Jenny's Challenge

Jenny was going to a party and I wasn’t invited. I walked her to the bus stop that evening, she with her fair hair up and smelling somewhat more of perfume than she usually did. Her black dress, stockings and high heels were most unlike her customary sports kit or gym clothes, so much so it was enough to quicken my heartbeat. In fact I couldn’t keep my eyes off her, and she seemed to notice because at last she said:

“This is something you’re going to have to get used to. If you’re serious about doing this for a long time with me, I will be going to the kind of functions that require adult clothing. Don’t forget I am quite grown-up,” she added importantly.

I burned with shame to be so addressed by her. Somehow she always seemed to forget she was younger than me!

“You know I'd like to go on doing this, Jenny,” I told her. “Maybe you shouldn’t forget I’ve been keeping up with my netball lessons, just because that’s what you want.”

“Well, there must be a way you can improve,” she returned. “Even though you’re so behind.”

Was she enjoying this? You could never tell with Jenny but the thought flashed hotly into my mind when she said that. Was all this just another way to tease me? I was so sick of this girl having all the power in our relationship, if you could even call it that!

We sat down at the bus stop and waited together.

“People think I’m the older one out of us,” Jenny resumed presently. “In fact my parents think I’m too old for you.”

“I can’t imagine anyone thinking that!” I told her a little crossly.

“Well they do,” returned the smug girl. “Because I’m a PE student who’s doing well and you’re not. You’d make a better couple with my little sister!” she added with her infuriating giggle.

I flushed. Jenny wasn’t finished yet. “Actually even then people would think you were younger than her,” she slipped in airily.

Now that really was going too far! Before I could say anything though her bus arrived and she skipped on board without me.

I couldn’t stop fuming over what she’d said so eventually decided to put in for advanced netball tryouts, just to prove to Jenny she wasn’t the only one who could go up a grade. My big mistake was mentioning this to Emily when we were having tea, because immediately she announced she’d drive me there on the day, and immediately after that started matchmaking again and insisted I ask Morgan to come and watch too.

That of course started me off complaining about that little Missy, which wasn’t surprising after the way she’d behaved when we were last both at Emily’s. “She shouldn’t kiss like that though, not while we’re both waiting,” I affirmed with a sigh. “It’s not at all fair on me. As for the way she doesn’t even seem to mind being defined by her underwear…! How many pairs has she got, anyway? Every time I think I must have seen them all she always seems to have new ones to show off!”

“Every girl has on average thirty pairs,” Emily informed me. “I know that must seem a lot to you, and no wonder you were surprised! It’s quite normal though that she’s got that many.”

“I, um,” I began, fidgeting. “I really would like it if you’d come and watch when I try out, Mrs. Sparks. I could use the moral support! But, um, also, if you could kind of not mention it to...”

Emily gave me a tender smile.

“Don’t let Suzette tease you just because she’s a girl,” she said softly. “You let her get away with far too much!”

“Well, she’ll tease me more if she finds out about this,” I declared, and I didn’t think Emily could exactly disagree with that. “I’ll end up too scared to go. So, um, please let’s keep it our secret!” I begged, smiling winningly at her and blinking my eyes.

“I don’t know which of the pair of you’s got me more twisted round your little finger,” laughed Emily, but she did finally promise to do as I asked.

It probably goes without saying Jenny and Suzette both found out about it anyway and insisted on coming along, so with Emily and Morgan that brought my total audience up to four. Morgan was wearing her silver pin on her tight sweater, which she wasn’t allowed to do at school.

When tryouts began it turned out there was a problem with the machinery, so we had to go off-court again while it was being mended. This waiting wasn’t doing wonders for my nerves! While we were there, the girls (and I guess “girls” here includes Emily and Jenny!) struck up a conversation, so I ended up chatting to the only other boy who was there.

“You’re lucky,” I told him. “Pretty much all the girls I know have come to watch, I’m going out of my pants!”

He sighed hugely. “You're the one who’s lucky!” he exclaimed. Then he made me point out my supporters and tell him who was who, which I did.

“Seriously, that Emily’s Suzette’s mum not her big sis?” he cried. “You’re totes sure you’re not teasing me about that?”

“I’m totes sure,” I smiled back, “but I can’t believe it either!”

“And you’ve had tea with her,” he groaned, as if the very thought sapped him of all his strength.

“If you win, try to get a kiss off Morgan afterwards,” I advised him. “You’ll love the way she does it.”

“I’d prefer Emily,” groaned the boy.

I was glad to get out of my netball kit when I arrived home, in fact I never wanted to wear it again. I didn’t know why I always had to be the one who lost! All night I fidgeted over this question, and what made it worse was I had a feeling Jenny must be sleeping peacefully. Next morning was Saturday and I was meeting her at the park courts, though she was so late I’d been practicing half an hour before she finally drew up on her bike. What with that, and missing pretty much every shot I’d tried, I was just about as hot and bothered as could be.

“Been having sweet dreams about boys you met at your party?” I accused her.

The delicate little pink blush Jenny assumed at this made me more furious than a million of her maddening giggles would have done.