Love Is a Many Trousered Thing

by Louise Rennison

  He looked at me again, and then he looked over to where his girlfriend was talking to her mates. She waved at him and he waved back. He said, “Well, I think that Robbie does like you, but he is not sure where he stands and he doesn’t know what is going on with Masimo, so he is playing it near to his chest and cool bananas.”

  I love Dave the Laugh.

  But only in a, you know, matey way.

  Then we saw Masimo coming our way. He was being stopped by girls as he pushed his way through the crowds.

  Dave said, “Oy hold up, here comes the Italian Stallion. I hope he is not going to hit me with his handbag because I am talking to you.”

  I said, “Dave, he hasn’t got a handbag.”

  But Dave still wouldn’t leave it alone. He said, “Well I hope he doesn’t hit me with his sports bra then.”

  He really is vair vair annoying.

  Masimo came up to us then, and Dave said, “Cracking set. I’m just off to the wazzarium.” And he went off.

  Masimo said, “He is going to the wazzranium? What is this?”

  Oh dear God. I said, “Well it’s, you know, like the boys…erm…piddly diddly…no no, forget that. Er, he’s gone to the loo.”

  Masimo smiled. “My English is still, how you say…?”

  And I said, “Crapio?”

  fifteen minutes later

  I am on cloud ninety-five, I think. Masimo is catching his plane to Italy early in the morning and he said he has to pack up after the gig, but can he meet me and I can go round to his place and see him off. I said yes, but this is going to take some planning. Jas will have a spaz attack if I don’t report back to Jas Headquarters like I am supposed to do. So my cunning plan is this. I go home with Jazzy, do pretendy going to bed, slip out of her house when everyone has gone to bed (using Jas’s key, which she will lend me) and meet Masimo for a few hours. Then he drops me back at Jas’s in time for me to do pretendy getting up after a good night’s sleep.

  All I have to do now is to explain to Jas what an excellent plan it is.

  Perhaps I could just hit her over the head with a particularly heavy owl and sneak out.

  11:45 p.m.

  How cool!! Robbie joined in with the last two songs of the gig. We are all dancing like loons. But loons that have sophisticosity and whatsit. It was fabby having two singers, they sounded really groovy together. I don’t know why we can’t have a ménage à trois actually…. Everyone does in la belle France.

  midnight

  Getting our coats. Robbie strolled over and said, “Alright, girls?”

  Then he smiled at me. “I haven’t had much chance to talk to you, Georgia, do you need a lift home?”

  Oh Blimey O’Reilly’s trousers…he really did have dreamy blue eyes, really dark blue like a dark blue sea or like a…hang on a minute, my lips were puckering up without my permission!! Stop it, stop it!!!

  I said, “Well I’m staying at Jas’s, but…”

  At which point in unusually crap timing even for her, the creature from the lagoon, Wet Lindsay, came sliming up. She totally ignorez-voused me and linked up with Robbie and said to him, “How about that drink you promised me?”

  Robbie looked at me and I looked at him. Now was the time for me to say, “I need to talk to you.” Yeah, that was the thing to do now. But if anyone knows what to do it won’t be me. Lindsay said to me, “Bye-bye, don’t be late home,” and started leading Robbie off. And I just stood there not saying anything.

  He turned back and said, “Maybe another time, Georgia?”

  Wet Lindsay turned back as well and gave me the evils.

  What a prizewinning cow she is.

  five minutes later

  I was still spluttering about her. “What a slimey octopussy cow she is!! She made Robbie have a drink with her. He said, ‘Do you want a lift home, Georgia?’ and there she was like the bride of a jelly fish, lurking and sliming about.”

  Rosie said, “We must eat her; it’s the only solution.”

  As we left the club, Masimo was packing up on the stage and he shouted to me, “Ciao, Georgia, see you soon.”

  And all the girls who had been hovering around looked over at me and THEY gave me the evils. If I was a voodoo doll I’d be covered in pins from head to foot.

  I waved back in a casualosity-at-all-times way. Ooooh I don’t know what to think.

  Ellen started dithering for England, “Er, what, why did he…I mean, what does he mean ‘see you soon’?”

  I said, “Well I am going round to his house later.”

  Rosie said, “I thought you were staying at Jas’s?”

  I said, “Well I am in principle, but then I am going to sneak out and he will pick me up at the end of Jas’s road.”

  Jools said, “Blimey.”

  I said, “I know. Pizza-a-gogo-type snogging for me. I’ll let you know if he does any unexpected tongue work.”

  Mabs said, “How has Jas explained it to her mum and dad? There’s no way I could get out of my house without the flying squad being called.”

  I said, “Oh, well they are cool with it.”

  They all looked at me.

  Rosie said, “You haven’t told Jas, have you?”

  “Well, not as such.”

  Rosie said, “She will have a nervy b. and probably pop off to Strop Central.”

  God, life is complicated. As I said to Rosie, “This is what comes of being too likeable.”

  She said, “Who?”

  “Me.”

  She did that slapping me on both cheeks thing she does and said, “Don’t be mad.”

  walking home with the gang

  I made them shut up about my night visit to Luuurve land when Jas and Tom came and joined us to walk home.

  four minutes later

  I think I might be in a good mood. Because a Luuurve God in the hand is worth two on the bus, and I am meeting up with a Luuurve God later even if a Sex God has gone off on the bus…anyway, you get my drift.

  I am even in the mood to join in with the mad ramblings of Radio Jas. She was all snuggled up with Tom as we ambled along, and every now and again they would stop and have a little kiss. Not full-on snogging, but just a pecky affair. Sweet, really. If you like that sort of thing.

  Just then there was a mad ringing of a bell fiasco and Sven came riding up on a child’s bike.

  “Hi girls, rock and roll!!!”

  And he did a wheelie before crashing into a tree. Then he just left the bike on the ground and got hold of Rosie and put her over his shoulder. You could see her knickers. Sven said, “I am a wild and crazy guy!!!”

  He’s not wrong there. Rosie said from upside down, “Tatty bye! Sven and I are going to snog for a bit.”

  And he peeled off into the park. With his hump/girlfriend.

  Ellen and Jools and Mabs and Honor were all being taken home by Mabs’s dad. She had made him park two streets away from the market in case anyone saw him. And also as a double precaution he had to pretend to be reading a newspaper so that none of her friends could see his head. You see they say that teenagers show no initiative and so on, but we are constantly having to think about this sort of thing. It is vair vair tiring.

  After we’d said s’laters to everybody, Jas and Tom and I continued on to her place. Tom said, “Good gig, wasn’t it? He’s a cool guy, Masimo. Don’t you think so, Gee?”

  It is a bit awkward for me being completely honest around Tom, him being Robbie’s brother and so on.

  I sort of mumbled something.

  Jas said, “Yeah, do you think he is cool, Georgia?” and looked at me in a meaningful way. I didn’t say anything so she opened her eyes really wide and raised her eyebrows. I raised my eyebrows back at her. We could have gone on doing that all night, but then Tom said, “So have you had ‘the talk’ with my bro?”

  I said, “Well, erm, not really. He went off with Lindsay.”

  Tom said, “Yeah well, I wouldn’t exactly call it that, she sort of made him take her for a drink, that i
sn’t the same as him asking her for a drink.”

  I decided to take the bull by the legs and hurl it about a bit and strap a little hat on its head and…shut up, brain. I decided to ask Tom what he thought was going on.

  I said, “Has Robbie said anything about what he thinks about me?”

  Tom shuffled about a bit and said, “Well, he’s always said how much he liked you, and that he was really sorry that it didn’t work out between you…and that it was, like, more or less just to do with the fact that he thought you were a bit…well, young for him.”

  Jas said, “She is too young for him, she’s too young for anyone, actually….”

  I looked at her and said, “Oh thanks, besty pal.”

  She was in Wise Mavis of the Woods mood though, she should get a stick and grow a beard. Ramble ramble. “I am just being realistic, Gee, you are not a serious sort of person, you are giddy, you like snot dancing and so on, you are not ready for a proper relationship, you just want to blow your horn and so on. That is just le fact.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. Perhaps she is right. Perhaps I am a hollow sham of a person who will end up on my own in a cellar. Or as the coowner of a corduroy shop with Miss Wilson.

  It made me feel a bit miz. Not as miz as I felt ten minutes later when I had to hang around the garage like a goosegog whilst Jas and Tom kissed good night. I wasn’t allowed to go into the house because Jas said we had to go into the house together. I would have ignored her, but I still hadn’t broken the news about my early morning Snog Fest. I tried not to notice them, but I could sort of hear them snogging. Squelchy noises and breathing and rustling. It was like being a pervy. In fact I had become the female equivalent of Elvis Attwood. Bloody hell.

  four years later

  Eventually Jas dragged herself away from Tom and after about ninety-five years of her saying “Bye, then,” and then rushing after him for one last kiss I managed to get her through the door.

  jas’s house

  Jas’s mum came into the kitchen in her (sensible) nightie. No suggestion of nungas akimbo like there would have been round at my house. She said, “Did you have a good time, girls? I have left some snacks out for you, you must be ravenous. I’m off to bed. I made the bed all snuggly for you. Night, God bless.”

  And she went off. Amazing. No third degree. No “And who did you dance with, was there any snogging?” from Mum or “What bloody time do you call this, you treat this house like a bloody hotel” from Dad. Just some snacks and good night.

  Quite, quite amazing.

  upstairs

  Jas was ages in the bathroom. What is she doing in there?

  I said through the door, “Jas, what are you doing in there?”

  She said, “I am applying nighttime moisturizer.”

  Good Lord. She must have used a bucket of it by now.

  in bed

  I am fully dressed.

  Jas said, “Georgia, you are fully dressed.”

  “I know, I am going out in a minute.”

  She said, “What???”

  I said, “Yes I told you, I am being picked up by Masimo at one a.m. He is setting off to the airport at three a.m. so I should be back about then.”

  She said, “You did not tell me you were meeting Masimo, but it doesn’t matter because you are not meeting him. That is a fact.”

  “Jazzy.”

  “And anyway, what about Robbie? What have you told him? What will he think about it? Anyway, he won’t think anything about it because you’re not meeting Masimo.”

  “Jazzy.”

  “No, if you get caught I will be grounded for years.”

  “Yes, but Jazzy, I will not be caught, I will just do creepy creep out of the back door using your key, creepy creep down to the bottom of the street, be picked up by my gorgey fabby Luuurve God, snog, chat, snog, chat, maybe do a bit of quiet crying as he says arrivederci. But not enough crying to spoil my eye makeup. And also I will be seeing him quite soon when I go on my holiday to Rome.”

  Jas was having a massive tizz and hump, even for her.

  “This is so typical of you. If anyone gets into trouble it will be me, and you probably won’t do creepy creep, you’ll probably fall over something and wake everyone up and even if you do get back into the house you will go into the wrong bedroom or something.”

  I gave her a big hug.

  “Don’t you want me to be happy, Jazzy?”

  “No.”

  That’s nice, isn’t it?

  I said, “Look, I’ll do a practice creep now, I’ll creep into the kitchen and see if you can hear me.”

  12:30 a.m.

  I can’t believe this. Jas made such a fuss about me making a noise, but by the time I got back from creeping around she had fallen asleep!!!

  There is a similarity between Jas’s house and mine, her vati and mutti both snore. Which is good because it means they are asleep.

  12:50 a.m.

  I wonder what it will be like being with Masimo? For two hours? All aloney with the Luuurve God. Or maybe Dom, his flat mate, will be there and we won’t get time to snog. Sacré bleu!

  in the bathroom

  I look OK. I don’t know whether to do just lip gloss because of the maybe snognosity of the situation, or to rely on the lip sealant stuff and do full lippy.

  Ohhhh I don’t know.

  12:55 a.m.

  Time to girdey the loins and pucker up.

  Crept downstairs and into the kitchen…I had already opened the back door so that I wouldn’t make any noise at all. Stepped out into the back garden. Stars all twinkling about in the sky. Looking down on me like twinkly, erm, twinkly things.

  I know that I had said they were useless, like sort of dim blinky torches, but now I could see that they were jolly. Like tiny jolly lights, lighting my way to a snogathon. That’s how good a mood I was in.

  Vair vair good.

  1:05 a.m.

  Sitting on a garden wall at the end of Jas’s street.

  Brr, it’s a bit nippy noodles even though it is the middle of summer. And a bit quiet and creepy.

  Maybe he won’t come? Maybe he was talking to the rest of the Stiff Dylans about me and they said, “Are you mad, mate?” Or maybe his ex-girlfriend phoned up and they have decided to get back together, or…

  And that’s when I heard his scooter approaching.

  I stood up. Then I sat down again. What would a cool person do? Would they stand up or sit down in a casualosity-at-all-times sort of way? I wish I smoked, at least I would have something in my hand. Although with my luck, I would probably set fire to my head. I know what, I could be looking through my bag and just look up when he got to me.

  I started rustling about in my bag as the scooter got nearer. Then he was there. I looked up and he was sitting on his scooter. He took his helmet off and shook his hair loose. Good grief and jelloid leggies akimbo. He was quite literally gorgeous. And he had actually come to see me. For once I just felt sooooo happy to be me. And lucky. I was in love with the world. Yes, even Jazzy. The whole wide world. Apart from Wet Lindsay.

  Masimo smiled and said, “Ciao, caro,” and blew me a kiss. Then he got the spare helmet and patted the seat behind him. “Come, let us ride.”

  It was like being in a film. He even put the helmet on for me and as he fastened the chin strap he kissed me on the lips. I really did nearly fall over. Then he said to me, “Are you OK, safe? Hold on to me.”

  I put my hands on his waist. Blimey, touching him was like getting an electric shock. Beam me up, Scotty, as they say in one of those TV things that boys like so much, full of people from other planets with weird heads like cauliflowers. Why do boys like things that look so weird—hobbits and elves and mekons and so on? I don’t know and I don’t care because I have got a Luuuurve God in my hands who hasn’t got a cauliflower for a head. And who LIKES me!!!

  Yessssssss!!! I had a song in my heart, and it was not “Funky Moped” by Jasper Carrott.

  We drove through th
e dark streets, it was absolutely fabby. There were still a few people coming home from clubs singing and dancing around. We pulled up at a traffic light and Masimo said, “I thought we would go to my place and I can give you Italian coffee…and other Italian things.”

  Blimey O’Reilly’s trousers. At this rate, I wouldn’t be able to get off the bike for jelloidness.

  1:30 a.m.

  Masimo’s flat is cool. He shares it with Dom and a mate of Dom’s. It’s quite tidy and there is no undercrackers pile like in Mum and Dad’s room. I wonder what sort of undercrackers Masimo wears? Italian-type ones. Maybe musical ones that play “Arrivederci Roma” or “Nessun Dorma.” No, no Masimo would never wear novelty undercrackers…Why have I wandered into the underwear department?

  Masimo has made me proper coffee in a machine-type thing, with some little biscuits that taste of almond. I feel très European. As I sipped my coffee, he finished his packing. He had some cool shirts.

  When he finished he shut his case and looked at me. “So, Miss Georgia, does Robbie know about us?”

  I looked at him. “Well, he…I…”

  Masimo put his arms around me. “Perhaps I can help you, caro…”

  2:30 a.m.

  Crikey, I feel like a dozy bumble bee. Masimo has to be the best snogger ever. He kissed me really slowly for ages without a break. It wasn’t even No. 4 (kiss lasting three minutes without a break), it was more like No. 4 times three (a kiss lasting at least a quarter of an hour).

  And he talks and stuff. Not whilst we are snogging, because clearly you wouldn’t be able to know what he was saying, other than “nnuummppphhhmmmernuummmpphh.” But what I mean is the in-betweeny bits, when he’d stop kissing me and then look in my eyes and stroke my hair. Saying stuff like bellissima and so on. And for a bit he was running his hands up from the bottom of my throat to my lips and then putting his fingers just slightly in my mouth. Gadzooks! It was fabby. Apparently girls are supposed to have about two hundred thousand million more sensory nerves than boys. We are pleasure machines!!!

  Masimo seemed to like it just as much as me.