Louise Rennison_Georgia Nicolson 05 (17 page)

“Oh Jas, I am so full of confusiosity.”

I told her what had happened. She sounded as if she were thinking, you could quite literally hear the cogs in her brain going round. Then she said, “So what you are saying is that officially, you didn't even get on the snogging scale with Masimo.”

“Well…no, we didn't…I mean, he handed me my Coke and touched my hand.”

“But he didn't hold it?”

“No.”

“Well, it's not number one then, is it? Unless you've added ‘handing over a Coke' onto the snogging scale without telling me. And what number would ‘handing over a Coke' be, anyway? You might as well have a number for ‘saying hello' or…”

She was beginning to annoy me quite badly. She is the opposite of telepathic; she is telepathetic, because she just goes on and on no matter how much she should just shut up. On and on she rambled…

“So, he didn't put his arm around you, so that's nil points so far. What kind of good-night kiss was it?”

“Well, you know, he put his lips on mine and—”

“For how long?”

“Er…about er two seconds.”

“Two seconds??”

“Yes.”

“Two seconds??”

“Yes yes, how many more times?”

“He put his lips on yours for two seconds?”

“YES, JAS!!”

“Well, that's not a kiss, is it? My aunties do that.”

Then I finally snapped.

“Well, that is because you have lezzie aunties, my aunties don't put their lips on mine.”

“I have not got lezzie aunties!!”

It deteriorated after that and we both did stereo phone banging down.

1:00 p.m.

I tried to eat but it's no use, my tummy is all knotted up.

Jas is right actually. I got nil points on the snogging scale because Masimo didn't want to snog me.

He wants to snog Wet Lindsay, but not me.

What is so wrong with me?

2:30 p.m.

Looked in the mirror.

There is the spready nose thing. Could that be it? But Robbie and Dave the Laugh didn't seem to mind it.

My eyes are OK. I got mostly eights for them.

And my hair is OK. It's a bit of a boring brown, but since the snapping off incident I haven't wanted to mess about too much.

My eyebrows are more or less under control.

Oh, I don't know.

Perhaps it is my nose. Someone did give me zero for it.

And that was its highest mark.

3:30 p.m.

Phone rang. It was Rosie.

“Gee, why haven't you rung me with all the goss?”

“Because there isn't any. Masimo gave me a sort of peck on the lips and said I was sweet and that he was going to ‘Late and Live' with Lindsay.”

Rosie went quiet and then she said, “OK, my little pally, I think we need to call an extraordinary meeting of the ace gang. Be round at my house at
four p.m. for snacks.”

I love Rosie.

But not in a Jas's auntie way.

4:10 p.m.

Rosie has made jam sandwiches with the crusts cut off as a special invalid dish for me.

She said, “Everything is going to be alright. I've got oven chips for later.”

God, I think I am becoming a lezzie. It would be a damn sight easier than living in Heartbreak Hotel all the time.

Jools, Ellen and Mabs arrived, and Jools said, “To open our official ace gang meeting and as a tribute to Billy Shakespeare, Miss Wilson's boyfriend, I say, ‘Let us indeed goeth downeth the disco!!'”

And we did our special disco inferno routine. Which I did have to say cheered me up.

We were all lolling and panting on the sofa when the doorbell rang.

Rosie came back in with Jas. We looked at each other and she said, “I am preparing myself to forgive you.”

Which is tosh and a facsimile of a sham, as it
is her who is in the wrong. It's not my fault she has lesbian aunties. But I didn't say that because frankly I need all the friend support I can get.

I told them my Masimo story and they all nodded wisely and fed me jam sandwiches.

At the end I said, “So what do you think?”

Rosie looked very very wise and owly and said, “Well, after hearing everything…this is what I think. Number one, he's Italian.”

We all nodded.

“Number two, he is a boy.”

We all nodded again. It was like a nodding dog convention. Rosie was just looking at me, nodding her head. I said after about twenty-five years of nodding, “Yes, and so?”

She said, “So…frankly, I haven't got a clue what it means.”

The rest of them all went, “No, me neither…”

Qu'est-ce que c'est le
point????

sunday may 1st

I am going quite literally bonkers. I hardly slept last night. Masimo was going to go to “Late and Live” with Lindsay, so from about seven p.m. that was all I could think about.

How could he like her?

I suppose she is older than me.

But so is Slim, our revered headmistress, and Masimo doesn't fancy her.

I don't think.

Although anything could happen in a life full of people with no foreheads and lesbian aunties.

Now I really feel sick. I've just had an image of Slim in a short skirt with her massive elephantine legs jellying around on the back of Masimo's scooter going off to some gig.

9:30 a.m.

Not that it would drive off if she were on the back of it.

In fact if she sat on the back of it, Masimo would probably shoot up into the air. Which would be a good thing.

9:40 a.m.

No it wouldn't. I really like him; it's not his fault he wants to have fun after a serious relationship. I cannot point the finger of shame at anyone with the General Horn. I too have heard the call of the Horn.

10:00 a.m.

But I really do like him.

It is just not fair that he doesn't like me.

lunchtime

I've got big bags under my eyes. And I think I might have lost weight; I've only had jam sandwiches and oven chips for the last twenty-four hours. And cornies and toast that Mum brought me this morning, but that's all.

2:00 p.m.

All alone again, the Mad have gone to Grandad's. Yesterday was the Clown convention and now today is the Mad convention.

Angus, Gordy and Naomi are all in their bachelor pad, the Prat Poodles' kennel. Mr. and Mrs. Next Door have gone out and left the Prat Poodles to the mercy of the kittykats. Angus, Gordy and Naomi have finished the nice doggie dinner they found in the kennel and are now having an after-lunch game of Chuck the Squeaking Bone About. It is driving the Prat Poodles insane but they daren't come out from behind the dustbins.

3:00 p.m.

I've tried everything to take my mind off Masimo—played really loud music, yoga, chanting, praying to Baby Jesus, plucking my eyebrows; in the end I was so sheer desperadoes I even did my German homework.

4:00 p.m.

Rang Dave the Laugh. He answered the phone.

“Dave, it's me, Georgia.”

“Aha, hello Sex Kitty, just couldn't help yourself then. I know what you mean. I may have to get bodyguards soon, I'm so gorgeous. Sometimes I want to snog myself.”

“Dave, I…want…well…”

Oh God I was going to blub.

He said, “What is it?”

I said, “I'm really really upset.”

He sounded serious. “Are you, pet? Why? Tell me, or shall I come round?”

I said, “Well, I suppose you're…well…busy.”

“Do you mean am I with Rachel? You know what I told you about boys, Georgia, you have to spell it out, you can't be subtle.”

“Yes, OK, are you with Rachel?”

“No, I'm not, we went to ‘Late and Live' and it was a late one, so she's with her family…anyway, whatever, shall I come over?”

5:00 p.m.

Dave and I walked over the back fields, even though it was extremely nippy noodles. I told him what had happened. He said, “Yeah, I saw Lindsay and Masimo last night, he's incredibly flash, Georgia, he had a suit on, although I must say I didn't see his handbag.”

I knew I should have been expecting it, but I still just wanted to blub. Dave put his arm around me. “Listen, I'll tell you the truth from a Horn Master's point of view. I think Masimo is playing the field. He can have anyone he wants so he's bound to be tempted. You said that he had a serious thing in Italy—and he wants to get over that and have fun. But I do I think he likes you, because, well, despite being certifiably insane you are a lovely, funny Sex Kitty. And actually you are quite a sweet person.”

I couldn't help it, I gave him a really big hug and tears came out of my eyes. Dave got out his
hankie and dabbed them away. Thank God I'd thought better of wearing my boy entrancers. Who knows what would have happened when Dave dabbed my eyes. I could have ended up with a false mustache.

10:00 p.m.

Dave's advice is to not give up and be cheerful, but to be realistic. He says I should believe in myself and think I am the bees knees and then other people (boys) and maybe even Masimo will think I am too.

I don't know why, but I sort of believe him.

He's actually a great mate.

And Horn advisor.

He's a proper boy mate.

Who's like a mate.

And not a boyfriend.

It's relaxing just to talk to a boy and not have snogging on the menu of life.

midnight

So how come we got to number six??

monday may 2nd

Pelting down.

I said to Jas as we trudged along under our umbies, “My heartbreak has given me a new dignitosity.”

Jas said, “Is that why you are walking funny?”

I gave her my special biffing on the arm that makes your arm go paralyzed. It was her umbie-holding arm and she nearly speared a couple of first formers walking in front of us. That perked them up.

assembly

Uh-oh, it's the fainting season again. We usually have an outbreak just before exams. Kathy Smith and Rosemary Duvall keeled over during “All Things Bright and Beautiful” and had to be carried out. Lucky swine. Slim said, “Settle, girls, settle, they will be quite alright.”

Just then Isabella King crashed to the ground. They were falling like flies. I might try it myself, we've got double physics next. Unfortunately Hawkeye was on the warpath; I could see her giving Isabella the third degree.

Slim was still aquiver. “You must all make sure you have a good breakfast; not eating causes fainting.”

I said out of the side of my mouth, “No danger
of her keeling over then. Do you reckon she stores extra supplies in her chins?”

Rosie started uncontrollable laughing. I can feel hysteria coming on.

As we left the hall, Wet Lindsay was beaking about. I looked at her and she had a really smug look on her face. She is so thin and useless, what can Masimo see in her?

physics

We liberated the anatomy skeleton from the blodge lab and put “Fatty,” as we call him, in science overalls. We sat him at the back in between me and Rosie. Herr Kamyer is so duff that he didn't even notice until the skeleton put his hand up to answer a question.

lunchtime

Ace gang meeting in the Science block lavs. I told them what my Horn advisor had said—well, I didn't actually say that Dave had told me, I let them think it was my own wisdomosity—and they all started nodding.

I said, “Please don't start the nodding fiasco again.”

Jools said, “So what's your plan—are you going to kill Lindsay?”

I said, “No, that would be childish. And I am displaying maturiosity these days. So I am not going to kill her; we are all going to start a staring campaign.”

The plan is that we all stare at a part of Lindsay every time we see her. Like her nose. Or her lack of forehead. Or her stick legs. And so on. She will get paranoid that she has a bogey hanging out of her nose, or her skirt is tucked in her knickers and so on.

The second part of my mistress plan is to get in tip-top physical condition by going running every day. Then when I am fit as a frog I will casually find out where Masimo goes running and turn up. Like a fabulous running Sex Kitty. And he will be bowled over by my charms, although hopefully not by my nunga-nungas.

I will wear my new sports bra to keep them under control.

Simple pimple.

3:00 p.m.

Excellent progress in the staring campaign. I gazed at Lindsay's chin when she was talking to
her stupid tragic pals in the corridor. She got all shuffly and then I noticed she went off to the loos. Obviously thinks that she has got a lurker. Hahahahaha.
Excellente!!

3:45 p.m.

Jools, Ellen and Jas all gazed at the top of her head and they said she went off to the loos again.

She'll be practically living in there by the time we have finished.

4:30 p.m

Rightio. Part two of my Luuuurve plan. Running begins.

4:32 p.m.

It has stopped raining but Gordon Bennet it's nippy noodles, I can see my breath freezing. No chance of nip nip emergence, though, because I have got my nungas safely strapped in.

5:00 p.m.

Phew, I'm boiling and out of breath. I thought I would be quite fit after hockey and everything but I'm not.

5:10 p.m.

I might not be able to breathe but at least I am not being knocked out by my basoomas.

5:15 p.m.

Right, I'm going to just cut across the top of the field and then come down the hill and come home.

Can heads explode? Because I think mine is going to.

5:16 p.m.

There is some other fool out running. I can hear pounding along behind me but I haven't got the strength to look round. When I get home I am going to get in the fridge I am so hot and red.