Form Photo DAY TWO Wednesday 29 March
Defeated after the rugby club disco, where his attempts to kiss Juliet, Cece, or Diana (girls from Kizzy’s form, hopefully unaware of their connection to him) had failed, Robbie sought solace in his twin sister’s room. It was
He found Kizzy swapping her O’Level revision chart for her form photo on the pinboard. The formal black-and-white picture included seventeen uniformed girls alongside their form teacher, highlighting the stark contrast between youth (appearing 13-19) and adulthood (late 20s). A dart pierced the cardboard frame next to the school shield.
“You might hit someone!” Robbie protested.
Kizzy rolled her eyes. “That’s the point. You have to stay in the game. Fate will pick your next target from my form. Since all the best girls are in it.”
“What if you hit the teacher?”
“A challenge for our sunshine boy.”
“What if we hit *you*?”
“It won’t.”
Kizzy, positioned on the far left of the picture, looked like she’d rather be anywhere else.
She aimed.
“So you’re *aiming*,” Robbie said. “Not random. Let me have a go.”
“No. You’ll pick Cece, Julie-Anne, or Diana.”
“Which one’s Diana?”
Kizzy pointed. Robbie demurred. He tried to grab her remaining darts, sparking a brief, unpleasant struggle.
Kizzy yielded, knowing he’d stop before hurting her.
“At least use your left hand.”
A shared glance passed between them, a silent apology. “Sorry,” “Then,” “Alright,” they mumbled in unison, their telepathy a familiar comfort.
Kizzy, dart in her left hand, threw and hit the teacher.
“Shit. Sorry,” she muttered, as if Miss Rowbotham could hear. “Here, your turn. But no looking.”
Kizzy blindfolded him from behind. Robbie threw the last dart, guided by her hold on his shoulders. It landed squarely on Cece’s nose, making her appear cross-eyed.
“Cece. June birthday, younger than us. She’s friends with Thingey’s sister, lives next door. No boyfriend. Has a dog.”
Robbie examined the picture. “She’s alright, except for that scowl.”
“I tried dancing with her at the disco,” Robbie confessed. “She seemed interested, then…not. I leaned in, and she vanished. Like I had leprosy.”
Now fully engaged, Kizzy grabbed a pen and paper, ready to take notes, “Why isn’t she smiling?” Robbie asked.
“Probably having her period. Most of the class looked miserable.”
“Cece and Diana turned me down!”
“You have to tell me these things.”
“Just no dates with Miss Rowbotham, please.”
“Maybe try someone older,” Kizzy suggested. “I did.”
“‘I would’ you mean surely?” Robbie asked, frankly surprised.
“Did,” she said, emphatic, smiling whilst determined to stay schtum.
Robbie felt a pang. “Kiz?!”
“My secret is I keep it secret.”
Robbie knew she would keep it to herself.
“Back to you, sunshine boy. I don’t need any help.”
“So, if not Cece or Diana, who’s next?”
“Cece! Don’t give up after one rejection. So much goes on. Did she have her eye on someone else? Was she even *aware* you were dancing with her? Walk the dog on the Town Moor. I hope you see her. Or I can talk to Thingey’s sister.”
Kizzy headed downstairs, Robbie trailing behind.
“What are you doing?”
“Phoning Thingey’s sister. She lives next door to Cece.”
Eavesdropping from the landing, Robbie overheard Kizzy asking for Momo and about Cece. Desperate for more information, he grabbed the phone from his mother’s room. Although he missed some of what was said, he did catch that the girls were primarily discussing the Rolling Stones concert and their chances of getting in. “They don’t check your age. You just have to look old enough. We could both pass for 18 if we dress up.”
He returned to Kizzy’s room and repaired the hole in Cece’s nose with Copydex, now resembling a prominent spot.
He then traced the form photo, creating outlines of each girl and coloring Kizzy and Miss Rowbotham in red. He added names to identify everyone.
Kizzy entered, admiring his work. “That’s my boy.” She grabbed a Rolodex card, writing ‘Cece’ on it.
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