I HAD to stop Matt and Zaiynab finding out. Being an elf was bad enough, lying to their faces about it was even worse.
“You sure everything’s OK?” Matt looked worried. “We normally avoid the canteen like the plague.”
AND NORMALLY I WOULD AVOID HAVING A FAMILY WHO DRESS UP AS CHRISTMAS FOOD ITEMS AND SING ABOUT ELVES, BUT HERE WE ARE, GUYS. HERE WE ARE.
But I didn’t know what to do other than escape, so I said bye and ran out of the lunch hall before anyone could shout anything else. I stayed in the loos until the bell went for the start of the end of term entertainment. I snuck into our assembly hall with my head down and grabbed a chair by TJ from netball. Only ninety minutes left to survive. It was usual end of term happy chaos and I felt like a miserable Halloween skeleton who’d wandered into a Christmas party. But luckily no one around me noticed my complete slump, as they were too busy chatting and weaving tinsel into each other’s hair and singing along with our music teacher’s piano rendition of “Underneath the Tree”.
But I just wanted it to be over. I didn’t even smile when our geography teacher came onstage dressed as a Christmas tree and apologized for flashing. He meant his lights, but the whole school burst out laughing and he ran offstage clutching his baubles.
And I didn’t laugh when the sixth formers did the annual comedy sketch about our teachers.
The only thing that made me smile was Grace doing her amazing Nutcracker dance. She got a standing ovation, and I clapped so hard my hands hurt. But the second she ran into the wings I collapsed back into my chair in more of a slump than ever. Thinking of how excited she was to perform the dance in front of her dad at Grampy G’s Grotto made my heart hurt. And my head spin. I needed to find a venue. Fast.
I still hadn’t found one that was available, and time was running out.
“And now for the grand finale!” Ms Allen, our head teacher, shouted into the mic. “Something to start the holidays off with a bang. So, let’s welcome to the stage, a last-minute entry … who only put their name forward today … St Augustine’s very own … Adele!” No one moved. I got back to thinking about the venue. Should I try the yurt place again?
Ouch! Why was TJ prodding my knee? “Go you!” she said, looking at me.
In fact, everyone was looking at me. And clapping.
“I said …” Ms Allen cleared her throat. “Let’s welcome up MOLLY BELL! Or as we now know her … LITTLE ELF GIRL!”
The blood drained from my body.
What was happening?!
I put a hand out, the room suddenly spinning.
Elf Girl, Elf Girl, Elf Girl.
I looked left, right, behind me. Everyone was chanting.
Was I walking to the stage?!
Elf Girl! Elf Girl! Elf Girl! The Year 7s were screaming.
This couldn’t be real?! But I was staggering along the hall towards the stage. And up the stairs.
Ms Allen pushed the mic into my hand. Was I really going to sing that stupid song? For the first time in seven years?
The music teacher played the opening chords.
I scanned the huge hall. All the faces I knew so well. Some smiling, some laughing, some excited to see how bad this would be. Simon was sneakily filming on his phone. Was this his doing?!
The students, the teachers, everyone was clapping along. Except for Zaiynab and Matt. They looked almost as shocked as me.
But then the big wooden door at the side of the hall swung open. And through it ran Grace. Her hands held up in a heart.
I smiled at her. Leant into the mic. Opened my mouth. And…
“I’m sorry, I can’t!” I spluttered. The piano immediately stopped. The clapping too. “But, happy Christmas!” Oh no. Was I crying? I was crying. “And Grace, you were amazing.” I sniffed, but I was too close to the mic and it echoed round the hall. “A-a-a-nd make sure you ask her for raffle tickets for the Sleigh Another Day auction for Grampy G.”
And that’s when I ran out.
I’d never made hundreds of people go silent before.
But I guess I could add that to my list of achievements for this year.
Make a complete fool of myself in front of entire school. TICK.
Bonus points for being bright red as I did it. TICK TICK.
Kiss goodbye to my dream of being part of The POWR. DING DING DING – JACKPOT.
I was running. Sprinting down the corridors, jumping down the stairs four at a time until I found the perfect place to hide. The tiny art room cupboard. It was packed with reindeer and tinsel but there was space for one small sad person. One small sad elf. One small sad elf who needed a proper big sob.
I only stopped ugly crying when Grace rang to check I was OK. I told her I was researching divorcing my family, changing my name and signing up for a one-way flight to Mars. And she said that was fine, and she’d always wanted to visit Mars anyway.
Which stopped me crying for a bit, so she tried to cheer me up with her big news. She’d been messaging Harry (which cheered me up quite a lot tbf) and he’d said yes to Grace’s ideas – asking Elijah if he could get one of the cast to donate a meet and greet as an auction prize. I said it sounded awesome. I didn’t say that I didn’t hold out much hope considering what he’d said about Maeve and Joseph hating press events. And I definitely didn’t say that thinking about Grampy’s Grotto and the mess I’d made had instantly dissolved any speck of cheer all over again. Instead I said bye and left messages for every single venue I hadn’t heard from and waited.
Waited until I couldn’t hear any more footsteps outside and the coast was clear.
But when I trudged outside, bags dangling off me in every direction, there was one person still there.
My mum. Pulled up by the gates. In Cara.
The passenger door was already open and for once, the Christmas lights weren’t turned on.
