Louise Rennison_Georgia Nicolson 05 by Away Laughing on a Fast Camel

quite Italian.
    â€œHello, Ginger. And ciao, little moo cow.”
    I looked at him. Ohmygiddygodstrousers. He was absolutely gorgeous. Really really gorgey. Really gorgey. And I do mean gorgey. That’s why I said it. He had very black wavy hair and a tan—a tan in England in April. And he had eyes and teeth and a mouth. He had a back, front, sides, arms, everything. His mouth wasn’t as big as Mark Big Gob’s (whose was?) but it was on the generous side. And he had really long eyelashes and AMBER eyes. In fact he had eyes like someone I knew, and then I realized he had eyes like Angus. How freaky deaky!! They were the same color as Angus’s! But they didn’t have that casual madnosity that Angus’s had. In fact they were smiley and soft and dreamy.
    Then I realized that about two hundred years had passed since he had said hello.
    I forced Libby’s mouth off the back of my neck (in a loving and caring way). I thought, “Act natural and normal, do not under any circumstances have an uncontrollable laughing attack.” I took a deep breath. “Ah yes well, er ciao to you too. I’m not really ginger, it’s just a trick of the light. Hahahahahahaha.”
    Oh brilliant, I was having an uncontrollable laughing attack.
    Dom must have realized that my brain had dropped out because he said, “Masimo, this is Georgia. Georgia, this is Masimo, our new lead singer. Georgia was, erm, friendly with Robbie.”
    Masimo. Masimo. Whohoa Masimo. I must get a grip. Masimo was locking up his scooter. He looked up and looked me straight in the eye. I managed not to fall over. He said, “Well, Georgia, it was really nice to meet you, I hope we meet again. Ciao.”
    Then they walked off to go into the Phoenix.
    I said, “Yes, ciao,” and Libby shouted, “Night-night, botty boy!”
    I turned round and carried her off as fast as I could.
    â€œLibby, why did you say that naughty thing, don’t say it again!”
    Libby was singing, “Have you seen the botty boy, the botty boy, the botty boy…”
    Where does she get all this stuff from?
    God, she weighs a lot these days. I was exhausted when we finally got home. I tucked her up in her bed—she didn’t want to come into my bed because she is cross with me for yelling at her. She wouldn’t even give me a good-night kiss, although she did manage a quick whack round my ear with scuba-diving Barbie.
    in bed
    Good grief.
    The Dreamboat has landed again.
    midnight
    Now I really have got the Cosmic Horn. The only fly in the armpit is that he hasn’t shown the slightest interest in me.
    12:35 a.m.
    Although he did say I hope we meet again.
    But does it mean that he hopes we meet again, or, you know, like he hopes we meet again but not really?
    Â 
    Oh happy days, I am on the rack of love again.
    monday april 18th
    stalag 14
    Had to try to apply makeup on the move because I woke up so late. So there was a mascara-brush-in-the-eye incident. Jas was all fresh faced by her gate. And ludicrously cheerful. And loud.
    â€œHi, Georgia, look, I’ve got my Wilderness badge. I’ve put it next to my Ramblers’ badge. Do you see? Great, isn’t it?”
    â€œJas, something really—”
    â€œWell, when we got there we had to construct a shelter out of branches and Tom—”
    â€œJas, I don’t want to hear about your twig house. I want to tell you about Mr. Gorgeous.”
    Jas said, “You know the ace gang rule.”
    â€œWhat ace gang rule?”
    â€œShe who starts first must be heard.”
    â€œYes, but that was ages ago we made that rule…and anyway, you are just going to rave on about twigs whereas I want to tell you about this gorgey…”
    But Jas had her hands over her ears and was humming. Oh my giddy aunt’s brassiere.
    I mouthed at her, “OK, you start.”
    She gave me a scary smile. “Are you sure you are interested?”
    I