Withering Tights - By Louise Rennison Page 0,19

started sidling up to the tree saying to it, “Ooohhh, I’m gorguth. I weally, weally am.”

And she was shaking her bosoms at it and waggling her legs about.

She was so confident, it was amazing.

And sort of catching.

Vaisey started waggling her bottom at the tree saying, “Look at my lovely bottom, it’s like a lovely…jelly!”

Flossie was shouting, “Why!! You’re beeaauuutiful!!!”

It was very catching.

And I let rip with my legs.

As Jo was sweeping her hair up and down the tree, I was yelling at it, “You know you want the knees!!! Offer yourself to the knees!!!”

Then a voice behind us said, “Quickly, get a bucket of water, it’s a girl fest!”

We all looked round and a shortish boy with a dark brown, floppy fringe and good-looking face was grinning at us. Behind him was another boy, taller, with wavy, dark blonde hair. Also grinning.

None of us knew what to say. Perhaps we could pretend we were druids. Damn, I had forgotten my false moustache!

Jo eventually said, “Who are you, lurking about…er…lurking at people, who are…”

I said, “…who are doing a theatrical workshop.”

The floppy-haired one was Phil and the blonde one, Charlie. We told them our names and they leaned against the tree, looking at us. Phil has got a really nice smile, sort of twinkly, with nice teeth.

Then Charlie said to me, “Great kneework, Tallulah, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Crumbs.

Jo, who seemed to have developed the cocky gene suddenly, said to them, “What are you doing here?”

Phil said, “We are on a forced cross-country jog.”

I said, “But you’re not jogging.”

Charlie said, “Well spotted.”

Phil said, “We were on the jog, but we got tired of the jog.”

Charlie went on, “We got tired of the jog just after we came out of the school gates. And thank goodness we did, otherwise we would have missed finding the ‘Tree Sisters Club’.”

Phil said, “I would have never forgiven myself.”

Vaisey said, “We are getting ideas for our Wuthering Heights performance.”

We all nodded and I crossed my legs casually. Charlie smiled at me.

I said, “Yes, we are at the performing arts summer school at Dother Hall. That is what we are at…”

I trailed off because both Phil and Charlie were looking at me.

Phil said, “So, let me get this right, you are all training to be lesbians?”

I said, “I think you mean thespians.”

And Charlie said, “I know what I saw, love.”

And he and Phil laughed.

And funnily enough, we all laughed. It must have looked bloody weird dancing round a tree and trying to get off with it.

We all relaxed then. It was exciting having two captive, real-life boys to talk to. Vaisey asked them about their school, Woolfe Academy. “What do you do there?”

Charlie said, “We get bored and depressed, mostly.”

Phil said, “We’re there because…well it’s a small thing, really, there was a bit of…an incident at our, er ‘normal’ school.”

We looked at him.

Phil went on, “You know how it is with boys and home-made fireworks. And science labs that, you know…go…”

I said, “Go?”

Charlie said, “Up.”

Phil went on, “So the bottom line is that we are at Woolfe Academy to be taught how to become decent citizens.”

Wow.

Flossie said, “Are you, like, ‘out of control yoof’?”

Phil said, “Very like that.”

Vaisey said, “Is it because your parents don’t understand you?”

Charlie said, “No, it’s because our parents understand us very well, and that is why they wanted us to go away.”

Phil was nodding wisely. “Yes, we are here to learn how to become normal young men, and to do that we have to jog everywhere with rucksacks on our backs. That is the key.”

Charlie went on, “Although, to be frank, if the headmaster had his way we would be hopping everywhere. Just to show us what real life is really about. He’s only got one leg.”

Out of the blue, Phil said to Jo, “I liked your hair dance thing. Was that the magic of modern dance?”

Jo frowned. And jabbered on like Jabber the Wok. “Yes. We do dance at college, in fact, hahahahaha Tallulah has already done Irish dancing. She kneed the headmistress. On stage. In front of everyone.”

Oh, thank you very much, new, strong, but thickish friend.

Charlie said, “Wow! You kneed the headmistress. Would you mind if I touched the sacred knees?”

What did that mean?

Was he joking?

Or had my knees made a real impact?

At that moment, there was a piercing whistle and the sound of pounding feet in the near distance. A voice yelled, “OK, lads, keep it up! Well run, Miles Senior, just the ploughed field, through the