Dress to Impress

I stared at where Lucy was pointing with one finger over her shoulder. A father and son were standing together on the touchline a little further along. Judging from how madly they were clapping and grinning and waving at the little blond goalscorer as he trotted towards them, I guessed they were his family. The dad was tall and strong-looking, with close-cropped blond hair. The lad standing with him looked about the same age as us.

I have to say that I find most lads boring – with the massive exception of Lucy’s older brother Ben. Ben Hanratty is totally the boy I’m going to marry one day, when he opens his eyes and sees that there’s more to me than just his kid sister’s mate. But even I could see that the lad down the touchline was quite cute. He was blond, with a lovely straight nose and bright blue eyes whose colour you could see even in the sludgy October light.

“There’s no need to be so obvious,” Lucy hissed.

I whipped around and had this wild urge to giggle, which is a sure sign that I’m losing it. “Do you think he noticed us looking?” I mumbled.

Mel peeped over Lucy’s head. “Yeah,” she said with a grin, “I think he did. He’s coming over.”

Lucy groaned and hid her face in her hands. Sure enough, he was heading towards us. I bit down hard on my tongue, which made my eyes water but at least killed the giggles – for now.

“He’s really looking at you,” I said in a low voice to Lucy.

“As if!” Lucy squealed, sounding totally delighted.

The boy stopped beside Lucy. Lucy went bright red and stared furiously at the ground. Unable to catch Lucy’s eye, he turned to me instead. “That your sister then?” he said to me, nodding at Em as she jumped around with Dad up by the goal. “She made a really great pass.”

“Thanks,” I stuttered.

There was a funny silence. Lucy waggled her eyebrows madly at me, which I took to mean, “Keep him talking.”

“Um…” I said. “That your brother then?”

I realised just too late that I sounded totally like a parrot. It was exactly the same question he’d just asked me, apart from the sister bit.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Billy’s going to make us all famous one day.” He grinned as he said it, then he glanced hopefully at Mel and Lucy. “All right?” he asked.

Mel grinned back. Lucy just looked like she wanted to sink into the ground and die right there. Lucy’s funny like that – all shy around people she doesn’t know, especially boys who obviously like her!

I quickly introduced myself and my mates.

“I’m Frankie Wilson,” said the lad, “and the tall bloke’s my dad. But don’t try and talk to him,” he warned. “He’ll bore you to death with football statistics.”

“He should meet my dad,” I said. “There’d be a footie stat stand-off.”

For some reason, I decided that this was the most hilarious thing I’d ever said. Snorting giggles roared out of me, huge and loud and uncontrollable. Frankie Wilson looked a bit surprised.

“Don’t mind Coleen,” said Mel as I howled away hopelessly. “It’s a medical thing. Doctors from around the world can’t cure her. There’s nothing we can do except wait until they’re over.”

Frankie looked over at Lucy. “You always this quiet?” he asked with a gentle smile.

Lucy immediately blushed to the roots of her hair. What with me still in fits and Lu doing her beetroot thing, it was all down to Mel to keep Frankie talking.

“Lucy’s a singer,” Mel said. “She saves it for the stage.”

Frankie raised his eyebrows. “Is that right?”

Lucy gave a tiny nod and stared at the sky.

“What stuff are you into?” Frankie pressed on, looking pleased to have started a conversation with Lucy at last.

“R‘n’B,” Lucy whispered.

Frankie grinned. “Cool,” he said.

“Frankie!” yelled Frankie’s dad, his arm wrapped around his younger son’s muddy shoulders. “Time to go!”

Frankie scuffed the ground with the toes of his trainers. “Right,” he said, sounding a bit reluctant. “Gotta go. See you around, yeah?” And giving Lucy one last shy smile, he hurried off.

“Hey!” I said, starting forward. “What school do you—”

But the rest of my question was totally lost as I pitched right over and half-buried my nose in the mud. I’d forgotten about Rascal, who was still draped over my feet. And by the time I’d stood up again, and Mel and Lucy had stopped laughing their heads off, Frankie Wilson was out of sight.

“That was so embarrassing,” I moaned. “First I stare like a crazy person, then I laugh like a snorting pig and then I fall over and get covered in mud! My top’s ruined.”

“It could be worse,” Mel said.

“How?” I demanded.

Mel shrugged. “Dunno,” she said honestly.

“Coleen?” Lucy said. “Could I…maybe…come to the footie again with you next week? It’s been really fun.”

“Sure you can, Lu,” I said absently. Dad was beckoning me. “Gotta go. See you in school tomorrow, yeah?”

With a wave to my mates, I headed across the pitch with my family in the direction of home.

“Look at the state of you!” said Mum as I caught up with her. “What happened?”

“Oh, nothing, Mum. Don’t make a fuss.”

“Well you’d better get cleaned up and change into something sensible when we get home.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

“Billy Wilson’s brother seems like a nice lad,” Mum said.

“He’s cool,” I said. “I think he really likes Lucy.”

“Billy’s the best forward Hartley Juniors have ever had,” Em said, slinging her footie boots over her shoulder and holding Dad’s hand. “The Wilsons only just moved to Hartley last week. Wasn’t his goal brilliant?”

“All set up by you, Princess,” said Dad in the gruff voice he uses when he’s getting emotional.

“Good on you, Em,” I said, cuffing my little sister lightly round the head.

And then the whole world came crashing down around my ears.

There ahead of me was Ben Hanratty, walking towards us. And not only was he heading our way, but he had his arm draped over Jasmine Harris’s shoulders.