1. Lloyd Layton will know I exist. He once said three whole words to me, so this is obviously progress. If I don’t get a proper conversation out of him soon, then I’ll take my top off and streak through the cafeteria, because nobody could fail to notice these boobs.
2. I will not get expelled for streaking through the cafeteria.”
Those are the words that begin her mission.
Chessie is fourteen, not pretty enough, and very much in love. Lloyd Layton is hot, popular, and unaware of Chessie’s existence.
Her goal is clear: to get Lloyd to love her as much as she loves him, and she has exactly one year to do it.
As Chessie’s obsession with Lloyd reaches boiling point and she starts to spin a web of lies that spiral out of control, Lloyd turns out to be not quite the prince she thought he was. Can Chessie avoid the gathering storm before things go too far?
In technology that afternoon, I’m not concentrating on the block of wood I’m supposed to be sawing, and I don’t even realise I’m still moving the saw until Debs clicks her fingers in my face and says, “Chessie, what are you doing?”
Oops.
I look down and the saw is halfway through the workbench. It’s embedded. In fact, it’s downright stuck. I pull and wiggle it but it won’t come out.
Oh, hell. Why do I always manage to mess something up?
I stick my hand up in the air and hope the teacher won’t make a scene about it. It was an accident, after all. I really don’t need Lloyd thinking that this is another lesson that I’m totally incompetent in. Is it too much to ask that he might think I’m good at something? Even just one thing?
“Miss Clemenfield?” Mr Vale asks in his most patronising voice.
“Sir, I, um, had a little accident,” I say, stepping back so he can see the saw that’s gone right through the wooden workbench.
“Oh dear. A little overzealous with the sawing, were we?”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I thought I was still doing my block. My mind was somewhere else.”
“Thinking about boys, no doubt, eh? I know what kids your age are like.”
I’m just about to put in that I was actually thinking about ways to improve our technology lessons when suddenly Mr Vale’s voice is booming around the classroom.
“Everybody, gather round,” he’s saying, and gesturing with his hand to come over to our table.
Thirty students gather around us. I can feel Lloyd’s imposing frame right behind me. If I leaned back a little I’d be touching him. I wish I had the courage to do that. I wish we were friends. I wish he’d comfort me and tell me that it doesn’t matter that I’ve embarrassed myself yet again and the teacher is making a scene about it. But I don’t really get a chance, because Mr Vale prods me out of the way a little too forcefully, and I fall off my stool. I go to grab something to hold me up, and horror of horrors, I grab at the one thing that I never wanted to meet with in this way.
I have grabbed Lloyd Layton’s crotch.
Oh, crap.
The entire class is practically rolling on the floor in fits of giggles, and up until now, I would have thought it humanly impossible to turn red so fast.
It occurs to me that it might be a good idea to let go, and I drop my hand and jump back like I’ve been burnt.
Even the teacher is laughing. I don’t dare to look up at Lloyd, but I would imagine he’s gone bright red too. At least he’s not laughing like all the others.
“Sorry,” I mumble in an upward direction, and settle myself back on my stool, trying in vain to hide my head in my hands.
“That’s enough excitement for one day,” Mr Vale says finally, even though he’s still giggling himself. “I just wanted you all to see what happens when someone like Miss Clemenfield pays more attention to Mr Layton’s work than to her own.”
Crap. He noticed that?
Oh well, I don’t see what it matters because my face cannot get any redder right now.
Eventually the class file away and Mr Vale removes the saw from the bench and hands it back to me with a grin. I sneak a glance over towards Lloyd. There is a definite hint of a blush in his cheeks.
Great, not only do I embarrass myself beyond belief but I make him feel bad too.
Perfect.
“At least you can’t say he hasn’t noticed you anymore,” Debs whispers.
“Thank you. That makes me feel so much better.”
Not Pretty Enough is a contemporary young adult comedy suitable for ages thirteen and over.
Book two in the series will be released early 2014.
lives in South Wales and enjoys writing, gardening, drinking tea and watching horror movies. She hates spiders and cheese & onion crisps. She has been writing for years but has never before plucked up the courage to tell people. Afterlife Academy is her third novel and she hopes you enjoy it. There are plenty more on the way!