The Second Virginity of Suzy Green - By Sara Hantz

Prologue

“Pass the bottle,” I yell. If Lucy finishes it I’ll kill her. And I’m not joking either.

“Make me,” she cries taking a step closer and waving it under my nose.

“Right that’s it.” I leap up from the bench and lunge at her. But my feet get caught up in one another and suddenly I lose my balance. “Help,” I cry, but too late. Splat. I land in a heap on the ground. I roll over onto my back, stretch my arms and legs out and wave them up and down. “Look. I’m an angel. Weeeeeeeee. I’m an angel and the angel needs a drink. Please Luce. Please. I’m thirsty.” I close my eyes but everything starts to spin so I quickly jerk them open. Standing over me is Lucy.

“Why should I? I bought it.” She takes a drink and skips off holding her arms out like she’s a plane.

“Stole it, you mean.” I giggle at my joke. I’m so funny.

A stream of dribble runs out the corner of my mouth then flows back in. Before I can stop myself I swallow and start to choke. I push myself up until sitting and cough and cough. Eventually Lucy comes over.

“Here,” she says holding out the bottle of vodka.

“Thanks,” I say grabbing it from her. I lift it to my lips but miss and pour it all over me. “Shhit. That’s just typical. Just fucking typical. I can’t do anything right. My life sucks. It’s the suckiest life in the whole world. Sucks, sucks, sucks. That’s me. And that’s my life.”

I drop back down on the ground still clutching the neck of the vodka bottle. My eyes close and I lay motionless until something bubbling in the pit of my stomach forces me upright. “Luce,” I moan. “I don’t feel well.”

“Stick your fingers down your throat. Works for me every time.”

“Okay.” I hold out my hand and Lucy pulls me up. “Take this while I chuck up in the bushes.” I give her the vodka. “And don’t drink it all. Or else.”

My feet point in the direction of the bushes but they’re too heavy to move. Then, without warning, vomit shoots out of my mouth and covers me. And my new sneakers.

“Suzy,” Lucy shouts. “You freak.”

“Lucy. I’ve been sick.” I lean forward and wrap my arms around my middle. “It tastes horrible. And I smell soooooo bad.”

“Well take your clothes off then, and wash them in the fountain.”

“Yes. Yes. That’s such a good idea. You’re so clever. I wish I was clever. Why is everyone I know clever and I’m not. It’s not fair. It’s so not fair.” I yank at my shirt and a button flies off. “Oh, shit. That’s all I need.” A noise distracts me and I look up. “Fuck. Can my life get any worse?”

Chapter One

“Bye Dad,” I say, opening the car door and swinging my legs around to ease myself out.

New state, new school, new start.

New state, new school, new start.

New state, new school, new start.

It really helped when Maddie (aka best friend and one person who knows nearly all my innermost secrets) and I were singing it the other night on the phone, but now it’s doing absolutely nothing to quell the nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I couldn’t sleep a wink last night worrying my butt off about today. What if they all hate me and won’t talk to me? I’ll be a total Larry Loner. Or what if everyone there is really weird? I mean, if the uniform is anything to go by I’m in serious trouble. I glance down at my way-too-long green and grey checked skirt, which no-one at my old school would be seen dead in, and shudder. And having to wear a tie really sucks. It feels like I’m choking.

Maddie would laugh herself senseless if she could see me. Ever since I told her my new school, St Peter’s Academy, is where all the religious rich kids go she’s been teasing me about having to dress like Deirdre our school librarian.

I’m really going to miss Maddie. Dad’s secondment means most of our contact over the next year will be cyber. Why they couldn’t train someone else to do the job I don’t know. It’s not like he’s some sort of nuclear physicist. There must be plenty of structural engineers in San Francisco who would be suitable.

“Have fun. And be good,” Dad says as I close the car door behind me.

I fling my bag over my shoulder, wave in Dad’s

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