"Where did you disappear off to yesterday?" Taylor asked in registration on Friday morning. She was wearing her uniform again, unlike me. Ebony was going to be mad...

"I had to go home, felt a bit..." I explained, staring out of the huge windows behind Taylor and at the torrential rain outside. Autumn came with the worst weather here in Belleville; one of the reasons why I was so reluctant to wear my cheer uniform. The other reason? I didn't want to look like a slut.

"Why didn't you text me? And seriously, Evie, those periods of yours are getting out of hand - go on the pill."

"What? I never said - oh never mind...And I didn't text you because I couldn't be bothered to reply to the twenty-four texts my phone received."

It was true, in the couple of hours with Gerard I had managed to miss twenty-four texts and eight calls from my friends. I was dreading school; I thought I was going to be murdered. I suppose I wasn't out of the woods yet; I had yet to meet up with Ebony and Charlotte.

"Anyway, while you were busy going home or whatever, we were planning to go to the mall. So, what do you say to this Saturday?"

"Tomorrow?" Taylor nodded. "Yeah, sure, I don't think I have anything planned."

The bell rang soon after and we both separated to go to our individual lessons. I walked out of the room, passing Miss Collins, who smiled warmly at me. I tried to smile back, but I could feel that it looked creepy murderish; I was in so much pain from trying not to limp.

I passed Gerard in the corridor and for once he didn't insult me. I felt like something was missing when the words 'whore', 'slut' or 'fake' weren't fired in my direction. My eyes lingered on the black mop of hair for a few seconds and I could see hazel eyes shining from underneath the long bangs. He was smirking at me! I scowled back as I past him. I heard him mutter the word 'crutches', but he hurried off in the opposite direction before I could retaliate.

At lunch, I was cornered by Ebony. She was sitting at the usual table in the middle of the cafeteria, Megan and Louise sat on either side of her. All three of them had their noses glued to their iPhones, unaware of anything that was going on around them.

"Taylor told us you took off yesterday because of period pains?" Ebony said as I sat down at the round table, not looking up from her phone. Megan and Louise, however, left what they were doing to stare at me. They were probably expecting a row; Ebony didn't sound amused.

"Uh...yeah. I know, she's lectured me on getting the pill..." I sighed, not wanting an Ebony-tantrum.

"Yeah, why aren't you on it yet? We all are."

"Remember Ebony, she hasn't had sex in three years," Megan piped up. She didn't speak much around me, but when she did it was always to have a dig at me. I got the impression she felt threatened. Louise and Megan were always like that around me - I found it strange, but didn't care that they didn't take to me; I had no time for lap dogs.

"Oh yeah, good point Megan." Megan looked smug at the praise she'd be given, as if she'd just been thrown a bone. "That's another thing, Evie; people think you're frigid."

That came out of the blue.

"Is that a bad thing?" I asked innocently. I was perfectly fine with being frigid. The male attention I did receive was tiresome and repetitive. It didn't help that most of the guys in this school didn't have two brain cells to rub together.

"Of course it is! Evie! You have a reputation to uphold. We can't have people thinking you're frigid. Why hasn't Dean asked you out yet?"

"Because -"

"Because you're frigid and because you don't wear your uniform. I want you to go to Charlotte's party with Dean," Ebony commanded. I told you she'd be mad about the uniform.

"Are you ordering me to have sex wi-"

"No, Evie! I'm telling you that you need to be seen with guys. Do you want people to think you're a lesbian?"

I sighed; I couldn't be bothered to argue so I just agreed to whatever they told me. This seemed to be a pretty effective way to dodge a telling-off from Ebony. By the end of lunch, my friends had made sure that the school knew I was planning on going to the party with Dean, and once the guy himself found out, he was straight over to ask me out. Of course I had been ordered to say yes, so it was settled - I was going to Charlotte's party with Dean Stainton.

I was dreading cheer practice even before the Dean thing, what with my barely useable leg and everything. But now it was pure torture; all of the girls kept telling me how jealous they were and how much of a good couple we made. It made me feel sick. Although one benefit had come out of it - I'd put Ebony in a good mood. She didn't criticise me once, even though she had every reason to. My flips, tumbles and landings were far from perfect, but she took to making snide remarks about the other girls' abilities and/or looks instead.

"So I'll pick you up tomorrow, yeah?" Taylor said as we left the changing rooms.

"Yeah, what time?"

"Eleven?"

I laughed. "You're going to be ready for that time? Yeah, sure, but don't be late!"

"I won't!" Taylor whined. She was the worst of all of us for being late. She was always the last to wake up at sleepovers and was always the last to get ready for a party. She just could not physically be on time.

We left the school chatting about what we would wear. The girls paid particular interest to what I was saying as it was technically also a date for me. Charlotte assured me she'd help choose something that would have Dean 'like putty in my hands'. I don't think I liked the sound of that, but I just nodded. The sluttier the better, in those girls' eyes.

We parted ways in the school car park.

***

"Mum!" I shouted. It was Saturday morning and I was running around the house half dressed in maroon shorts and a cardigan with no shirt underneath.

"You're not going out like that, are you?" My mum appeared from the rustic kitchen. She was holding a frying pan caked in carbon and bubbles.

"Don't be silly, I'm not ready yet. Have you seen my purse?" I felt my pockets instinctively.

"Nope, where did you last have it?"

"It was in my school bag, but it's not in there anymore."

"Is it under your bed?" My mum always asked that question. She knew that, instead of tidying, I just pushed everything under my bed. She also knew that when ever I lost anything, the most likely place for it to be was beneath my bed.

"No, I definitely had it the other day," I rushed through to the living room to remove the cushions from the couch.

"You better pick them up!" Mum called from the kitchen. I threw the cushions back on haphazardly and rushed through into the kitchen, checking under the table and in the draws.

"It's not going to be in the fridge, is it?" My mum said in her reasonable voice as she caught me sticking my head between the shelves.

"No but I'm hungry," I complained, taking my head out of the fridge and patting my flat stomach.

"Well, I was going to do pancakes, but your dad's been cooking again." She held up the soapy pan she was currently scrubbing. I guess that explained the carbon.

"Ah, I'll have to get something in the mall, then." With that I rushed back upstairs to continue getting dressed and looking for my purse.

Eleven o'clock came and went and there was still no sign of my purse, or Taylor - I knew I couldn't rely on that girl. My mum came into my room to see how my hunt was going and passed me a few notes out of her bag, her hands now free from soap bubbles. She said I could pay her back when I found my purse (which was pointless; the money in my purse was the money she'd given me in the first place).

At 11:13, I finally heard a horn sounding outside my bedroom window. I grabbed my bag, back-up purse (which was the most hideous thing I had ever laid eyes on) and ran out into the autumn sunshine, now fully dressed with a flowy white shirt and black leather jacket - the cardigan I'd worn earlier was lying on my bedroom floor, reunited with the rest of my clothes.

My dad was in front of the house cutting the trees back.

"Hey Evie," he said in the Irish accent neither my mum nor I shared, "shopping?"

"Yeah," I said, waving to Taylor.

"Well have a nice time, and remind Taylor her mirrors are not for checking her makeup."

"I heard that, Mr McCullagh!" Taylor shouted through the passenger window. My dad simply laughed and shook his head. I jumped into the passenger seat of Taylor's silver car and my ears were instantly filled with Taylor Swift. I gritted my teeth, trying not to show my dislike for my friend's music taste. I swear she only liked her because they shared a name...

After fifteen minutes of listening to my Taylor scream along to famous Taylor - "NEVER EVER EVER, GETTING BACK TOGETHER!" - in the most out-of-tune voice possible, we pulled into the busy parking lot. For once, the skies were clear of rain.

"Hi guys," Charlotte said as Taylor and I rushed under the glass canopy of the mall entrance to meet her, "Taylor make you late again?"

"Mmhm," I hummed, winking at the small, flustered blonde haired girl I called my friend.

"Ah, don't worry, I'm still waiting on Ebony, Megan and Louise anyway."

We stood waiting for at least fifteen minutes, chatting about what we planned to buy. Eventually the trio arrived with Ebony leading and we headed to Starbucks to get out fix before moving onto the shopping.

"Evie, what is that?" Ebony asked, pointing at the purse I had just pulled out of my shoulder bag.

I looked at it for a second, then said, "oh, I lost my purse somehow. This is my mum's."

"It's disgusting!"

"I know, but it's my only choice." I quickly whipped the money out and stuffed the ugly black leather thing back out of sight, feeling incredibly self conscious. I discreetly cast my eyes around the rest of the coffee shop, checking that no-one else had seen the purse.

After sipping our various Starbucks drinks and gossiping about whoever Ebony didn't agree with, we split up. Ebony and her clones went off to find the best underwear for the party - I know, who worries about their underwear at a party? Whores, is the answer to that one - and Charlotte, Taylor and myself decided we would find our dresses.

Two hours in, Charlotte announced she'd found the 'perfect' dress for me. I wandered over, intrigued, but started protesting immediately once I saw it.

It was made of a pale pink material which would suit my 'freakishly pale skin', according to Charlotte, and was about five centimetres in height. Seriously, it was tiny; it would probably just cover my belly button. Except it wouldn't cover my belly button due to the huge cut outs on the stomach and back. In short, it was hideous, but Charlotte insisted I try it on.

"Dean will be drooling over you," she commented happily as I stepped out of the changing rooms.

I rolled my eyes, picking at the slinky material. "I don't like it."

"Why not?!" Charlotte had her mouth open and her brown eyes bulged. Behind her, Taylor was shaking her head. I guess she didn't like it either.

"I dunno," I shrugged, feeling incredibly conscious of my near-nakedness, "pink's not my colour."

Charlotte continued complaining even after I'd bought the dress I would be wearing. The dress was dark blue - almost black - and was made of a satin material. It was still incredibly short, skin-tight and strapless, but it was a million times more tasteful than the dress Charlotte had chosen for me.

After the three of us had chosen what we would be wearing, we decided to go and find Ebony. On our way out of the store, all laden down with shopping bags (we couldn't just buy one thing), I spotted a mop of black hair making it's way out of the comic book store opposite. He was with a very tall, very thin boy with mousey brown hair and pointed features. Of course he saw us straight away - we weren't hard to find with Charlotte's laughing and Taylor's excited shouting - and started making his way towards us. My heart sank through the floor.

"Hey Evie," Gerard said casually, his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets. Charlotte and Taylor stopped at once and stared, mouths hanging slightly open. The boy Gerard was with looked equally as shocked, and just as uncomfortable as I felt. He fidgeted with the comic books in his hands just as I fidgeted with my shopping bags.

"Uh, hi?" I didn't know what to do. What would they think if they found out I'd spent Thursday afternoon at the hospital with him?

"How's your ankle?"

"Uh, Evie? What's going on?" Charlotte said slowly. I bit the inside of my cheek, staring, wide eyed, between Gerard and my friends.

"I tripped on the steps outside school the other day. Way stopped me from falling. Pretty nice for someone who wants the whole world to die, huh?" My words came out in a rush. The lie was far from smooth, but the girls bought it. They laughed and Charlotte pushed her way past Gerard, who looked hurt at what I'd just said. I felt a pang of guilt, but as I walked away I turned around and winked and the smile reappeared on his face, along with a lot of confusion.

The next week went rather smoothly. Gerard didn't try to show me up in front of my friends again and resumed his habit of insulting me whenever he saw me. Of course I knew it was a joke and returned the insult whenever I had the chance. In French I tried to say hi to Eve at every opportunity (she probably thought I was a little bit desperate) and gave Gerard the finger whenever he noticed me doing it. My friends were super excited about Charlotte's party that Saturday and would not stop talking about it. By the end of the week, the party had been planned and re-planned and re-re-planned. Dean had been hanging around me a lot more than usual, and the other footballers were noticeably absent. I assumed Dean had told them I was 'his'. He seemed the possessive type, but I was just pleasing my friends - I had no intentions of doing anything with him.

Friday's practice was buzzing with the talk of the party the next day. It was probably the first party of the school year for a lot of girls - I know it was for me - so the air was filled with conversations of what people were wearing, who they were going with, how they were getting there and so on. Even Ebony was a little less strict than she usually was. That still didn't stop her complaining that our performances were 'sloppy' and 'badly timed', but everyone seemed to be too wrapped up in party talk to take her criticisms seriously.

Taylor drove me home that Friday night as it had started raining again. She was so excited for the party; she said she couldn't wait to see Dean and I together. I rolled my eyes and kept quiet and she eventually dropped the subject. We arrived at my house with no more talk of Saturday. As I climbed out of Taylor's car, she informed me she would be picking me up at half seven. I nodded, knowing full well it would be closer to eight o'clock before she even left her house.