Girls in Tears
Jacqueline Wilson
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One Girls cry when they're happy
Chapter Two Girls cry when their friends say mean things
Chapter Three Girls cry when their pets die
Chapter Four Girls cry when they hate the way they look
Chapter Five Girls cry when people copy their ideas
Chapter Six Girls cry when things go wrong at home
Chapter Seven Girls cry when their friends have secrets
Chapter Eight Girls cry when their friends say they're fat
Chapter Nine Girls cry when they quarrel with their friends
Chapter Ten Girls cry when their boyfriends don't understand
Chapter Eleven Girls cry when their dreams come true!
Chapter Twelve Girls cry when their boyfriends betray them
Chapter Thirteen Girls cry when their hearts are breaking, breaking, breaking
Chapter Fourteen Girls cry when they're lonely
Chapter Fifteen Girls cry when they wake up and remember
Chapter Sixteen Girls cry when they're sorry
Chapter Seventeen Girls cry when everything ends happily ever after
About the Author
About the Illustrator
GIRLS
IN
TEARS
It's great when you have a best friend. It can be even better when you have two best friends. Ellie, Magda and Nadine are in Year Nine and they make a fantastic threesome. I invented them in the space of half an hour! I was staying at my daughter, Emma's flat, and she was patiently teaching me how to use her computer. I am a total technophobe and a very slow learner. I found myself getting very upset and irritable as I struggled with her unfamiliar keyboard, making all sorts of silly mistakes.
I decided to distract myself by making up a new story. I wanted to write about teenagers for a change. I typed Three girls on Emma's computer. I thought about my first girl. I liked the name Ellie so I typed that too. I decided she would tell the story. I wanted her to be lively and creative and very good at art. I didn't want her to be a super-girl with a fabulous figure and absolutely everything going for her. I decided she'd be an ordinary comfy girl size – so she'd worry a bit about getting fat. I gave her little round glasses and a lot of wild, curly dark hair. I liked her a lot.
I felt that Ellie might have a weird, cool gothic girl as one of her friends. I found my fingers typing the name Nadine. She'd be into alternative music and wear black all the time and be much more daring than Ellie. She'd also be one of those irritating girls who could stuff Mars bars all day and still stay as thin as a pin.
I wanted my third girl to be a bright, blonde, bubbly girl, full of fun. I called her Magda. I thought she'd be boy-mad, a little bit spoilt, but basically a great friend to Ellie and Nadine.
There! I had my three girls sorted out by the time I'd typed a page. I found I'd mastered the new keyboard – and I was all set to start my story!
There are four stories about Ellie, Magda and Nadine. Girls in Tears is the fourth book in the series. Ellie and Magda and Nadine all end up in floods of tears. They even break friends – will they ever make up again?
GIRLS
IN
TEARS
Jacqueline Wilson
Illustrated by Nick Sharratt
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ISBN 9781407043043
Version 1.0
www.randomhouse.co.uk
GIRLS IN TEARS
A CORGI BOOK
ISBN: 9781407043043
Version 1.0
First published in Great Britain by Doubleday
an imprint of Random House Children's Books
A Random House Group Company
Doubleday edition published 2002
First Corgi edition published 2003
This Corgi edition published 2007
1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2
Copyright © Jacqueline Wilson, 2002
Illustrations copyright © Nick Sharratt, 2002
The right of Jacqueline Wilson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This electronic book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
For Rosemary, Vicky, Stacey, Kayleigh, Lizzie,
Lauren, Mhairi, Rupal, Sarah Jane,
Billy, Farah and all my friends on Ward 27
And this is also in memory of two very special girls,
Robina and Jo
Chapter One
Girls cry when
they're happy
One
Girls cry when
they're happy
You'll never ever guess what! I'm so happy happy happy. I want to laugh, sing, shout, even have a little cry. I can't wait to tell Magda and Nadine.
I go down to breakfast and sip coffee and nibble dry toast, my hand carefully displayed beside my plate.
I wait for someone to notice. I smile blithely at my dad and my stepmum Anna over breakfast. I even smile at my little brother Eggs, though he has a cold and deeply unattractive green slime dribbling out of his nostrils.
'Why are you grinning at me like that, Ellie?' Eggs asks me thickly, chomping very strawberry-jammy toast. We've run out of butter, so Anna's let him have double jam instead. 'Stop looking at me.'
'I don't want to look at you, little Runny Nose. You are not a pretty sight.'
'I don't want to be pretty,' says Eggs, sniffing so snortily that we all protest.
'For goodness' sake, son, you're putting me right off my breakfast,' Dad says, swatting at Eggs with his Guardian.
'Get a tissue, Eggs,' says Anna, sketching maniacally on a pad.
OK, maybe it's too much to expect Dad and Eggs to notice but I was sure Anna would spot it straight away.
'There aren't any tissues,' Eggs says triumphantly, breathing in and out to make his nose bubble.
'Oh God, no, that's right. I didn't get to Waitrose yesterday,' says Anna. 'OK, Eggs, use loo-roll instead.'
'I haven't got any,' says Eggs, looking round as if he expects Andrex puppies to trot right into our kitchen trailing toilet paper like the adverts. 'What's that you're drawing, Mum? Is it a rabbit? Let's look.'
He pulls at Anna's paper. Anna hangs on. The paper tears in two.
'Oh, for God's sake, Eggs, I've been working on that wretched bunnies-in-bed design since six this morning!' Anna shouts. 'Now go to the loo and get some paper and blow your nose this instant. I am sick of you, do you hear me?'
'He's crying, Anna,' says Dad.
'I know,' says Anna, starting to sketch on a new piece of paper.
'What's the matter with you? Why be so snappy with him? He only wanted to look,' says Dad, folding up his newspaper. He stands, looking martyred. 'I'm going to comfort poor little Eggs.'
'Yes, you do that,' says Anna, through gritted teeth. 'He is actually your son too, though when he woke five times in the night with his stuffed-up nose I seem to remember you remained happily snoring.'
'No wonder his nose is stuffed up if the poor little kid can't blow it. Why on earth have we run out of everything like tissues and butter? I would have thought they were basic domestic necessities.'
'Yes, they are,' says Anna, still drawing – but her hand is trembling. 'And they generally appear as if by magic in this house because one of us slogs off to the supermarket every week.'
I can't stand this. My happy bubble is on the brink of bursting. My magic hand clenches. What's the matter with Dad and Anna and Eggs? Why won't they lighten up? Why can't Dad offer to do the weekly shop? Why can't Anna watch her tongue? Why can't Eggs blow his sniffly little nose? Why does it all have to turn into a stupid scene with Dad shouting, Anna near tears, Eggs already howling?
I'm the teenager. I'm the one who should be shouting and shrieking all over the place. Yet look at me! I'm little Ellie Ever-so Effervescent because – oh because because because!
I stretch out my hand, fingers extended, in a totally obvious gesture. Anna looks up. She looks at me. She looks at my hand. But her blue eyes are blank. She can only see her boring bedtime bunnies.
I grab my rucksack and say goodbye to Anna and Dad. They hardly notice me. I find Eggs drooping in the downstairs toilet, and give him a quick hug. Big mistake. He leaves a little slime trail on my school blazer where he has snuffled his nose. Then he looks up at me.
'Why are you being nice to me, Ellie?' he asks suspiciously.
It's a waste of time acting Miss Sweetness and Light in my family. I might just as well be mean and moody. 'OK, when I come back home I'll be very very nasty,' I hiss at Eggs, baring my teeth and making strangling movements with my hands.
He giggles nervously, not quite sure whether I'm joking. I reach out to ruffle his hair but he ducks. I smile at him and rush off, not wanting to listen to the row in the kitchen a second longer.
Dad and Anna have started to act almost as if they hate each other. It's getting a bit scary. It's weird to think that when Dad first married Anna I couldn't stand her. I'd have given anything to break them up. I thought Anna was all that's awful. I was just a little kid. I wasn't ready to be fair. I hated her simply because I felt she was trying to take my mum's place.
Mum died when I was little. I still think about her every day. Not all the time – just in little wistful moments. I like to talk to her inside my head and she talks back to me. I know it's just me, of course. But it's still a comfort.
I used to think that every time I went on a shopping trip with Anna or curled up on a sofa with her to watch Friends I was being grossly mean and disloyal to Mum. It made me feel so bad. Then I'd turn on Anna and make her feel bad too. But now I can see how skewed that sort of thinking is. I can like Anna lots and still love my mum. Simple.
After all, I've had two best friends for ever and a day and I don't fuss whether I like Nadine or Magda best. I like them both and they like me and I can't wait to show them!
I run for the bus, wanting to get to school early. As I charge round the corner, rucksack flying, I barge straight into that blond guy I used to have such a crush on. My Dream Man – only it turned out he's gay. Anyway, even if he wasn't, he's years older than me and so incredibly gorgeous he wouldn't dream of going out with a tubby Year Nine schoolgirl with frizzy hair and glasses and a tendency to blush pillar-box red every ten minutes.
Oh God, I'm blushing now. He grins at me. 'Hi. You're the girl who's always in a rush,' he says.
'I'm so sorry. Did I hit you in the kneecaps with my rucksack?'
'Possibly. But I'll forgive you. You must be very keen to get to school!'
I raise an eyebrow. Well, I hope I do. Maybe I'm just contorting my face into a leering squint. 'I don't really go a bundle on school. I'm not exactly the studious type. No, I just want to see my friends.'
'Right. Yeah, I envy girls – they always share so much with their friends. Guys have their mates, sure, but they don't seem to get so close,' he says. 'Oh well, see you around.'
'Yes, see you. And I'll try not to barge right into you next time.'
I waltz on my way, swinging my rucksack. I'm really getting to know him. He's so lovely. A few months ago I'd have been absolutely over the moon, soaring above the stars, pirouetting around the planets, swooping way past the sun. Now it's great, but it's no big deal. He's just a pal. I know he's got a boyfriend – and so have I.
Russell means more to me than the most gorgeous guy in the whole world. No – he is the most gorgeous guy, I know he is. I think the world of him. He thinks the world of me too. I know he does. He proved it last night. Wait till I tell Magda and Nadine!
I run and catch the bus and get to school so early that they're not there yet! This is the very first time in two and a half years that I've ever got to school before them. This is definitely a day with a difference.
Come on, Magda and Nadine! Where are you? There are a few girls in the classroom, the keen ones, like Amna. I wonder what it would be like to be seriously brainy like her, top of the class all the time. But she isn't as good as me at Art, and that's really all that matters to me.
I love Art so much. Dad teaches at the Art College. People say I take after him. I don't like to think that. I take after my mum. She was artistic too. I've still got a wonderful picture book she made me when I was little, full of lovely little stories about a tiny mouse called Myrtle. She has big purple ears and a little lilac face with a pointy pink nose and blue whiskers to match her bright blue tail.
I feel a sudden pang thinking about Myrtle. Maybe I can try doing little pictures of her myself. I love playing around and inventing little cartoon creatures. My favourite creation is Ellie Elephant, modelled on myself. I am not teeny-weeny mouse size. I am of great galumphing pachyderm proportions, but I have decided not to care.
I did go on this crazy diet last term and drove everyone crazy too. I was a kind of crazy girl myself, going bananas if I ate anything other than a spoonful of cottage cheese and a lettuce leaf. I certainly wouldn't eat bananas, at seventy-five calories per piece.
At last! Nadine glides into the classroom, dark eyes gleaming, long black hair framing her chalk-white face. Nadine manages to look Queen of the Goths even in her school sweater and skirt. Though her face isn't utterly colourless today. She's got pink spots on her cheeks. This is the only external sign when Nadine is seriously excited. She struggles to keep her face as blank as a mask – but her eyes have got a witchy glitter.
I wave at her, waggling my fingers extravagantly. She's not looking at me properly. She just waggles her own black-pearl nails back at me. 'You'll never ever guess what, Ellie!' she says.
I can't get a word in edgeways to tell her my amazing news!
Chapter Two
Girls cry when
their friends
say mean things
Two
Girls cry when
their Friends say mean things
This is so typical of Nadine! I love her dearly but she always has to upstage me. When we were tiny girls and I was thrilled to get my first ever Barbie doll, the standard little-girly version, Nadine got a special collector's Queen of the Night Barbie with long hair and a beautiful deep blue dress. She was supposed to be kept in pristine condition in her plastic case, but Nadine got her out and combed her luxuriant hair a
nd made her fly through the air, deep blue skirts billowing, as she cast wondrous spells and made up enchantments. My own homespun everyday Barbie couldn't possibly compete. Nadine's Queen of the Night Barbie wouldn't make friends with mine. She said she was much too dull and boring, unable to do the simplest spell. She was only suited to be a servant. So my Barbie had to perform humble and lowly tasks for the Queen of the Night. She didn't like it one bit – and neither did I.
Then Nadine's mum discovered the Queen of the Night had tangles in her hair and a rip in her skirt because she'd been making magic too enthusiastically. The Queen of the Night was confiscated and confined to her plastic palace and Nadine wasn't allowed out to play for a fortnight. Nadine didn't care. She hung out of her bedroom window and wailed pathetically to startled passers-by in the street, 'Help me! My cruel mother has locked me up and thrown away the key!'
I was allowed my very first pair of clumpy high heels to wear at the school disco when I was ten – but Nadine came with real pointy Goth boots with spiky stiletto heels. She fell over three times while we were dancing but she still managed to look incredibly cool.
