Hazel Wood Girl Read Online Free Page B

tears in his eyes. They all kept telling me how great it was, and telling Mum and Dad that I had a lovely voice and must have got it from their side of the family.
    When I read the note I thought how I haven’t really been singing at all lately. 
    I tried to get into the school choir when we moved here, but you had to audition in front of all the others who were already in the choir, and my voice went all funny and I didn’t even finish the song. The teacher was really nice and said to work hard in music class and try again next year, but I heard some of the others laughing so I don’t want to be in their stupid choir now. I used to love singing.

DAY TWENTY-TWO
    I met the tall guy today (well, sort of), and he looks even better close up. Or maybe he just seems to look better because my brain went all fuzzy with nerves. He was in the supermarket looking at the bread shelves and I was with Mum and not paying attention, so I almost walked into him.
    He looked really shocked, I think because I was carrying a sack of sweet potatoes and dropped them when I saw him. He said,
    ‘Hello’, and I was so surprised that I just picked up the sweet potatoes, turned around and walked back to Mum. I could hear him laughing at me as I walked away which shows that he’s exactly like they are in school. Still, I was kicking myself that I didn’t say ‘Hi’ back, or maybe even stand there and say something. I could have suggested a good type of bread or something. No! There, you see, that’s as charming and witty as I can imagine myself being, a bread-suggester, and that’s so ridiculous! Anyway he probably knows I’m The Farmer and it’s everyone’s job to not like me.
    Then, as if that didn’t scramble my head up completely, on the way back to the car I saw Emma-Jo and she was walking hand-in-hand with this guy from the year above me called Beau. They looked so cute together; their hair is almost exactly the same, short and fair and they are the same height. So she isn’t going out with the tall guy, or at least I hope not. Not that he would ever like me, but it would be a bit much if she has loads of boyfriends while all the other girls in town are sitting in their greenhouses, dreaming like idiots.
    Before the supermarket trip, I left a note down at the Hazel Wood saying about the singing day, the good one at Grandad’s party not the whole choir fiasco. I wanted to tell The Watcher about the tall guy laughing at me and how much that hurt, but I can’t do that until I know The Watcher’s identity. It would be amazing if it was a girl my age (a nice one) and I could tell her about things.
    I just this minute went down to the Hazel Wood again, and there was already a note there. It says –
    Dear Hazel Wood Girl,
    Thank you for telling me about your singing, I’m sure you sounded incredible.
    The best thing that ever happened to me was when my dad took me fishing and we sat for hours, sometimes talking and sometimes not. He caught a huge trout and I helped him reel it in, and caught it in the net at the very end. When we got home he told Mum and everyone else that I had caught it, even though it was really him.
    Question: If you could meet one person from history who would it be and why?
    From, The Watcher .
    I wonder if JL counts as a person from history. It feels weird, like I have a friend even though I have never met them. I kidded myself for a while that it might be the tall guy but I know that I never have that kind of luck.

DAY TWENTY-THREE
    I HAVE FINALLY REALISED. I am an idiot, like as if that’s news. When I woke up this morning, in one single brain-spasm it became glaringly obvious that Barbara and her friends thought of the whole Hazel Wood Girl thing. It’s so obvious that they will be showing my notes all around school, and laughing at me again, and putting them on the noticeboards. I know she’s away, but I bet she paid someone to do this to me. Why? What did I ever do to any of them?
    I wish everyone