The Mystery of Me Read online

  JOY.

  That’s it!

  “Ketty?” Maryam says. “Are you OK?”

  “It’s OK,” I tell her. “I just remembered something about the school trip, about the day of the crash.”

  It’s as if a key is starting to turn a lock. A door is opening, and the memories are starting to tumble out, becoming ever faster, ever clearer.

  CHAPTER 7

  The whirlwind in my head

  The next afternoon I meet up with Otis in the park, along with a load of other people from our year.

  Music is blasting out from somewhere. Voices are chattering from every side, and little kids are yelping and shrieking in the playground nearby.

  Otis is beside me, but he’s talking to Daisy, the birthday girl. I can’t really hear what they’re saying. There’s too much background noise and I’m finding it hard to focus, but also they’re talking about people and things I don’t know.

  “Oh, hey, Otis, I got a happy-birthday Snapchat from Jasmine this morning,” I hear Daisy say.

  Jasmine – that’s a nice name, I think as I pick at the skin around my nail.

  And then I realise Daisy is looking at me out of the corner of her eye.

  My hand goes up to check my hair – I’m always scared it’ll move and people will see that it’s a wig. I don’t mind that Otis knows, of course, but I don’t want everyone else staring.

  “Yeah? That’s nice of her,” Otis says. “But, hey, do you know what this track is, Daisy?”

  My brain might not work 100 per cent, but that sounded like Otis was trying to change the subject. Still, Daisy carries on talking about Jasmine.

  “No, I don’t know what music that is,” she says. “But, like I said, Jasmine’s doing great at her new school. She has lots of new friends and is really happy and chilled.”

  “Uh-huh, I know,” Otis answers. He looks awkward. “Jasmine stays in touch with me too.”

  Jasmine.

  Jasmine …

  Another flash, and a memory flits by me like a flash of bright scarf.

  I expect it to go, but it doesn’t. And the memory isn’t a picture in my head but a twisting feeling in my stomach.

  “Otis?” I say, and panic bubbles inside. “I don’t feel very good!”

  “OK, Ketty,” Otis says. He gets up quickly and holds a hand out to me. “Let’s go somewhere quiet. Let’s go to the roses.”

  The roses. The butterflies.

  I get up, but my head is swirling with memories and feelings like there’s a whirlwind trapped inside it.

  CHAPTER 8

  Two things I know

  In for five …

  Hold for five …

  Out for ten …

  I close my eyes and repeat my breathing exercise till the panic goes away and the whirlwind stops swirling.

  “Better?” I hear Otis ask.

  “Better,” I say, and I open my eyes.

  We’re on the same grassy patch we sat on at lunch on Wednesday. This time, Otis is holding his phone in his hand instead of a sandwich. This time he’s not smiling. He’s looking at me in an odd way.

  “You went a bit funny when you heard Jasmine’s name, didn’t you?” he says.

  “Yes, but … but I don’t know why,” I reply.

  “Well, I think maybe I need to show you something, Ketty,” he says. He looks at me, and he seems a bit worried.

  “Oh, right,” I say, frowning.

  Otis turns his phone screen round so I can see the video.

  It’s of me. Me next to a girl with funky little space buns. Me scowling. Me almost growling.

  “What do you think YOU’RE looking at, Jasmine?” I say to her on the video with a nasty snarl.

  The girl with the cute hair blinks hard as if she’s about to cry.

  And then the video loops on again, the same little scene over again.

  Otis looks upset. I don’t know why. I don’t understand what’s happening.

  “Was this in Drama club?” I say. “Were we acting out a scene that you were filming?”

  “It wasn’t acting, Ketty,” Otis says. He doesn’t meet my eye. “This is you. This is how you used to be, before the crash. To lots of people, but to Jasmine most of all …”

  My brain is still sore, so I don’t understand everything, but right this second, I know two things for sure.

  Otis? He’s not really my friend.

  And the old me? I was a bully. A snidey, mean bully.

  I get up so fast my head spins, but that’s the least of my worries.

  I start to run.

  I need to run away from here, run away from Otis, run away from myself.

  CHAPTER 9

  Tell me who I was

  I only stop running when I can’t breathe any longer.

  My heart is hammering in my chest, my lungs burn and burn.

  This part of the park … it’s wilder than the rest. It’s full of long, swishing grass, like a wildflower meadow.

  I sink down or fall over, I’m not sure which.

  And there are the butterflies again, darting and dancing in the soft summer breeze.

  SLAM!

  The memory wallops into my mind.

  We had stopped at a meadow on the school trip. As we got ready to file off the coach, Jasmine was in front of me. As I waited at the top step by the door, Jasmine was on the next step down. It was so easy, so tempting. I nudged her in the back, and she tumbled forward, all the way out of the coach. She fell out onto the road and hit her bare knees on the gritty surface.

  And I felt elated, full of JOY.

  “Ketty – Ketty, I’m so sorry,” Otis pants. He’s run after me, and he flops down beside me in the long grass.

  “Don’t say sorry,” I say. I stare at him, and I start to cry. “Just tell me. Tell me the truth. I know you hate me, but please tell me what I was like before.”

  Otis sighs, and he stares at the ground as he talks.

  “You used to bully Jasmine. She tried to tell the teachers that you kept picking on her, but you were smart and popular, and when you told the teachers Jasmine was lying, they believed you. But Jasmine was my friend, so I filmed you in secret whenever you were near her. I wanted to catch you out. It made no difference. Even when I had this clip, Jasmine told me I was wasting my time – her mum had got a job in London, and they were moving away. Jasmine wanted a fresh start, to be happy, to feel safe at school.”

  “And I was really mean to her,” I say. My voice is flat. “She must have hated me. I hate myself right now. Was I really that bad?”

  “Uh, pretty much,” Otis says. He holds his phone screen up for me to see again. I flinch away from it – is it another of those films?

  It’s me again, that’s for sure. It looks like the inside of a coach. I’m standing on the seat, reaching into a bag on the shelf above.

  “Sit down, Ketty Banks!” a voice shouts. It must belong to a teacher.

  “Oh, shut up! I just need my lip gloss!” I growl.

  Then there’s an awful thud, and the phone clatters to the ground while the sound of screaming fills the coach.

  Otis presses pause.

  “So that’s why I ended up with such a bad injury compared to everyone else,” I say. “In a way, it was my own stupid fault!”

  I stare at the frozen image on the screen in horror. Mum and Dad might think I’m the same girl I was, but that’s just not true. And I’m glad.

  “Look, Ketty,” Otis says, “I’ve been a bit confused lately. I – I – hated the old Ketty, and so I got close to you this week cos I wanted to … I dunno, hurt you like you hurt Jasmine, drive you away like you did her. But the trouble is …”

  He stops. I look up at him, and I know my face is a messy sea of tears and snot.

  “… the trouble is, I really, REALLY like the new Ketty.” He bites his lip.

  Otis – he made me feel brave this week.

  And all of a sudden I feel brave again.

  I reach out my fingers and
touch his hand.

  “I like the new me too,” I whisper.

  As Otis wraps his fingers around mine, I feel so, so glad that the old Ketty “died” in those 2 minutes, 39 seconds on the day of the school trip.

  Because, even with my bruises and my scars and my fuzzy, messed-up head, I’m the new, improved Ketty – and I’m here to stay.

  Our books are tested

  for children and young people by

  children and young people.

  Thanks to everyone who consulted on

  a manuscript for their time and effort in

  helping us to make our books better

  for our readers.

  COPYRIGHT

  First published in 2022 in Great Britain by

  Barrington Stoke Ltd

  18 Walker Street, Edinburgh, EH3 7LP

  This ebook edition first published in 2022

  www.barringtonstoke.co.uk

  This edition based on The Mystery of Me

  (Barrington Stoke, 2017)

  Text © 2017 & 2022 Karen McCombie

  Illustrations © 2017 Cathy Brett

  The moral right of Karen McCombie and Cathy Brett to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in any part in any form without the written permission of the publisher

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library upon request

  eISBN: 978–1–80090–225–1

 

 

  Karen McCombie, The Mystery of Me

 

 

  Thank you for reading books on Archive.BookFrom.Net
Share this book with friends