Page 53 of Seven Letters

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Riley was sitting under the big tree near the athletics track, pretending to read Ingrid Betancourt’s account of being kidnapped by the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia while campaigning for the Colombian presidency. She was actually trying to do good, and then she was kept captive for six and a half years before she was finally rescued by Colombian security forces. Stuff like that actually mattered. People like Ingrid Betancourt tried to change the world. How dare Zach tell her she was too intense? How could you just skip through life caring more about jumping over a stupid metal bar than anything else?

Riley fumed inwardly and decided she deserved better. She deserved a boyfriend who knew and cared about the important things in life. Someone who shared her passion for causes that mattered. Who, though? Most of the guys she knew were either sports jocks or maths geeks. The only in-between types were like Shocko and, much as she loved him, she couldn’t fancy him if she tried. He was like a brother, he was kind and loyal and, as her mum said, those were two of the most important qualities in a friend.

Riley tried to concentrate on her book, but she was really watching Zoë practise her hurdles. She had to admit she was good – she had great technique and was fast – but she still looked like a complete dork.

Sports Barbie, Riley thought darkly. Her fake-tanned legs were a deep shade of mahogany. And who the hell does athletics with lip gloss on?

The sports coach looked at his stopwatch and whooped.He went over to high-five Zoë. ‘That’s your best time this season,’ he gushed.

Zoë beamed. Perfect teeth. Those braces she’d worn for two years had paid off. Riley’s front teeth had a gap between them. The orthodontist had said he could close it but, in his opinion, it was charming. Mia had agreed, mainly because it was going to save her a lot of money in dental fees.

Mia told Riley she was like some famous supermodel called Lauren Hutton. Riley looked her up, but she was about three hundred years old. So Mia went online and found Elizabeth Jagger and started banging on about her. But Elizabeth Jagger was drop-dead gorgeous, so her gapdidlook cute. Riley was not drop-dead anything. Well, she was drop-dead boring, according to Zach. Anyway, her gap wasn’t cute. She hated it. Zach had said he liked it, and for a while, Riley had liked it too, but now she knew everything he’d said was a lie, so she hated her gap again.

Zoë stretched her long, toned limbs. Riley looked down at her own pale, thin arms. Maybe she should take up a sport. But she hated all of them. Her mum had made her play tennis and hockey, and there had been a brief period when she’d dragged Riley to hip-hop dance classes. It had been mortifying. Riley had no rhythm. She just couldn’t co-ordinate her arms and legs in time to the music. After three sessions of complete humiliation she went on hunger strike. Of course, her mum wouldn’t budge. She said she’d paid for ten sessions and Riley was going to do them, by hook or by crook. But her dad had taken pity on her and stepped in. ‘What’s the point of making her go?’ he’d said. ‘All it does is cause a huge argument every week. Let’s just write it off as a bad investment.’

Riley did feel bad about the cost of the lessons, but she’d never wanted to go in the first place so it wasn’t really her problem.

Riley tried to focus on Ingrid Betancourt’s struggles incaptivity. It was all getting a bit repetitive. She knew it wasn’t Ingrid’s fault, obviously. If you’re held captive for six years tied to a tree, there isn’t a whole lot of variety to your days. Apart from that, she was distracted by the sound of Zoë’s voice, which was being carried to her by the breeze. She was talking to her fellow hurdler and sports Barbie, Kaitlin.

‘Yes, it is.’ Zoë touched her neck.

‘OMG, it’s a seriously big love-bite,’ Kaitlin said, sounding impressed. ‘He’s like a vampire.’

‘He just can’t get enough of me.’ Zoë giggled.

Riley clenched the book between her hands. She was hidden by a heavy, leafy branch.

‘You guys are just, like, the perfect couple. You look amazeballs together,’ Kaitlin said.

‘Awww, you are so sweet to say that. He’s so amazing and so much fun.’

‘I still can’t believe he went out with Riley for so long – I mean, seriously?’

‘I know. He said he was going through a phase and that she was challenging, which he thought was kind of cool but ended up being a total drag.’

‘She’s so, like, angry all the time. Seriously, why doesn’t she just chillax and enjoy life?’

‘I know,’ Zoë said, applying more lip gloss to her already glossy lips. ‘She’s all dark and dreary. Lighten up, dude!’

They chortled. ‘Yeah, stop being a Debbie Downer all the time.’ Kaitlin cracked up at her own joke.

‘That’s what we should nickname her, DD, Debbie Downer.’ Zoë grinned.

Riley sank down lower behind the foliage. Bitches. How dare Zach say she was a ‘phase’ and a ‘drag’?

Tears landed on Ingrid Betancourt’s words. Riley rubbed them away roughly. She’d let Zach in. She’d opened herself upto him and let him touch her, not just physically but emotionally too. Thankfully, she hadn’t had sex with him. At least she had that to hold on to. He couldn’t say she was a conquest or that she was bad in bed because she hadn’t slept with him.

But the hardest part for her was that she’d told him how difficult she found her mother, how she wanted to be close to her but clashed with her all the time. She’d told him it hurt her deep down and she wanted to change their relationship, but they kept locking horns over and over again. He was the only person she’d ever confided that to, and now he’d stamped all over it.

She felt sick when she thought of telling Zach about her hopes and her dreams of becoming a journalist, like her dad. Riley wanted to work for theGuardianin London. She wanted to uncover breaking stories, expose fraudsters, crooks, corrupt regimes … She had stupidly told Zach all of this. All of these intensely personal things were now in danger of being exposed to and ridiculed by a stupid, insensitive Barbie doll.

‘Riley?’

Damn it. Riley pulled her hair down over her face and turned. It was the headmistress of her senior school, Mrs Moloney, and the headmistress of the junior school, Mrs Kelly, who was also her mum’s boss. ‘We’ve been looking for you,’ Mrs Moloney said.

‘We heard about your aunt and we wanted to see how you were doing,’ Mrs Kelly said gently.

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