by Lil Chase
Jenny looks at me and says, really nicely, ‘Oh, don’t worry, Gwynnie. My sister, Stephanie, knows loads of really cool DJs; I’ll get her to find someone.’ Suddenly I don’t look so cool any more, but Jenny quickly says, ‘Thanks though.’
Julie Innis announces that we are about to play Postman’s Knock in the living room.
Charlie looks at me and winks. ‘A Ministry of Sound DJ would be so cool.’
I catch Jenny looking at me. ‘Yeah, Gwynnie,’ she says. ‘We should all go there some time. You know, if you think you could get in.’
Please let it land on Charlie. Please let it land on Charlie.
It’s my turn to spin the bottle and I’m praying that it will land on Charlie so me and him will have to go in the cupboard and snog for ages. As the bottle turns I see Jenny look at her mobile phone for like the millionth time in the past twenty minutes. And that’s a lot, even for her.
No one knows what happens when you are locked in the cupboard together, and the rule is you are not allowed to ask. But when Rosie Perry went in with Hamza Fenton we knocked on the door after their two minutes and they came out smiling and blushing. When Shelly Nettles went in with Guy Holloway they were still properly getting off with each other and we had to demand they come out. When Samantha Hill went in with Robert Mower they actually came out before the two minutes was up – Robert was basically running out of there. And when Mandy Palmer got Aaron Webb she actually refused to go in with him, which is totally against the rules, but she said we couldn’t force her and I suppose she’s right.
So the whole Postman’s Knock thing could go either way.
Here I am, the bottle’s spinning around and I am using up all my wish quota for the rest of my life to wish that it lands on Charlie Notts. If it does, I swear I will never ask for anything ever again.
I don’t believe it . . . It’s worked! The bottle lid is pointing directly at Charlie.
Please don’t let him refuse to go in the cupboard with me.
Chapter 19
‘Come on then, Gwynnie!’ Charlie orders me into the cupboard.
‘OK, you two,’ says Julie Innis. ‘You’ve got two minutes.’ She starts the timer before we’re even in the room.
I have just two minutes in a dark room with Charlie to make him snog my face off and completely fall in love with me. No problem.
‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do . . . which doesn’t mean much.’ She must have heard the same thing that Jenny heard about letting boys know you’re willing to do stuff.
He opens the cupboard door for me and closes it behind him, leaving us in total darkness.
‘Gwynnie?’ he whispers.
‘Yeah?’
‘Do you think we should kiss?’
Yesyesyesyesyesyesyes. ‘Everyone will think we’re weird if we don’t,’ I say, hoping he can’t hear my heart banging through my open mouth.
‘You’re right.’
‘But we don’t have to kiss just because everyone thinks we should.’
Why am I talking Charlie out of kissing me?
‘Gwynnie?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Come here.’
I feel his hands reaching out for mine. He takes my hands and pulls me closer to him. The trouble is, neither of us can see where our lips are, so the first thing that happens is that I lick his shoulder.
I am mortified, but Charlie laughs and I suppose it is quite funny, so I laugh too.
‘Gwynnie?’
‘Yeah?’
‘So that we avoid headbutting each other unconscious, how about I hold your face in my hands?’
‘Swrmph flllrrr.’ I can’t speak I’m so excited.
‘What was that?’
‘I said, Sure, good idea.’
He laughs again and lifts his hands to touch my face and he kind of brushes my boob as he passes. I don’t think he meant to . . . but still. He holds my head and pulls me towards him.
Just as we’re about to kiss my phone beeps.
‘What was that?’ he asks.
‘I didn’t hear anything,’ I say.
‘I think it was your phone. You better check.’
I hate this flipping phone (ironically enough, it is a flip phone). ‘OK,’ I say. ‘It’ll probably be nothing though.’
I flip open the flipping phone. ‘It’s Paul.’
hi g. im outside. julie innis wont let me in and jennys not answering my txts. come outside and get me will u?
I’m ashamed to say that if Charlie wasn’t reading the message over my shoulder I don’t know what I would have done.
‘We better go and get him,’ I say, knowing that Charlie would want me to.
We come out of the cupboard and everyone is looking at us because we’ve been in there less than two minutes. Paul owes me big time.
I’m too sad to say anything but Charlie says, ‘We’ve decided to boycott this party because our best friends aren’t allowed in. Jenny, are you coming?’
Jenny is spinning the bottle.
‘Jenny?’ I ask.
She waits as it spins.
‘Jenny,’ says Charlie, ‘Paul’s waiting outside.’
The bottle lands on Jared Ream, who is the greasiest boy in the whole school. Jenny looks horrified. She stands up and says, ‘Yeah, this game is so immature. We’re leaving.’
We leave the room looking high and mighty. Which I hope disguises how completely gutted I am.
When we get outside Paul is there and he doesn’t look happy.
‘Why didn’t you answer my texts?’ he says to Jenny.
‘Did you send me a text, doll?’ she replies, all innocent. ‘My cell must have been out of batteries.’
I’m not buying that, and Paul’s not either. ‘Your phone has been out of batteries a lot recently,’ he says. ‘Every time I text you, you say it’s out of batteries. But when I call, it rings.’
Jenny looks like she’s just been outsmarted by Einstein.
‘Er, well.’ She tries a tactic that I must remember for whenever I get a boyfriend (no jokes, please!). She steps towards him, looks him in the eye, then pouts and looks really sad. ‘I missed you so much in that party, babe. I wished you were there, but Julie Innis was being such a hag. I thought if I could appeal to her better nature then she would let you in.’ Hang on, is that a tear in her eye? I don’t like the fact that she is lying to Paul, but there’s no denying she’s good at it. She continues, ‘It turns out that Julie Innis doesn’t have a better nature. So that’s when I said I wasn’t spinning the bottle any more, and I got Gwynnie and Charlie and told them that we had to leave. For you.’
Now that has really got me narked. She basically had to be dragged out of that party by me and Charlie and now she’s taking all the credit.
‘You were playing spin the bottle?!’ Paul is angry.
‘No,’ says Jenny.
Now, technically, that’s true. We were playing Postman’s Knock, which is slightly different because the kissing goes on behind closed doors, but that probably makes it worse.
Paul turns to me. ‘Is that what happened, Gwynnie?’
Paul used to be my best mate, but Jenny is my new best mate and I don’t want her to get in trouble. This is very tricky. Jenny is looking at me like nothing is wrong, like she’s a completely devoted girlfriend who made her friends leave the best party ever so that she could be with her boyfriend. She is so sincere that it makes me question my sanity.
‘I . . . er . . . I . . .’ Suddenly I’ve become about as coherent as my dad at the Mohans’ New Year’s Eve party. ‘Yeah,’ I say. What else can I do?
‘Really?’ Paul asks.
‘Why don’t you believe her?’ Jenny says, like she’s the one with a right to be mad. ‘That’s what she said, isn’t it?’
They’re looking at me again, but luckily Charlie comes to my rescue. ‘Look, guys, we don’t want to get involved. I’ll walk Gwynnie home and we’ll leave you two to it.’
Charlie Notts is my complete
hero. And he’s said he’ll walk me home, which is so nice of him because it is totally out of his way. We leave and Jenny is looking back at us like she wishes she was walking with us. Paul just looks angry. I can hear him saying, ‘I’m getting pretty sick of this. First you insist that I meet you at the party rather than at your house because it’s more romantic—’
‘Well, maybe if you were a bit more romantic I wouldn’t have to come up with ways to make you more romantic . . .’
Their argument drifts away like police sirens as me and Charlie head off. ‘I hope those two will be all right,’ I say. ‘They’re such a good couple.’ It’s only after I say it out loud that I realize it’s not true. Jenny and Paul have nothing in common and I don’t know how they have lasted this long. It’s probably something to do with Jenny’s big boobs and Paul’s ability to look like he’s listening when he’s not.
‘Couples always break up eventually,’ says Charlie.
I suppose he’s right. The likelihood is that Paul and Jenny won’t get married. It’s weird – I hated it when Paul and Jenny got together, but now that they might be breaking up it feels wrong.
However, right now I have a new problem and I’m panicking again. I am alone with Charlie. It’ll take about ten minutes for us to walk back to my house, and there is no way that I can be interesting for ten minutes. I can’t think of a thing to say.
I scan my mind. Why is it only filled with rubbish? There must be something good or funny or insightful I can come up with.
We get all the way to my house without either of us saying a word.
We stand outside my front door. ‘Do you know what I like about you, Gwynnie?’
That I’m an idiot? A nutbag? I have stupid skinny legs that make it look like I’m a walking pair of compasses?
‘You don’t feel the need to talk every second of every day. Some girls just talk and talk and talk and talk, and most of what they say is crap.’
Am I supposed to answer that, or would that make what he just said untrue? I say, ‘Thanks,’ and leave it at that.
‘Is this your house?’
For the first time ever I feel really embarrassed about my house. It’s a tiny terraced thing that is in desperate need of a coat of paint. The metre square of lawn in front hasn’t been mowed in like a million years and there’s a pile of junk that my dad is collecting to make some kind of sculpture. He calls it art trouvé. But there is nothing trouvé about it. Whatever trouvé means.
‘Would you believe me if I said that I was just looking after it for a friend?’
Charlie laughs. ‘Not really. There’s a sticker on the window that says, Spurs Supporter Lives Here, and I know that you and I are the only people in Northampton stupid enough to support Spurs.’
Suddenly I get a burst of courage and I have no idea where it came from. I lean towards him. I close my eyes and lean and lean and lean. My lips are out and puckered and they aim for him like an arrow in slow motion.
Why haven’t I got to his mouth yet? I open my eyes and Charlie’s looking at me like I’ve got a mental disorder. He’s bent back, almost at a ninety-degree angle.
His gorgeous face looks confused. ‘Are you OK?’ he asks. Charlie Notts is so caring.
‘I’m fine,’ I say. He’s not getting it. ‘I’m a bit cold.’ Perhaps he’ll put his arms around me to warm me up.
‘You can borrow my coat.’ He quickly takes off his coat and hands it to me. ‘Give it back on Monday . . . or whenever.’
I take his coat and put it on. Now I’m boiling and I’m sweating up the inside of Charlie’s coat. Yuck. And he hasn’t put his arm around me.
I have another idea. ‘I have an itch on my back. On my left shoulder blade. Will you scratch it for me, please?’
He waits for me to turn around, but I don’t, so he has to reach his arm around me and scratch my shoulder. He has his arm around me now and it’s the most romantic thing since the invention of candlelight. He’s leaning forward, and I know what that means. The BB Club told me. He opens his mouth and I know what that means too. I have to remember everything the girls taught me: close my eyes, allow his lips to go round my lips – or is it my lips around his? No pogoing, no washing machines . . . God, I hope I don’t get this wrong!
I go in and kiss him. Full on the lips.
‘Gwy—’ As our lips touch I muffle something that he was trying to say. Maybe he wasn’t trying to kiss me after all. But it doesn’t matter now. We’re actually snogging!
And it’s the best thing ever.
Chapter 20
I arrive late to the next day’s Prom Planning Committee meeting. This way I know all the girls will already be there when I walk in. I say, ‘Guess what!’ like it’s nothing and no big deal, but the fact that I have said Guess what, in this loud announcey-type way means that it obviously is a big deal.
They all kind of shrug like they are not that interested.
They will be.
‘I’m Charlie Notts girlfriend!!!’
Silence. Not the overjoyed whoops of non-jealous delight that I was hoping for. I stand there like a magician who’s just done a ta-da! But the rabbit is still in the hat and hasn’t disappeared at all.
‘What are you talking about, Gwynnie?’ asks Jenny.
‘Oh my God, it’s the best thing ever! Me and Charlie are a proper couple!’
‘What?’ Kimba doesn’t sound so sure. ‘Charlie Notts? And you?’
‘Yes.’ I don’t like the way she said that, like I’m a mental patient and she’s one of the doctors in the white coats. But I know that Charlie and me are together now. I am sure of it. A little bit.
‘He walked me home and totally snogged me and it was amazing!’
Still silence. Finally Melissa says, ‘Look, Gwynnie, I’m not being funny, but you’ve never snogged anyone before—’
‘Jenny!’ I squeal. ‘You said you wouldn’t tell.’
‘This is the BB Club, Gwynnie. Telling them is not telling.’
Somehow I’m not sure if that’s true, but it doesn’t matter any more so I let it slide.
Melissa continues. ‘Maybe you thought you snogged him but you didn’t.’
‘Of course I did! We were outside my door. And then he kissed me.’ Technically I kissed him, but what’s the difference? We kissed.
‘Did you use tongues or was it just a peck on the cheek?’ asks Jenny.
‘Definite tongues. First we staircased, then we pogoed for a—’
‘TMI, Gwynnie,’ interrupts Melissa with a hand raised.
‘Thanks very much,’ I reply.
‘That means too much information.’
‘Oh.’ I’m still learning. ‘Still,’ I continue, ‘we kissed for ages. Like about two minutes.’
‘That’s a shame,’ says Jenny. ‘Oh well, maybe he had to get home.’
‘Is that not very long?’ She’s instantly made me feel bad. ‘He did say that he had to go home.’
‘Ooooh.’ They all do this noise at the same time. The way they do it makes it sound like a bad thing.
I defend myself. ‘But you said that maybe he had to go home.’
‘Yeah, but if he said he had to go home it sounds like he was making excuses to go, rather than having to go. Do you see the difference?’
I totally do! Oh this is awful. Charlie Notts kissed me and then couldn’t get away fast enough. ‘Do you think I’ve blown it?’
Elizabeth goes all reassuring. ‘No, no. It doesn’t definitely mean that. So when did he ask you out?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘How did he say it? Was he like, Will you go out with me?’ Elizabeth looks all dreamy and smiley as if she’s imagining some romantic movie. ‘Or, Will you be my girlfriend? or, Can I be your boyfriend?’
‘He didn’t say any of those things.’
Elizabeth’s face falls a little but then she smiles at me again. The smile is not as strong as it was before.
‘But we kissed for ages so that must mean I’m
his girlfriend.’
‘Oh, Gwynnie,’ Kimba says, shaking her head, ‘you really don’t know anything, do you?’
I would shout at her that she’s the one who doesn’t know anything, but when I look around they are all shaking their heads in the same way.
Jenny says, ‘You’re not going out with a boy until he asks you out formally or refers to you as his girlfriend.’
‘But—’
‘No buts, sweetie. Those are the rules. Or else how do you know if it was just a snog for the sake of a snog, or you are proper boyfriend and girlfriend?’
I think back to what happened and wonder how I could be so stupid. He tried to snog me in the cupboard but that’s because it was Postman’s Knock. I was the one who snogged him outside my house. He played along with it for the shortest time possible, out of pity. Then he said he had to go home. Obviously to get out of it.
‘Oh, sweetie, don’t be upset.’ Jenny is so nice sometimes. ‘At least you got your first snog.’
‘I suppose.’ Jenny’s right. At least someone found me not too hideous to give me a pity snog. But this is not how I thought today would go. When I woke up this morning I thought I had a boyfriend, and that he was the most gorgeous boy in the whole school. But an hour later, it turns out that I’m a delusional nutbag. I tell the BB girls that I’ve just remembered I have to leave.
‘But we’re planning prom!’ says Elizabeth. ‘We’re on to decorations, and how we’re going to have our hair.’
‘Balloons, streamers and a disco mirror ball,’ I say. This is from a movie that my mum used to like.
They all make impressed Ahhh noises about the mirror ball.
‘And I was hoping that I could borrow your ghd’s, Jenny, so that I could have my hair super-straight.’
‘Sorry, Gwynnie. I can’t lend out my ghd’s to bronze members.’
‘What? Why?’
‘It’s part of the bronze membership deal; ghd’s count as a privilege.’
I’m not sure if this is fair. ‘Are you doing everyone else’s hair?’