drizzle soaked her jeans so that they stuck to her legs.
She arrived at the school gates just as the rest of the team were trooping onto the coach.
‘There you are Angelina,’ exclaimed Mrs Watson upon seeing her. ‘We were about to leave without you.’
‘Sorry Miss,’ said Angelina. ‘Blame Mrs Adcock for all that maths homework she’s given us. You know how it is.’
Mrs Watson gave her a sidelong look.
‘Alright you, jump onboard,’ she smiled.
Angelina slung her kit into the storage compartment and climbed onto the bus. It was already heaving with students, for several of the other year groups were also playing matches, but she found a free seat next to a girl her own age called Amy Webster.
‘Hi Angelina,’ said Amy cheerfully as she sat down. The girl had obviously been awake for far longer than Angelina had. ‘Looking forward to the game?’
Amy was one of the few girls on the team with whom Angelina could actually stand holding a conversation. Sure, she talked about boys and TV shows and music, much the same as the rest of them. But there was none of the self-satisfied smugness that the other girls exuded. While most of them seemed in constant competition with one another, Amy just sat back and let everything run its course. She was a pretty girl. In fact she could have probably had any boy their age if she’d wanted. Except that unlike the other girls she chose not to. She had class. Not the fake kind, defined by what she wore or whom she hung out with, but the true kind, defined by her actions and the way she carried herself. Needless to say that the other girls had no appreciation for such qualities, and merely thought her snooty and frigid. Indeed, Angelina spent so much time absorbed in her own world that she had never given Amy a huge amount of time herself, but this morning she was glad of the company.
‘I guess so,’ she said in response to Amy’s question. ‘I don’t think I’ve been up for long enough to worry about it.’
‘Hey, it’s only a game of hockey, so nothing to get worried about. Late night was it? Were you watching that film over on Channel 5 too?’
‘Which one was that?’
‘Seven Years in Tibet. You know, the one with Brad Pitt in it? I started watching it, meaning to go to bed, and the next thing I knew it was ending and it was well past midnight. Still, I was glad I watched it. It was an excellent movie. So, what were you watching?’
‘Err… just a couple of DVDs,’ said Angelina, momentarily ashamed to admit to liking Spongebob.
‘Really, anything good?’ pressed Amy.
‘Actually I was watching Spongebob Squarepants,’ said Angelina deciding to go for broke, although she tried not to say it too loud in case the other girls heard.
Amy looked surprised, but not scornful.
‘I watched it a lot when my parents split up,’ continued Angelina, by way of an explanation. ‘I still put it on every now and then.’
‘When you’re feeling a little sad?’
Angelina looked up.
‘I do the same,’ said Amy. ‘Although I do it with Disney films.’
Angelina was surprised to have received such an understanding reaction.
‘Really?’ she asked.
‘Oh yes. My foster parents are good to me and all that, but I miss my real mum and dad quite a lot.’
‘Why, what happened to them?’ Angelina had asked the question before any of the potential consequences sprung to mind.
‘Oh they both died several years ago.’ It was amazing how Amy managed to say it in such a matter-of-fact way. ‘It was a car crash. I think my dad had been drink driving. I was round a friend’s house so I wasn’t in the car with them.’
Angelina was speechless. Quite apart from the tragic circumstances Amy had described, what left her most astonished was the calm and objective way in which the girl spoke about them.
‘So, what was upsetting you last night?’ Amy asked. Angelina’s troubles had suddenly been thrown into sharp relief. She did not know what to say.
‘I… I have a friend. ‘He… err… has gone away and I don’t know when I’ll next see him.’
It sounded so pathetic. She felt ashamed of her self-indulgent sorrow.
‘That’s a shame. Was he your boyfriend?’
‘Oh no, nothing like that,’ said Angelina, waving her arm dismissively. She felt a sudden sense of discomfort about disclosing her inner feelings to a relative stranger. The bus had started moving and they were on St Albans Road, heading beneath the underpass.
‘It’ll be OK though,’ said Amy, seemingly unaware of Angelina’s reluctance about the subject. ‘I’m sure you’ll see him again, and in the mean time just think about all the good memories you shared. That’s what I do.’
‘Does that work?’ asked Angelina. ‘I mean really work? You see I tried that when my parents split up, but all I ever ended up thinking about was their arguments. It was always ended in tears.’
Amy looked at her compassionately.
‘Perhaps it just takes time. I cried a lot at first when my parents passed on, but now I know that no amount of tears will bring them back and I’m certain they would not want me to be miserable for the rest of my life because of it. So I just get on with it and only think about the happy times I had with them.’
‘Wow,’ said Angelina. ‘You know, I could tell you had that kind of attitude towards life without really knowing you, but I had no idea what lay behind it. Does anyone else know about your parents?’
‘No, I don’t think so,’ shrugged Amy. ‘You’re the first person who I’ve felt like telling.’
‘But you barely know me!’
‘Yes, but you’re different from the other girls. I just felt comfortable talking to you about it.’
They chatted away happily for the rest of the journey, and for the first time in ages Angelina felt like she had a friend her own age she could talk to about anything.
Buoyed by this new friendship, Angelina approached the match with a renewed sense of urgency, fighting doggedly for the ball and trying to keep her team together, in what was a scrappy encounter that was not helped by poor weather and a heavily broken up pitch. Angelina’s team put in a good performance, defending hard against fierce opposition, and while they failed to carve out any clear-cut opportunities of their own, they kept the St Albans team at bay and came out of the match with a well-earned draw.
‘You played brilliantly,’ said Amy as the two girls sat down together on the homeward bus.
‘Oh I wouldn’t say that any of us played brilliantly,’ said Angelina dismissively. ‘But everyone played their part for the first time and the results are shown by the scoreline.’
‘Do you think the team is good enough to go on and win some games in the New Year?’ asked Amy.
There was a pause while Angelina bit her tongue and thought very hard about her reply.
‘I think so,’ she said eventually with a smile that she hoped did not look too forced.
‘Oh I do hope so,’ said Amy eagerly. ‘It would be nice just once to come off the pitch at the end of a match with my head held high.’
‘You should be holding it high now. That was the best performance this team has put in all season.’
‘You’re right,’ said Amy with a broad grin. ‘I shall.’
A short while later the bus pulled up outside the gates of their school. They disembarked and fetched their kit bags from the storage bay.
‘Well then,’ said Amy. ‘I guess I’ll see you on Monday.’
‘Unless… err… you want to come back to my Mum’s flat and veg out?’ suggested Angelina. ‘It’s only a short walk.’
‘Oooh I’d like that,’ said Amy. ‘Oh, except there are my foster parents pulling up now. I’d better head home with them. But next week sometime?’
‘Sure,’ said Angelina. ‘See you tomorrow then.’
As Angelina walked home she felt doubly satisfied with the morning’s events. A good result and a new friend; she was very happy.
As November
drew on and there continued to be no sign of Zeus returning Angelina felt increasingly grateful for her blossoming friendship with Amy. Since the hockey game the two of them had become inseparable, and there was barely an evening when one wasn’t round the other’s house doing their homework together and talking endlessly about their fellow classmates and the parties they had been to.
Yes, Angelina even found herself on the list of invitations to some of the parties her classmates held on the weekends. Despite their poorly disguised jealously of her, it turned out the girls in their class invited Amy along quite regularly, although it was clear that this was down to the amount of male attention her looks attracted. When they realised that Amy would not put in an appearance without Angelina there, they were quick to ask her along too.
Both girls laughed at the hypocrisy of it all and enjoyed the evenings out at the local community centres. They resolved that on the whole, a night out was better than a night in, and they both enjoyed a good dance while the other girls tried desperately to lure away the groups of boys that watched their every move.
December arrived and there was no let-up in Angelina’s hectic social schedule. With parties and hockey games on the weekend complementing her tuition and training during the week, she found she barely had a night free to herself. It was close to the first weekend of the month and there was a buzz about school because Chardonnay Willis was holding her birthday party on the Saturday at her parent’s large house up in Oxhey Woods. It seemed as though most of their year group had been invited, as well as many others from