Rachel went out to her friend Jenny’s house so I thought I’d sing my song to Mum. She looked very thoughtful as I was singing, and when I was finished she cleared her throat and said, ‘That’s really good, love. And it’s a really good present. But if you want to get her anything else, I’ll give you some money. Not too much money,’ she added, in case I thought she was going to hand over a hundred-euro note. Which I didn’t. Anyway, I thought that was very nice of her, and it shows she appreciates my musical talents.
So it turns out Cass isn’t the only gay person at the summer camp. I mean, obviously she isn’t − there are over a hundred people there so it stands to reason a few of them would be gay. But she says it is strangely comforting to know for sure that they are there. Or at least that one of them is. After lunch today, Ellie took Cass to look at some of the props in the art room (Cass is still yearning for the world of set design), and when Alice, Jane and I were on our way back from the canteen, we bumped into Jamie from the drama course. Even though he is two years older than us, unlike SOME people (Rachel) he has manners and is able to talk politely to people younger than him. We were just chatting about our various courses, and Alice said something about being glad Richard was doing the course too.
‘It’s not like we’re joined at the hip or anything,’ she said. ‘But it’s fun that we’re all involved in the same big thing.’
‘Yeah, I wish my boyfriend was here too,’ said Jamie. ‘But he’s doing a computer-programming thing in Trinity for secondary-school students. Which is cool, obviously, but it would be handy if it was here too.’
‘I didn’t know you had a boyfriend!’ said Jane.
Jamie grinned. ‘Yeah, I do,’ he said. ‘You’re not shocked, are you?’
‘Hardly,’ said Jane, looking offended at the very thought.
‘Well, you’d be surprised,’ said Jamie. ‘Or, actually, you probably wouldn’t.’ He looked at me and Alice. ‘You’re doing the rock camp thing, right? A few of your fellow band people had some charming words for me the other day.’
‘Ugh, I bet I know who that was,’ I said. ‘Was it a really cocky boy with sort of light brown hair with too much gel?’
‘It was,’ said Jamie. Charlie. Of course. ‘I don’t think he even knows I’m gay. He and his red-haired friend were calling my friend Cillian gay too, and he’s got a girlfriend.’
He certainly does. That’s the boy Ellie fancies. But it seems that Charlie (and his bandmate Robbie − I presume that’s who the red-haired pal was) just uses ‘gay’ as a general sort of insult to any boy who isn’t exactly like him, ie a boring toad. Anyway, when we found Cass again, we told her about Jamie. I didn’t want it to look like we thought she would automatically bond with him just because they’re both gay, but I did think she’d be interested, and she was. He is the first teenager she has encountered besides Liz who is actually out.
Speaking of Liz, she is home today, and Cass was going into town after the camp to meet her. Apparently, her mum wanted her to invite Liz over to their house so she could meet her properly (they met at our musical, but of course Liz wasn’t Cass’s girlfriend then), but Cass refused because she knows her mum would just be fussing over them the whole time and saying how cool it is to have a lesbian daughter. I don’t blame her (Cass, not her mum). It was bad enough when John met my parents for the first time, and I didn’t have to worry about them going on about how open-minded they were for five hours.
Anyway, Cass could hardly concentrate today because she is so excited at the thought of their big reunion. I really am happy for her, though I couldn’t help wishing I’d ever got to have a big reunion with Paperboy. Sometimes I used to imagine that he had come home without telling me and I’d just open the door and find him there. And just imagining that moment would make me feel really happy, just for a second. I suppose he will come back to Dublin at some stage, at least for a visit – I mean, all his grandparents and aunts and uncles and stuff are still here, and he’s not going to stay in Canada for the rest of his life. But it wouldn’t be the same now.
Anyway, I really am happy for Cass. Honestly. And she managed to calm down for our great workshop this afternoon, which was just us and Kitty. We did some recording in the campus studio, which was more complicated than you’d think but still good fun. We recorded some of the instruments separately, which was quite weird, and then we each sang our vocals. And now we have a rough version of ‘The Real Me!’ It’s mad hearing a recorded version. It actually makes us sound more professional than I thought it would. Imagine, in a few years, when we are famous rock stars (and possibly famous TV chefs too if the whole sweet-making thing works out), maybe this recording will be worth a fortune! I said this to Alice, and she said that it mightn’t be worth a fortune, exactly, but our fans would treasure it. Which is good enough.
I got my exam results! And after all my panicking, I did quite well: two As, mostly Bs, and a C in maths. The others did well too – in fact, Cass did better in maths than I did. She was in a very good mood today, not only because she won’t have to go to extra maths classes but also because she has had her joyous reunion with Liz. She was practically skipping along the corridors. I was worried she wouldn’t be able to give any attention to the band, but I have to say that she was very hard-working once we were in the practice space this morning. She even came up with a great bassline for a new song, which led Alice to work out a gorgeous catchy melody. It’s really good. I’m going to write some lyrics for it so we can perfect it in time for our show next week.
Actually, I have a new source of inspiration for my lyric-writing, because we had another excellent songwriting workshop with Ian Cliff today. He seems nice, but he is rather intimidating. (I think that is because he is so tall. Oh God, maybe Cass and Alice are right and I really do have a thing about tall people? Surely not. I mean, anyone would be intimidated by Ian Cliff, he’s practically a giant.) He played a few different songs, and we had to analyse them to see how they worked. It was very interesting. There is a thing in songs called a middle eight which is a bit that doesn’t have exactly the same tune or chords as the chorus or the verse. We realised that none of our songs have a middle eight, so after the workshop we went back to our practice room and basically added one to the song we’ve been working on − we took a verse from another song we’d started recently that went quite well with the chords. Our songwriting skills really are developing.
The only thing that spoiled the day was, unsurprisingly, Charlie and his disgusting Crack Parrots. They were talking about Jamie. They have discovered that he actually is gay − probably by eavesdropping on other people’s conversations, it’s not like they talk much to anyone else on the course apart from when they’re bragging about how great they are. Anyway, I was sitting in front of them at the workshop, and at one stage, when Ian was talking to Small Paula about something (they both looked very intense and mysterious – they have quite a lot in common even though they are such different heights), I couldn’t help eavesdropping myself because they were laughing about Jamie at top volume.
‘He actually has a boyfriend,’ said Charlie, putting on a stupid high-pitched voice as he said the last word. And they all laughed like this was in some way funny.
‘I bet you it’s that Cillian,’ said Robbie. ‘I saw him carrying around some paintbrushes yesterday. He’s so gay.’
That is not only obnoxious and hateful, it makes no sense at all. Why would carrying around paintbrushes be gay? Does that mean all artists and decorators are gay? It’s ridiculous. I was going to turn around and say something to them but then Ian Cliff left Small Paula and started talking to the entire workshop so I couldn’t. He started talking about the power of political songwriting, which made me realise that this is something Hey Dollface could look into. So far all our songs have been about personal woes. But maybe we should turn our attention to the wider world. I mean, thanks to Miss Kelly we definitely know a lot about climate change. I will think more about this.
So … I think I might have been wrong about Lucy. In fact, I know I was. I feel a bit stupid. Especially for wondering if she was jealous because she thought I was after Sam. But really, she was a bit silly too.
Here’s what happened. The camp was great today. We had a really good workshop with Eli Gavroche about mixing up musical genres. And Niall from Puce was trying out another new look. He was wearing a sort of headband, and I think he almost pulled it off. Of course, I heard Charlie and Co dropping stupid comments, but Niall didn’t seem to care, which is cool.
Anyway, afterwards I set off into town to get a present for Rachel like the good sister I am. So, after bidding farewell to my pals, I headed over to the bus stop. When I saw Lucy waiting there, my stomach dropped. It’s not like I didn’t like her, as I said. It’s just I always feel – or at least, I felt – awkward around her, because I think – or thought – she didn’t like me. And I knew I couldn’t avoid talking to her at the bus stop because we do know each other now, even though we’ve never actually talked on our own before. Also, she was the only person at the bus stop. Anyway, as I approached the stop, I raised my hand in greeting but she looked straight past me, as usual. And just as I was starting to feel annoyed and insulted, she rummaged around in her bag, took out a pair of rather nice glasses and put them on. Then she looked straight at me in a surprised way and said, ‘Oh, hi!’
‘Hey,’ I said. And then, because I couldn’t think of anything else to say, I said, ‘I didn’t know you wore glasses.’
Lucy looked embarrassed.
‘Oh, yeah,’ she said. ‘I do.’
‘Do you just need them for reading or something?’ I said.
Lucy looked a bit pink.
‘Um, not exactly,’ she said. ‘I … I’m actually pretty short-sighted.’
‘Oh,’ I said, confused. ‘So why don’t you wear your specs? At the camp, I mean.’
‘Ah,’ said Lucy. ‘I’ve sort of stopped wearing them. I mean, I decided I wasn’t going to wear them at the summer camp.’
‘Really?’ I said. ‘Um, but why?’
Lucy looked even more embarrassed. ‘I just … I dunno.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I knew I was going to be meeting loads of new people, and I didn’t want to be thought of as “someone who wears glasses”. I wanted to start afresh.’
I can understand wanting to start afresh. After all, I did get that fringe. But this seemed like a rather drastic way of doing it. My fringe might look ridiculous (though I really think it might actually be getting longer at last), but at least I can still, you know, see.
‘But no one thinks like that!’ I said. ‘Just look at Cass. She has glasses, and she looks cool. Doesn’t she?’
‘Yeah, she does,’ said Lucy. ‘And I know it’s stupid. I just thought I’d look better without them. Although I can’t really tell, because I can’t see myself in the mirror unless I’m right next to it.’
‘Well, you do look good without them,’ I said. ‘But you look just as good with them! They’re really nice glasses.’
‘Thanks,’ said Lucy. ‘Oh, I dunno. I just feel people see me as, you know, a specky person. And I wanted to see what it’d be like if they didn’t.’
‘Is there a big difference?’ I said.
‘Not really,’ she said. ‘Apart from not being able to see things if they’re, like, a metre away from me. I’m starting to think it was a pretty stupid idea.’
A thought struck me.
‘So does this mean that you can’t see people properly, in the corridors and stuff?’ I said.
‘Yeah,’ said Lucy. ‘Oh God, have I been ignoring you?’
‘Well, kind of,’ I admitted.
‘Oh no,’ said Lucy. ‘I’m so sorry. Sam said this would happen. But I was sure I wasn’t quite that blind. I mean, I can recognise people when they’re right next to me. It’s just hard to focus on their faces.’
‘You did sometimes look as if you were staring over my shoulder,’ I admitted.
‘Oh God,’ said Lucy. She buried her face in her hands. ‘I’m a total fool.’
‘No, of course you’re not,’ I said. ‘I do understand. But how have you managed to do all the drawing in the art course if you can’t see?’
‘I just lean right over the page,’ said Lucy. ‘Things almost look better that way, so I don’t mind.’ She sighed. ‘It all sounds so silly when I say it out loud.’
So there you go. Lucy isn’t rude. She was just trying to reinvent herself. And yes, she did it in a rather silly way, but I can understand where she was coming from. Just as I dreamed of starting the camp as a person with a glossy new fringe, she dreamed of starting it as a person without specs. Anyway, we had a really good chat on the bus. She is definitely not into Sam. She says they are like brother and sister because they have been friends since they were tiny. I did not bring this up, by the way. She did because she was talking about some of the boys on the course and said the only downside of her friendship with Sam is that people tend to think they are a couple. Which has been annoying when either of them actually likes someone else. Not that I think she really does like anyone else on the course. At least there are two of us.
Anyway, this all meant that what I thought would be a very awkward bus journey stuck talking to someone I didn’t think liked me was actually pretty fun. I might even have made another new friend. I told her about having to buy Rachel a birthday present, and she suggested this really nice, cool nail varnish you can only get in one shop in the Jervis Centre so I decided to get Rachel that and a book. Which I think is a good balance of presents. AND she’s getting my song as well. I truly am a much more noble sister than Rachel. I can’t even remember what she got me last year.
Just remembered that Rachel actually got me a really nice top for my birthday last year. Hmmm. Perhaps she isn’t so bad after all.
Also, it is my birthday in a few weeks so hopefully when I give her the nice present it will inspire her to get me something even better.
Lucy wore her glasses in the camp today. She said she felt a bit stupid going around without them now I knew she couldn’t see properly. I think she thought other people were going to stare or make a fuss but, actually, people hardly noticed, apart from a few ‘Oh, cool glasses’ or, of course, ‘I didn’t know you wore glasses.’ If we knew each other better, I would have been tempted to point out that really she should have done this two and a half weeks ago, but I knew it wouldn’t make her feel any better so I didn’t say anything.
In other news, we got the line-ups for our shows next week. Richard’s band are one of the first to play, on Wednesday − the same day as the Crack Parrots (ugh). We’re playing with both the Paulas (Tall and Small) on Friday, the very last day. Which is kind of cool, because I think if we were doing it on, say, Thursday, the last day would feel a bit anticlimactic. And this also gives us even more time to perfect our songs, including all the new ones we’ve written over the course of the camp.
Oh, and Rachel loved her birthday present (I thanked Lucy for the polish recommendation today). After I presented her with the physical part of it this morning, I wasn’t sure I was going to sing her the song. After all, I had really only come up with it because I wasn’t going to spend money on a present. We are not usually a family who declare our affection for each other seriously. But then I thought of how much time I’d spent on it and it seemed like a bit of a waste not to actually sing it.
‘I have an extra present too,’ I said. ‘It’s a special song, written just for you. Just don’t take it too seriously,’ I added, lest all my praise go to her head. And I sang it to her. I tried my best not to sound sarcastic, but it was quite difficult as I don’t praise her very often. But it was her birthday and I had gone to the trouble of writing it. She had a strange look on her face, and I had a funny feeling she was going to start laughing, but, at the end, she seemed quite pleased and gave me a hug.
‘I could even record it for you if you like,’ I said. ‘We’ve still got a fair bit of studio time
at the camp.’
‘Oh, that’s all right,’ said Rachel. ‘Your beautiful live singing is enough.’ She was joking, but I didn’t mind. I suppose she is okay really.
And, speaking of my songs, I’ve written some lyrics for that song we were working on on Tuesday. It’s called ‘Living in a Bubble’, and it’s my first song with a political theme. I think it is quite powerful.
The planet is in trouble
But you’re living in a bubble
And I’m not sure that you mind
You don’t care for the environment
You’re worse than any government
Can you really be that blind?
CHORUS
Polar bears and giant waves
We’ve got a big old world to save
Polar bears and giant waves
If we can’t save the world, we’ll have to live in caves
The honey bees are dying
When they should be out there flying
But I’m not sure that you care
The weather’s going mad
But you think it’s just a fad
Not a terrible nightmare
CHORUS
Polar bears and giant waves
We’ve got a big old world to save
Polar bears and giant waves
If we can’t save the world, we’ll have to live in caves
We’ve got to take it seriously
Although we haven’t previously