

  Leylah,

  Marie,

  me,

  Harriet (laughing loudly),

  Dev,

  Lee,

  and Charlie.

  Jackson is telling everyone

  how last weekend

  he got a new mountain bike

  on his actual birthday.

  He went out riding,

  and met two girls

  who were all over him

  because

  chicks dig bikes.

  Then he tells us how

  he ended up

  shagging

  them both

  as a birthday present.

  (Yeah, right.)

  He shows us all

  a picture of him

  straddling his bike,

  with two girls kissing him,

  one on each cheek.

  “How long do we

  have to listen to this?”

  I mutter to Harriet,

  but she doesn’t

  answer me,

  and Jackson is still going,

  gesticulating grotesquely

  with his over-mobile groin.

  Harriet grins at me

  and fans her fanny

  then rolls her eyes

  like she’s about to faint.

  I whisper to Marie,

  “Is it just me,

  or is Jackson

  disgusting?”

  but Marie’s not listening.

  Then Jackson looks at me

  scathingly.

  Maybe he heard me.

  I hope he did.

  I don’t care if he hates me.

  Harriet’s eyes stay

  fixed on him.

  Then she laughs

  at something he says,

  and throws back her head,

  like a wolf howling at the moon.

  As she does,

  her tilted-back head

  leaves a gap

  under her chin and

  I notice someone I hadn’t

  previously seen:

  Benjamin Jones.

  He’s sitting between

  Dev and Lee

  in a leather jacket,

  looking explosively cute.

  He turns his eyes to me,

  and right then

  something physical

  happens

  down below.

  He’s so good-looking

  I can feel the photons

  bouncing off him

  and colliding

  with me.

  #InstantCrush

  NOTICING

  The next time Harriet laughs,

  mine and Benjamin’s eyes meet

  in the tiny bit of space–time

  her thrown-back head creates.

  I smile at him slightly.

  He smiles back at me.

  I don’t know when

  we last spoke

  but recently I have noticed him

  noticing me.

  Only now it’s not just

  noticing each other,

  or looking at each other.

  We’re really

  seeing each other.

  BLUSHING

  “What are you

  blushing about?”

  Harriet’s whisper

  is like sandpaper

  on my eardrum.

  “I’m not!”

  I squeak,

  my voice high,

  my larynx tight.

  I thought she

  was too busy

  watching Jackson

  to notice the colour

  of my cheeks but

  she’s staring at me,

  a single raised eyebrow

  grilling me.

  My cheeks grow redder

  under the heat.

  I could tell her

  I’m giving Benjamin

  the eye,

  but I quite like

  the privacy of

  realizing

  I fancy Benjamin

  and not telling her.

  I usually tell her

  everything.

  “Fine, ignore me,”

  she says, clambering over me.

  “I’m going to talk to Lee

  while my hair still

  looks amazing.”

  (Which one is it?

  Jackson or Lee?)

  Then she leans back in.

  “By the way,

  blushing fact:

  apparently

  it’s not just your cheeks

  the blood rushes to

  when you’re embarrassed.

  It’s your lady lips too.”

  She nods at my crotch

  and grins

  and I whack her.

  “Harriet! Ugh.

  You make everything

  disgusting!”

  “That’s why you love me,”

  she smirks

  as she leaps off the bench,

  sticks the landing,

  and flicks her hair back

  like she knows

  she looks amazing.

  Her skirt is hitched up,

  stuck on her tights,

  and I try to tell her

  but the music is so loud.

  And anyway,

  right then I catch

  Benjamin’s eye again

  and am presented,

  instantly,

  with confirmation

  of her blushing fact.

  MILKSHAKE

  Harriet squeezes on

  to the end of the bench,

  leaning in to whisper

  something to Lee,

  and pushing Benjamin

  one person closer to me.

  I listen to him

  chatting to Dev,

  wondering how

  I might join in.

  Then the waitress

  brings our shakes.

  No one can remember

  who ordered which flavour

  so she dumps them all

  in the middle

  and everyone l e a n s

  across the table,

  milkshake spilling

  and finger licking.

  I scrunch up my face

  at the stickiness,

  and pull my elbows away

  from the mess.

  Harriet catches me,

  rolls her eyes at me.

  Then slides the last shake

  slowly towards her saying,

  “Ooh, it’s got a flake,

  my absolute fave.”

  “Really,” says Marie,

  sarcastically.

  “You never mention it.”

  Harriet nibbles

  her chocolate gleefully

  and finishes it

  ridiculously quickly.

  She licks her fingers

  and shrugs as she says,

  “I know what I like.”

  Jackson leans in and says,

  “Want some of mine?”

  and picks his flake

  off the top of his shake

  and leaving a trickle

  of strawberry syrup

  across the table

  offers it to Harriet

  to lick off the cream.

  I turn to Marie,

  so I don’t have to see

  Harriet’s tongue

  near Jackson’s fingers.

  (It’s so unnecessary,

  the

  flirty,

  touchy,

  licky

  publicness

  of what they’re doing.)

  When I look back,

  Dev’s getting up,

  and

  Benjamin

&
nbsp; is

  right next to me.

  I sip my milkshake,

  wondering how

  to talk to him

  without anyone

  noticing.

  And even though it’s obscene,

  I can’t help wondering whether

  he’s watching as

  I put my lips to my straw

  and suck.

  And there I go again.

  I’m blushing,

  but just then

  Benjamin’s arm

  brushes my elbow

  and I’m about

  to speak when

  the music gets louder

  and Jackson shouts,

  “Let’s do this!”

  Everyone stands up

  to go and get hire skates

  and our moment

  is bro

  ken.

  ON THE ICE

  The girls and I

  do swooping laps

  under the disco ball,

  which spins in circles,

  shedding sparkles

  in time with the beat.

  We laugh at the boys,

  who can’t all skate,

  and watch Jackson

  zigzag backwards,

  like the show-off he is,

  pulling Harriet after him

  holding her hands,

  her hair flying behind her

  and her laughter erupting

  in flirty explosions

  over the music.

  And

  a l l n i g h t

  I try to get

  near Benjamin.

  Just

  before midnight

  the lights go low

  and a slow

  song comes on

  and there he is,

  in front of me.

  “Hey,” I say,

  over the bass.

  “How are you?”

  “Good, thanks,”

  he says,

  sliding closer.

  “You?”

  “Good,” I say.

  Then he slips

  and wobbles a bit

  and his hands shoot out,

  so I take his fingers

  into my palm,

  helping him

  balance.

  We’re skin to skin.

  His hands are warm.

  And I’m worried

  I’m going to say

  something stupid,

  or weird,

  which is weird,

  because stupid

  is so not my thing,

  so I say,

  “Shall we skate?”

  He nods and gives me

  a sheepish grin.

  “Sure thing.”