The Monday Blues

Marian Hoefnagel

Description

Fictionalized accounts of true life stories

Sujets

• Issue
• Real life
• Liste de termes d'argot Internet
• Issues

Informations

• Publié par: Read Zone
• Date de parution: 01 septembre 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781783228560
• Langue: English

Extrait

MONDAY BLUES
ReadZone Books Limited






© copyright in the text Marian Hoefnagel 2008
© copyright in this edition ReadZone Books 2019

Originally published in the Netherlands as Blauwe maandag
© 2007 Uitgeverij Eenvoudig Communiceren, Amsterdam

Translation by Florian Blom

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data (CIP) is available for this title.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of ReadZone Books Limited.

ISBN 978-1-78322-858-4

Printed in Malta by Melita Press

Visit our website: www.readzonebooks.com
MARIAN HOEFNAGEL
MONDAY BLUES
Beer and break-ups
Jesse

Jesse is sitting on a bench. To be exact, he is sitting on the armrest of a bench. Alone. All the other pupils are talking in small groups. It is ten to nine. Almost time to go inside.

Jesse looks around. The kids here look just like they do at home , he thinks. But the thought startles him. No, I shouldn’t think like that. Home, that’s here now. Here, in England.

He drums his fingers against the armrest of the bench. He drums to the beat of the music from his phone.
The music makes him feel calm. He needs that. Because it is not much fun starting a new school in a new country.

‘Sixth Form Colleges here in England are great,’ his mother had said. ‘The teachers aren’t too strict. And if you fail a test, you can always go and talk it over with them.’
What a weird country , Jesse had thought. A fail is a fail, right? What’s the point in talking it over?
He had said as much to his mother. She had laughed.

‘Just wait and see,’ she had said. ‘Teenagers have a lot more freedom here. I’m sure you’ll make lots of friends. And there are great bars and places to hang out when you’re a bit older. I’m sure you’ll love living in the UK.’
‘I guess,’ Jesse had said. But now he is sitting here on this bench in England. And he doesn’t like it at all.

Mara

Mara doesn’t know that Jesse’s having a hard time.
She is sitting in a maths support class because she failed her GCSE. She’s retaking it this year. Mara looks out of the window. That’s him , she thinks when she sees Jesse. That is the man of my dreams.

The other boys outside are talking in small groups They are pushing and shoving each other like children.
But the man of Mara’s dreams is sitting on the arm of a bench. He is listening to music on his phone.

He must be new , Mara thinks. I’ve never seen him before. I wonder if he will be in my tutor group.
She gazes at him. There are only two Year 12 classes. There’s a fair chance he will be in 12A.
The bell rings.
Mara shoves her maths book into her bag.
She puts in her pencils, ruler and protractor. She pulls the bag’s wide strap over her shoulder and walks out of the classroom.
‘Bye sir,’ she calls to the maths tutor.

‘Bye Mara,’ the man smiles. ‘I hope you are finding these sessions helpful!’
Mara nods. ‘I am,’ she says. ‘But I still think I’ll fail again. I’m just no good at maths.’
‘Well,’ the teacher says. ‘I’m here to help. But I’m not going to put the effort in unless you do, too.’

Mara looks at him, surprised. The teacher nods towards the window. He’d been watching her daydreaming. She is staring at the new boy.
She nods and shuffles out of the classroom, feeling embarrassed.

All for nothing

All through registration Mara keeps looking towards the door of the classroom.
He will walk in at any moment, the man of her dreams. With the principal. And the principal will say that he should sit next to Mara. That’s where there is an empty chair.

Mara puts her bag on the chair next to her so no one will sit there.
A few girls tried, though. Mara’s friends. They took Mara’s bag off the chair so they could sit down. But Mara stopped them.
‘No,’ she said. ‘I’d rather sit on my own today.’

The girls all looked surprised. Some were even a bit annoyed.
And it has all been for nothing. No one comes through the classroom door. He doesn’t appear in any of her morning lessons, either.

When the lunchtime bell rings, Mara gets up with a sigh. I need some comfort food , she thinks. A good amount of bad chocolate. Mars and Snickers and Twirl. Perhaps a Twix, too.

As she walks out of the classroom, she takes out her purse. Let’s have a look… one pound and forty pence. Is that all I’ve got?
Mara frowns. She got her pocket money yesterday. Eight pounds. She can’t have spent over six pounds already? That’s impossible.
Mara rifles through the other pocket in her purse. And then, bam, she runs into someone.

Collision

‘Watch where you’re going, young lady,’ the principal says sternly.
Mara looks up startled. ‘Oh, sorry,’ she says. ‘I didn’t see you.’
‘No, that would have been difficult with your face buried in your purse,’ the principal says crossly. ‘Eyes ahead when you’re walking please, Mara. Imagine if I had had a cup of coffee in my hand.’

‘Yes, imagine,’ Mara says sarcastically. She thinks to herself, Old grump! Making a fuss over nothing. Jerk!
The principal looks at Mara strangely, as if he can read her thoughts. But he doesn’t say anything.

Suddenly she notices him. The man of her dreams. He is standing just behind the principal and he winks at her. Startled, Mara drops her purse.
Coins spill out all over the floor. ‘I, er… I dropped my money,’ she mutters. She is still staring at the new boy.
He nods seriously. ‘It would seem so.’

Mara giggles nervously. She bends over to pick up the money.
You idiot , she thinks to herself. What are you doing? Staring at a boy for that long? What must he think of you?

She crawls around on the floor collecting up the money. There is a coin over there, and one over there, too.

Angry blue eyes

Jesse watches the girl with the angry blue eyes. She has just run into the principal. She looks as if she wants to fight him.
It’s a pity I can’t read minds , Jesse thinks. I’d love to know what she’s thinking right now.
She looks right at him.
He smiles at her and winks.

The anger fades from her blue eyes. The eyes now gaze at him, startled and surprised.
I have never seen eyes like those , Jesse thinks. It is as if they are telling a whole story.
Her purse falls to the ground.

The girl does not stoop to get the money. She continues to stare at him.
‘I, er… I dropped my money,’ she says. Jesse nods. ‘It would seem so,’ he replies.

Suddenly, the blue eyes brighten with laughter. The girl bends over and starts to pick up the coins.
One coin has rolled towards him. It goes behind the principal. Jesse bends over to pick it up. He hits his head hard against the head of the girl with the blue eyes.
‘Ouch!’ she cries.

‘There’s your twenty pence,’ Jesse says, grabbing the coin. He gives it to Mara and rubs his forehead. ‘Not sure it was worth getting a headbutt for,’ he says.
‘Come on, Jesse,” snaps the principal. ‘We are due to meet your teachers. Mara is perfectly capable of picking up her own money.’

Chocolate

The corner shop is closing just as Mara arrives.
‘Can I quickly buy something?’ she asks.
‘I’ve got a really bad chocolate craving.’
‘We’re closed,’ the shop girl says. ‘Please?’ Mara begs. ‘I’m desperate. I thought I had met the man of my dreams. But he headbutted me. Now I really need some chocolate to cheer me up.’
Mara pulls a sad face.

The shop girl laughs. ‘Alright, go on then,’ she says. ‘What do you want?’
‘Whatever I can buy with, er…’ Mara searches through her purse. ‘With £1.25,’ she says.
The girl takes a Twirl and a Mars from the shelf behind her. ‘That’s £1.10,’ she says. ‘And take care of your head. I can see the bruise already.’

‘Seriously?’ Mara asks. Carefully, she touches her forehead. She can feel a lump. Brilliant .
Mara runs back to school and into the toilets.
She looks in the mirror. The girl from the shop was right. Just above her left eye a bruise is forming.

The bell rings. Mara sighs. She holds a paper towel under the tap. She rubs the bruise with it. It doesn’t help, of course.

French

‘Alors, on parle français maintenant,’ the teacher says.
Mara looks at Max and rolls her eyes. ‘I bet she tries to make me move,’ she whispers. ‘She always has it in for me.’
But the teacher isn’t looking at Mara. She is looking at Jesse. ‘Jesse, veux-tu parler de toi?’ the teacher asks.

Jesse gets up calmly and walks to the front of the class. He starts to talk. In French. He tells them that he has a British mother and a Canadian father. That he was born in England and raised in Canada.

And that he moved back to England two weeks ago with his mum.
The class listens silently.

Jesse speaks French so well. Almost better than the teacher!
‘Wow,’ Mara sighs. ‘I wish I was that good at French.’
Jesse smiles at her.

‘Avez-vous des questions?’ He looks around the classroom. No one dares to ask a question. They are all afraid that their French will sound rubbish.
‘Moi, j’ai une question,’ the teacher says. She asks if Jesse thinks he speaks French well.
Jesse laughs. ‘Non,’ he replies.

Jesse explains that he speaks Canadian French. And that it sounds different from regular French.
‘It is sort of the same language,’ Jesse says. ‘But some of the words are different… and the way we pronounce things… I think regular French sounds much better.’

Stories about Canada

The teacher asks him to tell them a bit about living in Canada.
Jesse stands before the class. He explains that he lived in a kind of military camp. His father worked for the army as a pilot. He says that the military camp was great if you liked sports. Everything was free: the pool, the tennis courts, the fitness club.

His classmates work hard to understand what he is saying. They think his stories about Canada are brilliant.
Jesse can see that. It makes him feel a little less nervous. He had de