Жаклин Уилсон - Girls In Love

‘How about a few tips on Human Biology?’ Magda suggested on their way home.

But he was too thick to take up her offer. He might be dead brainy but he’s brain-dead when it come to physical relationships, obviously.

‘It’s not necessarily obvious,’ Magda retorts. ‘I’ve just got to give him time. Redheads are known for their tempestuous natures.’

‘You’re ever so picky about Liam and Greg,’ says Nadine. ‘What’s bugging you, eh, Ellie?’

‘Nothing’s bugging me.’

‘You’re not feeling just the teeniest bit left out?’ says Nadine.

‘Certainly not!’

‘Well, she’s probably fed up because her Dan is so far away and she can’t see him,’ says Magda.

‘If he even exists,’ says Nadine, staring at me very intently.

I feel my heart pounding underneath my blouse. Nadine knows me so well. I hate the way her green eyes are gleaming.

‘Oh yes, he’s a figment of my imagination,’ I say, staring at them both. I pause. Then I feel in my skirt pocket and produce my crumpled letter. ‘A figment of my imagination who somehow miraculously has managed to write to me,’ I say, flashing the letter in their faces.

I cover up most of the words but I show them the important part: Love from Dan .

There’s no way I can ever tell the truth now. So I’m stuck. Treading in treacle, superglued into silence.

I write back to Dan. Mostly because I need him to write back to me again so I can show off his letter to Nadine and Magda. Which is so mean.

He writes back. And I write back. And he writes back. And so it goes on. They’re just silly letters. He goes on about school and stuff and things he’s reading and he tells a lot of corny old jokes. He puts ‘Love from Dan’ at the end each time, but they’re not love letters.

Dad says we’re like Elizabeth Barrett and Robert Browning and sniggers. They are dead poets. I mutter something ultra-unpoetical along the lines that I wish Dad were dead too. Dad hears and gets narked and says I’ve completely lost my sense of humour. Anna surprisingly takes my side. She says Dad’s crass and insensitive and she’s sick of it, so goodness knows how Ellie feels. Both Dad and I blink at her a bit. She doesn’t usually rush to my defence. I think maybe she and Dad have had a row. I heard a lot of angry whispers last night after Anna got back from her evening class. I don’t know what’s going on with them. I don’t know what’s going on with me .

I haven’t even seen the dream Dan again. I caught the bus for a bit because Mrs Henderson was giving me so many detentions it was getting like I’d be stuck at school for a full twenty-four hours. But I chance walking today. I even hang around a second on the street where we met. Longer than a second actually. More like fifteen minutes. And I still don’t get to see him. And I get another detention.

It’s quite companionable actually because Nadine is doing a detention too. It’s just the two of us. Mrs Henderson makes us write out lines , would you believe? I had to write out: I MUST PULL MYSELF TOGETHER AND TRY TO BE ON TIME.

I write it one hundred times. I don’t feel pulled together. I feel as if I’m flying apart. And I tried to be on time to see Dream Dan. I couldn’t try any harder if I wrote it out one million times.

Nadine’s line is shorter than mine so even though she writes in an elaborate twirly way she still gets finished first. One hundred times: I MUST NOT BE INSOLANT.

She came to school with this amazing love-bite on her neck, a big blotch that looked impressively purple on her white skin.

‘For God’s sake, your Liam must have a mouth like a vacuum cleaner,’ said Magda.

‘Well, Nadine’s always had a thing about vampires,’ I said, trying to sound funny and flippant.

I couldn’t stop staring at Nadine’s love-bite. When we were little we used to experiment, sucking on each other’s arms to see what it felt like. When we got older we agreed love-bites were gross . And yet now Nadine had one right at the front of her neck so that it wasn’t even hidden by her hair. I tried not to think of Liam doing it to her but I couldn’t help it. It made me feel so weird. I couldn’t work out which I felt most, disgusted or envious.

Mrs Henderson’s feelings were more straightforward. ‘I think you need to go to the medical cupboard for a sticky plaster, Nadine,’ she said coldly. ‘I don’t want to look at that stupid mark on your neck. Surely you realize how silly it is to let someone do that to you. It’s not exactly treating you with respect, is it? Let alone risking serious infection.’

Nadine scowled. ‘Bet you’re just jealous,’ she muttered.

Not quietly enough. She got her detention too.

Mrs Henderson leaves us to finish our lines while she goes off to supervise a hockey practice.

‘Well, I’ve done my stupid lines so I don’t see why I can’t go now,’ says Nadine, fidgeting.

‘She said we had to wait till she came back.’

‘It’s ridiculous. She’s got no right to comment on what I do out of school hours,’ says Nadine, fingering the plaster covering her bite.

‘What on earth did your mum and dad say when they saw it?

‘Don’t be mad! I wound this scarf right round my neck, right? I tell you, if they found out about Liam they’d go seriously bananas.’

‘Nadine?’

‘What?’ She doesn’t bother to look up. She gets a magazine out of her schoolbag and starts flipping through the pages.

Nadine used to despise teen mags. She just read weird fanzines about her favourite bands and horror stories. But now she’s reading this problem page as if her life depends on it.

‘What’s it feel like? You know – the love-bite?’

Nadine shrugs.

‘Did you want him to do it?’

‘Well, he wants to do a lot more .’

‘And . . . do you let him?’

Nadine wriggles. ‘Well, some things.’ She hesitates. ‘Look, keep this a secret, right? Don’t even tell Magda.’ There’s no-one else in the room but she still leans forward and then whispers.

‘Nadine!’ I say, stunned.

‘Well, what’s wrong with that, eh?’ says Nadine. ‘Honestly, Ellie, you’re such a baby.’

‘No, I’m not.’

‘Everyone does that with their boyfriends.’

‘Do they?’

‘Well, I take it you don’t do it with Dan.’ Nadine looks at me sharply.

I try to imagine such intimacy with both my Dans. I think of doing it with the dream Dan and the blood starts beating in my own neck. Then I think of doing it with the real Dan and I practically crack up laughing.

‘What are you grinning about?’ says Nadine. ‘So you did fool around with your Dan.’

We’d certainly make fools of ourselves! ‘Chance would be a fine thing,’ I mutter. ‘We don’t see each other, do we?’

Dan (real, of course) has been nagging me to go and stay with him or invite him down to London. I keep putting him off with elaborate excuses, but it’s getting a bit awkward. The whole situation is so difficult I let out this long sigh.

‘Do you really miss him, Ellie?’ says Nadine softly. She puts her arm round me, crumpling her magazine.