Louise Rennison - Angus, thongs and full-frontal snogging

I just stood there, looking at the space where SG had been. Clutching my apples, Tom said, “That’s forty pence. Did you tell me what school you both go to?”

I came out of my trance and hoped I hadn’t been dribbling. “Er... I...” and I couldn’t remember.

Jas looked at me as if I had gone mad and said, “Oh, it’s only the one we’ve been at for four years, Latimer and Ridgley. Which one do you go to?”

7:00 p.m.

I am still in a state of shock. I have just met Mr Gorgeous. And he is Tom’s brother. And he is gorgeous. He saw me with my mouth open. But, fortunately, not without eyebrows. Oh God! Quick, nurse, the screens!!

7:05 p.m.

I tried opening my mouth in the mirror like I imagine it looked like in the shop. It doesn’t make me look very intelligent but it also doesn’t make my nose look any bigger, which is a plus (of sorts).

1:00 a.m.

I wonder how old he is? I must become more mature quickly. I’ll start tomorrow.

Sunday September 6th

8:00 a.m.

When I walked into the kitchen Dad dropped his cup in a hilarious (not) display of surprise that I was up so early. “What has happened, George, has your bed caught fire? Are you feverish? It’s not midday yet, why are you up?”

I said, “I came down for a cup of hot water, if that’s OK.” (Very cleansing for the system; I must avoid a spot attack at all costs.)

Mum said, “Well, I’m off, Libby, give your big sister a kiss before we go.” Libby gave me a big smacking kiss which was nice but a bit on the porridgey side. Still, I must get on.

10:00 a.m.

I have completed the Cosmo yoga plan for inner peace and confidence. I vow to get up an hour before school and go through the twelve positions of “Sun worship”. I feel great and two or three foot taller. The Sex God will not be able to resist the new, confident, radiant, womanly me.

2:00 p.m.

Face pack done and milk bath taken. I must try and get the milk stains off the bath towel somehow, it already smells a bit sour.

Jas rang. She thinks we should track Tom tomorrow after school. Tom – what is he to me?

4:00 p.m.

Just discovered that Libby has used the last of my sanitary towels to make hammocks for her dolls.

4:30 p.m.

She has also used all of my Starkers foundation cream on her panda: its head is entirely beige now.

5:00 p.m.

I have no other foundation or money. I may have to kill her.

5:15 p.m.

No. Peace. Ohm. Inner peace.

8:00 p.m.

Aahhhh. Early to bed, early to rise.

9:30 p.m.

Woke with a start. Thought it might be time to get up.

Midnight

Should I wear my pencil skirt or not tomorrow.

Monday September 7th

8:30 a.m.

Overslept and had to race to get a lift to Jas’s with my dad. No time for yoga or make-up. Oh well, I’ll start tomorrow. God alone knows how the Dalai Lama copes on a daily basis. He must get up at dawn. Actually, I read somewhere that he does get up at dawn.

8:45 a.m.

Jas and I running like loonies up the hill to the school gate. I thought my head was going to explode I was so red, and also I just remembered I hadn’t got my beret on. I could see Hawkeye at the school gate so no time for the sausage method. I just rammed it on my head. Bugger bugger, pant pant. As we ran up to the gate I catapulted into... the Sex God. He looked DIVINE in his uniform. He was with his mates, having a laugh and just strolling coolly along. He looked at me and said, “You’re keen.” I could have died.

9:00 a.m.

My only hope is that a) he didn’t recognise me and b) if he did recognise me he likes the “flushed, stupid idiot” look in a girl.

9:35 a.m.

After assembly I popped into the loos and looked in the mirror. Worst fears confirmed – I am Mrs Ugly. Small, swollen eyes, hair plastered to my skull, HUGE red nose. I look like a tomato in a school uniform. Well, that is that then.

4:00 p.m.

The bell. Thank God, now I can go home and kill myself.

7:00 p.m.

In bed. Uncle Eddie says there is an unseen force at work of which we have no comprehension... Well, if there is, why is it picking on me?

Tuesday September 8th

8:00 a.m.

Still no time to do my yoga. Not that it matters any more. I did manage to do the sausage beret and the lip-gloss and the concealer. Nothing like shutting the stable door and tarting up the horse after it’s bolted.

8:20 a.m.

Nice and early with Jas. This time we are both ready. We walked up the hill really chatting and laughing. Waving at friends (well actually, waving at anyone, just to give the impression that we are really popular). We walked slowly at the end bit leading up to the gate and although there was the usual crush of Foxwood boys ogling, there was no sign of Tom or SG.

9:30 a.m.

I’d forgotten how utterly crap school is. In assembly there was a bit of chatting going on before Slim took the stage, and do you know what she said? She said, “Settle, girls, settle.” Like we were a bunch of pigeons or doves or something. She’s already started her fascist regime by saying she has been told that some girls were not wearing their berets as they arrived at school. She would like the older girls to set an example to the younger ones, rather than the other way round. Is this what my life is now? Talking about berets? Whilst a Sex God strolls around on the planet? I felt like shouting out, in front of assembly, “Get a life, Slim!! In fact, get two... there’s enough of you!!”

But Hawkeye was looking at me. I know she was thinking about the locusts. She’s always watching me. She’s like a stoat. I don’t think I can stand much more of this and it’s only nine thirty.

5:00 p.m.

What a nightmare! Jas, Ellen, Jools and I are NOT ALLOWED to sit together at the back. I CANNOT BELIEVE IT. Instead, I have been placed next to Nauseating Pamela Green. It is more than flesh and blood can stand. Nauseating P. Green is so boring it makes you want to slit your wrists just looking at her. Plus Hawkeye is our form mistress. Quelle horreur and triple merde. And it’s physics last thing Friday afternoon. What is the point?

Wednesday September 9th

8:40 a.m.

I have perfected putting a little bit of mascara on so that you can’t tell I have got any on.

No sign of the lads.

1:00 p.m.

After lunch Alison Peters and Jackie Mathews came by. They were smoking and I must say they are common girls, but obviously I must not say it to them as I do not want a duffing up, or chewing gum in my tennis shoes.

Jackie said, “We’re doing a new thing tomorrow, it’s a sort of Aleisteir Crowley thing, so you can all come and meet us in 5C form room tomorrow after second lunch.”

Cheers, thanks a lot. Good night. It is, of course, strictly forbidden to be in school after second lunch. I sense something... what is it? Oh yes, it’s my first poor conduct mark coming along.

6:00 p.m.

Is my life over? Is this all there is? Downstairs my parents are laughing at something and in the other room Libby is playing with her dolls. I can hear her talking to them. It’s so sad, that she is so young and she doesn’t know the sadness that lies ahead. That is what is so sad. I can hear her little voice murmuring... what is she saying...?

Oh, it’s “Poor Georgia, poor Georgia.”

Thursday September 10th

5:00 p.m.

Boring day at school, then home to my even more boring home life. I wanted to debrief with Jas but she had to go to the dentist. Jackie and Alison’s proposed Aleisteir Crowley extravaganza was put off this lunchtime, thank the Lord. The message got passed along at assembly that Jackie was off sick. She has started taking sickies very early on in term. Anyway, we are spared whatever they had in mind for a few days. I think they take drugs. Horse tranquillizers, probably.