asked.
I laughed and said, “No. A friend with absolutely no benefits. Not now. Not before. And not ever, ever, ever. You have nothing to worry about, believe me.”
But I didn’t explain why because I quite liked leaving him to stew a little bit. It’s only what I had to do when he was away.
7.45 p.m.
OK. I’m dressed and ready to hit the pub. It took ages because James is really critical about clothes, hair, make-up and all that. With most boys you know you can throw on a short skirt or a tight top and they’ll be happy just perving, but that doesn’t work with James – fashion is his number-one priority.
I decided to wear my harem pants (so–oo now) with a black vest.
7.50 p.m.
Nearly forgot my fake ID. Phew!
11 p.m.
Well, I can honestly say that I made a proper idiot of myself tonight.
I was just getting into the celebrations when Boring Roger walked into the pub. With a girl on his arm. The red mist came tumbling down. I stormed up to him and threw my drink in his face.
“You tosser!” I said. “You absolute—” (I can’t remember the details but I know I called him every swear word I could think of.)
The girl he was with started to scream and cry, James tried to calm me down and Roger kept shouting things like “You’re mad!” and “What the hell are you on about?”
“You know exactly what I’m on about!” I shouted back, launching myself at him. And I might even have hit him if James hadn’t grabbed me around the waist and dragged me back.
“Look, mate,” Roger said to James. “You’d better keep that nutter away from me, because I might not be responsible for what happens next.”
“What? You gonna hit me? You that weak and pathetic?” I shrieked at him.
Then he looked me in the eye and said quietly through clenched teeth, “I’d never hit a woman. I think you know what kind of person I am.”
“What? Like I knew that you wouldn’t dump my sister? She’s at home crying her eyes out because of you!” I yelled.
“What you on about? No one has shed more tears about your sister than me,” he said. “And let me tell you, she hasn’t returned any of my calls in about two weeks. So if she’s crying, it has nothing to do with me – and everything to do with someone else.”
I wanted to call him a liar, but his eyes looked like he was telling the truth. I was so–oo confused. Still didn’t apologize when he asked me to, though (just in case). Then he walked off with his date.
I convinced myself I’d done the right thing when James put me into a cab, and even on the way home. Then I received a text from Kellie:
OMG. Have you heard?? Lance and Amy Fitzgerald are getting married!! WTF?!
Now suddenly everything makes sense. And I feel like a right twot.
11.30 p.m.
Everything happens for a reason. If Boring Roger hadn’t walked into the pub tonight, Malibu would probably still be keeping all her pain about Lance Wilson to herself. She looked bloody relieved after I got her to confess.
“I love him, Rem,” she said. “I’ve always loved him. When he rang me up a couple of weeks ago and gave me a long speech about wanting me back, I said no way because I know what a player he is. Then you saw him kissing Amy and I got jealous, so I called him, ranting and raving. He told me
I
was the one he wanted to be with, so I fell for it and went over to his house.”
“But you said you were going to Roger’s that night!”
“I know. I was just embarrassed about telling you to be strong and then being weak myself. I was going to tell you, I swear. I would’ve had to, with the way things were going, but then … he changed his mind again and…”
She stopped.
Is she going to cry
? I thought. And just when I was convinced that Malibu had become a soft-hearted Disney princess, she said, “I mean – dissed for a dog like Amy Fitzgerald? What a fucking cheek!”
Wednesday 9 July – 7 p.m.
Malibu looked a bit down first thing, but as soon as she got to work she switched on
I laughed and said, “No. A friend with absolutely no benefits. Not now. Not before. And not ever, ever, ever. You have nothing to worry about, believe me.”
But I didn’t explain why because I quite liked leaving him to stew a little bit. It’s only what I had to do when he was away.
7.45 p.m.
OK. I’m dressed and ready to hit the pub. It took ages because James is really critical about clothes, hair, make-up and all that. With most boys you know you can throw on a short skirt or a tight top and they’ll be happy just perving, but that doesn’t work with James – fashion is his number-one priority.
I decided to wear my harem pants (so–oo now) with a black vest.
7.50 p.m.
Nearly forgot my fake ID. Phew!
11 p.m.
Well, I can honestly say that I made a proper idiot of myself tonight.
I was just getting into the celebrations when Boring Roger walked into the pub. With a girl on his arm. The red mist came tumbling down. I stormed up to him and threw my drink in his face.
“You tosser!” I said. “You absolute—” (I can’t remember the details but I know I called him every swear word I could think of.)
The girl he was with started to scream and cry, James tried to calm me down and Roger kept shouting things like “You’re mad!” and “What the hell are you on about?”
“You know exactly what I’m on about!” I shouted back, launching myself at him. And I might even have hit him if James hadn’t grabbed me around the waist and dragged me back.
“Look, mate,” Roger said to James. “You’d better keep that nutter away from me, because I might not be responsible for what happens next.”
“What? You gonna hit me? You that weak and pathetic?” I shrieked at him.
Then he looked me in the eye and said quietly through clenched teeth, “I’d never hit a woman. I think you know what kind of person I am.”
“What? Like I knew that you wouldn’t dump my sister? She’s at home crying her eyes out because of you!” I yelled.
“What you on about? No one has shed more tears about your sister than me,” he said. “And let me tell you, she hasn’t returned any of my calls in about two weeks. So if she’s crying, it has nothing to do with me – and everything to do with someone else.”
I wanted to call him a liar, but his eyes looked like he was telling the truth. I was so–oo confused. Still didn’t apologize when he asked me to, though (just in case). Then he walked off with his date.
I convinced myself I’d done the right thing when James put me into a cab, and even on the way home. Then I received a text from Kellie:
OMG. Have you heard?? Lance and Amy Fitzgerald are getting married!! WTF?!
Now suddenly everything makes sense. And I feel like a right twot.
11.30 p.m.
Everything happens for a reason. If Boring Roger hadn’t walked into the pub tonight, Malibu would probably still be keeping all her pain about Lance Wilson to herself. She looked bloody relieved after I got her to confess.
“I love him, Rem,” she said. “I’ve always loved him. When he rang me up a couple of weeks ago and gave me a long speech about wanting me back, I said no way because I know what a player he is. Then you saw him kissing Amy and I got jealous, so I called him, ranting and raving. He told me
I
was the one he wanted to be with, so I fell for it and went over to his house.”
“But you said you were going to Roger’s that night!”
“I know. I was just embarrassed about telling you to be strong and then being weak myself. I was going to tell you, I swear. I would’ve had to, with the way things were going, but then … he changed his mind again and…”
She stopped.
Is she going to cry
? I thought. And just when I was convinced that Malibu had become a soft-hearted Disney princess, she said, “I mean – dissed for a dog like Amy Fitzgerald? What a fucking cheek!”
Wednesday 9 July – 7 p.m.
Malibu looked a bit down first thing, but as soon as she got to work she switched on
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