Free Dancing Daze by Sarah Webb

I’ll have to travel to school on my own. Maybe I’ll have to spend the whole day alone. School without Mills . . . The thought makes me shiver.
    I take a deep breath, willing back the tears that are threatening to spill down my cheeks. I feel so on edge this morning, and the exhaustion isn’t exactly helping. I couldn’t get to sleep last night. My mind and emotions just wouldn’t shut down. I’m so angry with myself for being such an idiot, and I feel cutting guilt at upsetting Mills. If only I’d kept to the facts in my diary, like Claire does in hers, and not gone off on a self-indulgent moan, everything would be all right now.
    I rang and rang and rang Mills’s mobile last night, but she wouldn’t answer, and eventually she turned it off. So I tried the house line, but Sue said Mills wasn’t feeling well and couldn’t come to the phone. Then I stopped by, which was ultramortifying, as Sue answered the front door, her face all red and embarrassed.
    “I’m sorry, Amy,” she said. “Mills doesn’t want to speak to you right now.” She lowered her voice. “She won’t tell me what’s happened, but I’m sure she’ll calm down in a few days. Just give her some time. This has happened before, remember, and you managed to patch things up. You two are such good friends, it would be an awful shame if, well, you know . . .” Sue gave me a kind, open smile just like Mills’s, making me feel even worse. Why, oh, why had I written those ridiculous things in my diary? Mills is a brilliant friend and I don’t deserve her. If only she’d just talk to me, let me explain . . .
    In school, things are not looking good. Mills has been ignoring me all morning, turning away whenever I try to speak to her, and people are starting to notice. Annabelle Hamilton corners me at the lockers at first break. “You and Amelia having a tiffy wiffy, are you?” she asks. Nina is standing just behind her, peering at me like a vulture, all beady little eyes and scrawny neck.
    “Leave me alone, Annabelle.” I slam my locker shut harder than strictly necessary.
    “Temper, temper,” Nina scolds. She opens her mouth to say something else but is interrupted by Sophie. “Hey, girls,” she calls out. “The results of the All Saints tryouts are up on the notice board. We’re all still in. Natch! And a couple of the newbies got picked too.”
    Before Sophie gets a chance to say who, Annabelle and Nina are racing down the corridor. Normally I’d rather follow a farting frog than Annabelle Hamilton, but I do desperately want to talk to Mills, and I know she’ll be keen to find out if she’s made the cut, so I tag along, walking several feet behind the D4s and trying to ignore their gibes.
    “What’s that funky perfume Green’s wearing, girls? Anyone recognize it?” Annabelle says, sniffing the air. “I’m getting Parfum Desperation — no, wait, it’s Eau de Self-Loathing.” They all cackle like witches.
    Mills is standing at the notice board, staring up at a sheet of paper and biting her lip anxiously. Nora-May is beside her, beaming. She’s obviously back on the squad. But it looks like Mills isn’t.
    “Sorry you didn’t make it, Mills,” I say.
    Mills’s eyes are still fixed on the notice board. “Thanks for your vote of confidence, Amy. Actually, I’m in.”
    “Congratulations,” I say quickly, hoping she’ll at least look at me. “You’ll make a great cheerleader.”
    She looks at me now, her eyes steely. “Don’t be so sarcastic, Amy. It doesn’t suit you. And I have things to discuss with the other All Saints, so if you don’t mind . . .” She tosses her head at me, her ponytail swishing behind her. “Vamoose!”
    “Things to discuss? As if.” Annabelle laughs nastily. “Let’s get this straight, Amelia Bedelia. You may be, like, on the squad, but that does not mean we have to speak to you outside training. I bet you were picked just because Bailey Otis is your boyfriend. So if you’re, like,