Jean Ure - Freaks Out!

The point, said Skye, was that nobody would be tempted to write nice things for some star signs – like if they knew who the sign belonged to – and nasty things for others.

“Though personally,” she added, “I’m only going to write nice things, anyway.”

“Why?” Jem said it aggressively. I guess she was still pretty mad at Skye for siding with me and not letting her tell the tomato-ketchup story. Not to mention bossing us around. “If you think it’s all rubbish, what’s it matter what you write?”

“Cos I’d feel awful,” said Skye, “if I wrote something nasty and then it actually came true. Even though I’d know it was only coincidence.”

I saw Jem’s mouth open, and quickly shoved my elbow in her ribs. We didn’t have all day. We’d come back to my place after school and Skye and Jem would have to be getting home pretty soon.

“Just write,” I said.

These are my four that I did:

An exciting new opportunity will arise. It should be grasped with both hands.

Big changes are coming your way. They will take your life in a different direction.

A treasured possession will be lost, but do not despair. It will turn up.

Be on the lookout: trouble ahead!

“OK, I’ve finished,” I said.

“Me too,” said Skye.

Jem was still sitting hunched up like a little gnome, furiously scribbling. Now and again, a giggle would burst out of her.

“I hope you’re not being gross,” said Skye.

“What’s it to you if I am?” Jem threw down her pen. “Now what d’you want us to do?”

“Cut them into strips,” said Skye, “then fold them up and shuffle them about so you don’t know which is which.”

Jem rolled her eyes.

“Do it!”

“Yes, do it,” I said.

“All right,” said Jem. “I’m doing it!”

Skye said that now we would each take one for ourselves. “I’ll take one from Frankie, and Frankie can take one from Jem, and Jem can take one from me… go!”

“Can we look?” said Jem. “Well, I’m going to, anyway!”

We all opened our bits of paper. On mine, in Jem’s round squiggly handwriting, it said: Things will happen. Hm! It didn’t make much sense, but at least she hadn’t said bad things.

I asked Skye which one of mine she’d picked, but she wouldn’t tell me. She said, “It’s got to be secret. Like a secret ballot.”

“So what happens to all the rest?” Jem wanted to know.

“We randomly assign them,” said Skye.

Jem blinked. “You what?”

“We randomly assign them!”

There was a pause.

“I do wish, just occasionally, she would speak in normal English,” said Jem.

Skye made an impatient tutting sound. “It’s perfectly simple! What we’re left with is nine horoscopes and nine star signs.” She laid them out in two rows on the floor. “We’re going to staple one horoscope to each star sign.” She clicked her fingers. “Stapler!”

“Haven’t got one.”

“Paper clips!”

“Haven’t got any.”

Skye breathed heavily, like Mr Hargreaves when he’s about to blow up.

“Sellotape?”

“Oh, yes,” I said. “I’ve got some of that.”

Just as well! It doesn’t do to cross Skye when she’s in one of her schoolteacherly moods.

With brisk efficiency, she began picking up horoscopes and picking up star signs, folding them over and sticking them together. Jem immediately began bleating.

“If they’re all going to be secret, how are we supposed to know if any of them come true?”

Skye said we would wait till the end of term, and then we would open all the bits of paper and see.

“But we don’t know what people’s star signs are!”

“We know what our mums’ and dads’ are.”

“I’m talking about people at school. I thought we were supposed to be asking them?”

“You can ask, if you want,” said Skye. “No one’s stopping you. Honestly, I’ve never known anyone make such a fuss! It’s only a game.”

“So if it’s only a game, why can’t we look?”

“Cos even games have rules. There’s no point playing, if you don’t have rules. I’m going to go now, I promised Mum I’d be back by five. You coming?”

“In a minute,” said Jem.

“I’ve got to go now. I’ll take these with me.” Skye scooped up all the bits of paper, neatly stuck with Sellotape. “Cos I know what you two are like.”

“Are you saying we’d cheat?” said Jem.

“Well, you would, wouldn’t you?” Skye opened her schoolbag and stuffed the bits of paper into one of the inside pockets. “They’ll be safe there. I won’t look.”

To be fair to Skye, we knew that she wouldn’t. After she’d gone, Jem giggled and said, “D’you want to know what I picked?”

I struggled for a few seconds with my conscience. There wasn’t any reason I shouldn’t know. Just cos Skye had decided it had to be kept secret. Me and Jem hadn’t decided. But it was true that Skye was honourable, and we weren’t, so I very nobly said no.

“Better not tell me.”

“Don’t see why not,” said Jem. “What right’s she got to dictate?”

None at all, really, except that she was our friend and if she wanted to make up rules – well! That was just Skye. At least she’d joined in.

“Wouldn’t be fair to go behind her back,” I said.

Jem looked for a minute as if she might go off into a sulk again, but then she gave me this mischievous grin and said, “If I was doing your horoscope now, know what I’d say? I’d say, Keep an eye on Daisy Hooper.”

“Why?” I couldn’t resist asking.

“See if she gets a clonk on the head!”

“Is she likely to?”

“Well…” Jem cackled. “Someone’s going to. Hope it’s not you! You didn’t pick that one, did you?”

Before I could stop myself I said, “No.”

“That’s good,” said Jem. “Means it could be her!”

Me and Jem watched eagerly the next couple of days, waiting to see if Daisy Hooper would get clonked on the head. See if anyone got clonked on the head. Just cos Jem had written it for one of her horoscopes, didn’t necessarily mean it was going to happen.

“Skye could be right,” I said. And Mum, and Tom. And Dad. “Could all just be coincidence.”

It wasn’t what I wanted to believe, cos I like to think there’s stuff going on that’s a bit mysterious. But if you’re conducting a scientific experiment it’s important to keep an open mind. Jem already seemed to have made hers up.

“If it’s all just coincidence,” she said, “why would anyone bother? There’s got to be something in it. I mean, look at my auntie! You’re not telling me that was just coincidence?”

I didn’t wish to talk about Jem’s auntie. Rather sternly I said, “We are conducting an experiment. We must wait for proof.”

“But that is proof!”

“More proof.”

Jem giggled. “Want to know another one I wrote? Beware the hairy monsters… I thought I might as well use it. Wonder who got that one? Wasn’t you, was it?”

“We’re not supposed to be telling,” I said.

“Oh, pooh!” Jem tossed her head. “What’s it matter?” She danced round me, waggling her fingers. “Big hairy monsters! It was you, wasn’t it?”

“Not saying.”

“It was, it was! You’re going to get a bunch of huge enormous spiders marching across the ceiling!”

“Yeah, or I might get mugged by a load of huge hairy muggers. Might end up in hospital. Then what’d you have to say?”

Jem’s face fell. She looked at me, suddenly uncertain. “It wasn’t really you, was it?”

“Well, if it wasn’t,” I said, “it’s someone else, and then you’ll be responsible if it comes true.”

Quick as a flash, Jem said, “I’m not saying everything does! Just some things.”