365 Days (23 page)

Saturday 10/Sunday 11 November

Weekend at Caroline’s

Han came over first thing this morning and told me she’d got a treat for me for later. I looked quizzically at her, and she leant over to reveal the skimpiest, blackest, sexiest bra I’ve ever seen!!! After my heart had returned to its normal beat, I said to her ‘You can’t wear that! You’ll drive all the hormone-infested boys there tonight wild.’ Han said, ‘
They’re
not going to see it, silly! This is for your eyes only.’

OMFG!! Can you imagine how hot it’ll be knowing she’s wearing it, and it’s all for me? I laughed and said, ‘You’re lucky I’ve got a strong heart, y’know,’ and she said, ‘And YOU’RE lucky you have such a
hot
girlfriend,’ and grinned at me. Can’t argue with that!

Anyway, we went over to Caroline’s around sixish and the whole gang was there. Ems had had a tiff with Ryan, so he wasn’t there, thank God, but it meant she spent the whole evening snivelling and pouring her heart out to Matty, who looked like she just wanted to seek out the vodka in the kitchen and get drunk!

Alice turned up too and smiled weakly when she spotted me in the corner with Han, then headed out into the garden to talk to Caroline. I wondered if I ought to follow her and talk to her, ask her if she was okay seeing me and Han together, ’cos this was the first time she’d seen us together since all that shit in France happened, but then I remembered Han’s black bra and didn’t want to do anything that might upset Han and prevent me from seeing her in it later. I’m so shallow sometimes.

Anyway, later we watched this really crap horror movie about a bunch of teenagers who get lost in a wood and then get stalked through the wood by some crazed axe murderer called Kevin. Personally I would have thought they could have thought of a more menacing name for an axe murderer, but there you go. Whenever he caught anyone, Kevin would skin his victims, accompanied by blood-curdling screams. Han leant over to me and whispered, ‘I’m all for seeing movies with girls’ bare skins, but it’d be better if the girls actually had their skins still on their bodies.’ We turned all the lights off to add to the atmosphere, which made Caroline whinge a little bit. Han held my hand in the dark, linking her fingers in mine and stroking the inside of my palm with her thumb, making me very sleepy.

I peered in the dark over to where Alice was sitting and suddenly noticed she was getting it on with some boy called Vince who’d come with Charlie. It felt weird watching Alice kissing him so I stopped and carried on watching the movie but I couldn’t help wondering why she was doing it if she was only telling me not long ago that she fancied me? Maybe she was drunk? Maybe she’s still pissed off at me and this is her way of trying to show me she’s moved on.
But with a boy???
[/queasy/].

I tried to concentrate on the movie, but it had started to descend into farce a bit, with bodies being axed left, right, and centre, so we all sat and threw popcorn at the telly and booed and hissed every time Kevin came on screen wielding his bloody axe. Then we told ghost stories for a bit to freak each other out, but then we got bored and decided to go to bed. I couldn’t see Alice anywhere but figured I didn’t want to sleep too near to her anyway, just in case she tried to get into my sleeping bag in the night or something (if she was that drunk she was willing to kiss Vince, she might do anything), so I put my sleeping bag next to Han’s over in the corner and put some cushions round us, kinda blocking us off from the others.

Matty sidled up to me and said she didn’t want to sleep next to Ems, ’cos she’d be banging on all night about Ryan, and Matty wouldn’t get a wink of sleep. So she asked me if she could sleep next to me. Han slung a lazy arm round my shoulders and said to Matty that I snored a lot, and did I really want to be kept awake all night with that instead? I smiled and shrugged my shoulders. Matty thought about this for a minute before gathering her
High School Musical
pyjamas and bedding, and slinking off into the corner of the room to sleep alone.

Me and Han found a perfect little spot between the sofa and IKEA footstool-cum-CD rack. I was disappointed that it was pitch black in the room so I didn’t get a good look at her skimpy bra, but she let me have a good feel of the lace in the dark. I must have drifted off into one of those light sleeps pretty much straight away ’cos the next thing I was aware of was the sound of heavy breathing coming from underneath Caroline’s mum’s faux
oak coffee table at the other end of the room. I lay there for a while in the dark, listening to this breathing getting heavier and heavier, when it was suddenly punctuated by a low groan!! I hissed at Han to wake up and she stirred and whispered ‘What??’ at me, rather grumpily I thought. I said, ‘I can hear something! Listen!’ and we lay there looking at each other, listening to this breathing getting faster and faster. I said, ‘Do you think they’re okay?’ and Han sighed and said, ‘They will be in a minute.’ I said, ‘You what?’ and she sighed (again) and said, ‘They’re having sex, dopey!’ My eyes widened in the dark and I stifled a giggle. I said to Han, ‘Who do you think it is?’ and peeked out over my sleeping bag, trying to get a glimpse. Han yawned and said, ‘Well, judging by the irritating little squeak she just made when she came, I’d say it was Alice. Now go back to sleep.’

Alice!
Doing it!
With Vince (presumably)! Right there in the corner of the room! Has she no shame? I spent the next 20 minutes listening to Han wriggle and sigh next to me, until finally she rolled over and whispered, ‘Can’t sleep. Got the horn,’ in my ear. I told her to forget it. Alice, whom I’d always thought of as being such an innocent girl, might have the morals of an alley cat, but I sure as hell don’t! Besides, I’d have been too worried someone would hear to concentrate on the—er—matter in hand!!

Monday 12 November

Thought about Alice doing it with Vince over and over again (that is, I thought about it over and over again, not Alice and Vince doing it over and over again—shudder) and wondered why she’d done it. Thought about texting her but, bearing in mind we’ve barely spoken to each other in nearly four months, I thought I could hardly text her out of the blue and ask her why she was shagging him, could I?

I wish there was someone I could talk to about it, but there isn’t. If it was a case of a boy fancying me and me not fancying him back, or something like that, then I could talk to Matty, or Ems, or Caroline about it. We’d have a good laugh about it, think it funny that he chose to get over me by shagging someone right under my nose (so to speak) then forget about it. I can’t do that. I can’t talk to anyone about it, and I can’t seem to forget about it either.

Uncle Buck stayed too long out in the rain today so his fur’s gone all matted! Han texted me tonight to ask me what I was doing, so I sent her a reply saying, ‘I’m brushing my bunny.’ She sent me one back saying, ‘Is that a euphemism?’

Uncle Buck is now shining like a conker once more. I think he was pleased to have been brushed. I definitely detected a spring in his step tonight when I gave him his bedtime carrot.

Tuesday 13 November

HRBH has taken up jogging again. Apparently she’s not losing as much weight as she’d like to on this Health Drive of hers. She says she put on half a stone in a week in Italy but it’s taken her six days to lose just one pound of that. I declined the offer to go jogging with her, bearing in mind I didn’t even make it to the end of the road last time without doubling over with a stitch. I’ve come to the conclusion that me and exercise don’t mix. I just don’t get it; it’s supposed to release endolphins or something, and make you feel great, but all it does for me is make me feel tired and out of breath. Besides, if God really wanted us to be serious about exercise, he’d have made Lycra more forgiving.

Suddenly realised tonight that I didn’t find out anything about Facebook the other day so Googled it when I got in from school today. What a revelation! It’s like this networking thing where you can add friends and leave them messages, post pictures, videos and stuff like that. You can even take quizzes to find out what your name would be if you were a porn star. (I didn’t bother with that, but the point is it’s there, so I could if I wanted to!)

I found Han on there and sent her a request to be my friend, and then did the same for Ems and Matty. Didn’t really want to add Alice, or see her profile, or anything like that—I don’t know why.

But I’ll have three friends on Facebook. How cool is that?!

Wednesday 14 November

Found Caroline on Facebook and added her. So now I have four friends!! Wrote on my profile that I was fed up with all the schoolwork I gotta do at the moment but when I checked just before bed, no one had replied to it.

Thursday 15 November

HRBH has bought herself one of those dance DVDs that bimbos who were in some lousy soap opera, like, five years ago, are always bringing out. Anyway, this one is called
Boogie Your Way to a Better Belly
and is by some bird who came fourth in
I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here
in 2005. She, of course, is built like an ironing board, so she has this air of superiority as she’s jogging on the spot, grinning like a buffoon and telling her unseen audience to ‘squeeze them buttocks.’ Personally, I think it would take an industrial car crusher for HRBH to get her buttocks anywhere near something resembling clenched, but that’s neither here nor there.

Sat and watched HRBH bouncing and do-si-doing up and down the lounge until the sight of all her jiggling, and the nasally northern tones of the Ironing Board on the screen were finally too much for me, and I went to seek sanctuary with Chairman Meow up in my room.

Friday 16 November

Invited Han over after school to have a play on
Boogie Your Way to a Better Belly
, ’cos everyone was out so we could piss about in peace. We dressed up in jogging bottoms and Han put her school tie round her head so she looked a bit like Rambo, and we danced and wiggled along with the bimbette on the screen in front of us. This dance exercise stuff is harder than I realised. I couldn’t keep up with her, and every time she told me to go left, my brain (and legs) sent me right so I kept crashing into Han, who had the dancing down to a fine art and was boogie-ing and side-stepping as if she was the spawn of Jane Fonda or something. I kept tripping over my feet as well, but that was probably because I still had my Snoopy fluffy slippers on.

Started to get a bit grumpy with the whole thing, so flopped down on the sofa and contented myself with watching Han’s jiggling arse from behind, but my viewing pleasure was rudely interrupted when HRBH came home, stomped into the lounge, and turned the bloody DVD off. Somehow I think all the fun left that girl when she hit adolescence.

Saturday 17 November

Me and Han went into town this morning to buy some gear for the My Chemical Romance concert—sorry, gig—tonight!! I went to the pet shop and got myself a wicked studded dog collar, then to the chemist to get some black nail varnish and some black ribbons to tie in my hair. Han’s got some black lipstick and eyeliner at home, and some other bits and pieces that I can wear to complete the look. I also bought a false eyebrow bar ’cos I think they look great, but unlike Han I’m way too squeamish to ever get my brow pierced.

We went back to Han’s afterwards and started putting ourselves together. I have to say, we looked sick! My eyebrow bar looked well cool; I’d smudged black eyeliner round my eyes and put loads of mascara on so my eyes looked wicked as well. Han wore a full-length black leather coat which she said she would be boiled in, but it would be worth it ’cos it looked wicked. She had these black and red striped tights on and her
fuck-off
biker boots, a black mini-skirt and ripped shirt and she looked hot as hell! I wore some skinny jeans and a T-shirt I’d borrowed off Matty which said ‘Bitch Ass’
on it.

Anyway, we came downstairs and presented ourselves to Han’s parents, who were sitting in the lounge watching
Oprah
on the telly. They both looked totally unbothered by our gear, but then I figured Han’s mum’s a nurse so she’s probably seen it all before! Toffee did look a little bit worried but cheered up a bit when Han tickled her ears and coochy-cooed at her.

Han’s dad dropped us off at the venue, with strict instructions ‘not to talk to anyone who looks like they might knife you’, before driving off again. The concert—sorry, gig—was sicker than sick! It was dead hot and dead dark inside and Han did well to keep her leather coat on for a full hour before admitting defeat and taking it off. We bought T-shirts and mugs and posters while the support act was on (we watched them for 10 minutes before deciding they were crap) and then wondered how we managed to spend, like, 50 quid in the space of 2 minutes.

Then it was the concert—sorry, gig! Oh My Actual God! It…was…mental!! I’m not a seasoned gig-goer so I didn’t know what to expect. But there were these kids, no older than ten or eleven, I reckon, dressed from head to foot in black, with various bits of themselves covered in fake tattoos. They wore My Chemical Romance T-shirts, held up banners, and, like, threw themselves down into the mosh-pit five minutes before the band came on and then refused to move for the next hour and a half.