Don't Even Think About It
Page 12
But this is different, and I don’t think she’s making it up. I just can’t imagine who it could be though. The only boys we both know are Chris and Bumble – unless it’s someone Ruth knows and I don’t. But how could someone I don’t even know fancy me? It doesn’t make sense.
It’s kind of nice though, to think that someone thinks you’re cool.
I’m still working on the birthday kitten idea with Dad. He won’t give me a definite yes, but that’s probably because he’s going to surprise me. I can read him like a book sometimes.
I really hope he gets a mostly white one, although of course I’ll take any kitten he gives me. As Granny Daly would say, BEGGARS CAN’T BE CHOOSERS.
Oh and guess what? Dad was right – it was Bumble who phoned the other night. He rang again last evening, and would you believe he actually meant it about us meeting up after all? We settled on next Thursday – I kind of want to get the whole breaking up with Chris thing over with first.
I am NOT looking forward to that. Better ring Chris now and arrange to meet him in town. God, I hope he hasn’t got me a birthday present yet – hope he didn’t pick up on the hints I was dropping about White Musk.
Evening, Monday, 18th April.
Well, I did it. It was awful, just awful.
I met him at our usual corner, and we went to Nosh and ordered Cokes, and he started telling me about his little sister’s birthday party the day before, and right in the middle of the bit when his sister’s best friend got sick into the bowl of trifle, I butted in, because I couldn’t bear it any longer, and I said, ‘Chris, I have something to say.’
And he just sat there, while I stuttered and stammered and told him it was me, not him, and how sorry I was, and his face went red and his eyes filled with tears, and I felt like a total monster.
And when I ran out of words, we just sat there for a bit, and I kept my eyes on the paper tablecloth, where Chris had been doodling stars while he was telling me about the birthday party. Then he kind of pulled himself together and stood up and said he had to go.
I could see he was really struggling not to cry in front of me, so I just nodded and let him walk out, and I stayed sitting there for about twenty minutes, to give him plenty of time to get away.
Breaking up sure stinks. I hope I never have to do it again. I think I’d rather if someone broke up with me, even if it made me really sad. It couldn’t be worse than feeling the way I do now.
Anyway, I wanted to talk to someone after that, so I called into Ruth on the way home, and she told me that I’d done the right thing, and that of course I wasn’t a monster, which was just what I needed to hear.
Imagine I thought she was horrible once. Just shows how wrong you can be.
She still refuses to tell me who fancies me – not that I want to get involved with anyone else right now. I think I’ve had enough of boys for a while.
Wouldn’t mind knowing who it was though.
Very early in the morning, Saturday, 23rd April.
Happy Birthday to me.
Hurrah that it’s a Saturday, so there’s no school. There’s also no sign of a kitten – I’ve just been downstairs to check – so Dad must be planning to take me to the Cats’ Home later to let me choose one for myself, which I was secretly hoping he’d do. He’s still in bed, which isn’t surprising, considering it’s only half past six in the morning.
So while I’m waiting for him to get up, I may as well tell you about meeting Bumble on Thursday.
You know what? It was as if we’d never been apart.
Of course he was late, like he always was, and I tried to look cross when he walked in, like I always used to do, and he managed to smile and look guilty at the same time, and I hadn’t the heart to give out to him.
Just like it always was.
I don’t know who talked more, him or me. I know we ordered two lots of Coke, and then we got chips, because suddenly it was lunchtime. He told me I looked more grown-up, which is a good thing to hear when you’re almost fourteen, and I told him he needed a haircut, which he did.
And somewhere in between the first and second Coke, Bumble started talking about Catherine Eggleston.
He told me that going out with her had been a big mistake – that he’d never been interested in her, not really. He said he just laughed when Trudy Higgins told him that Catherine fancied him. He really didn’t believe her, until Catherine herself asked him out, less than a week after she finished with Terry McNamara. She asked him out – imagine.
And because she was beautiful, and because it was nice to think that someone like her was interested in him, Bumble said yes. I suppose most boys would say yes to Catherine Eggleston.
And for a while he enjoyed being with her. He liked seeing other boys looking at her when they were out together, and she could even be quite good fun sometimes. But in the end, it wasn’t enough – he just wasn’t interested, so he finished with her.
And then I told him about Chris, and how awful it had been finishing with him, and we agreed that breaking up really sucked.
It was just lovely to be with Bumble again. I told him all about Ruth, and about Mam turning up out of the blue after Christmas. He and Mam always got on – I think Mam secretly thought of Bumble as my future husband. You know what mams are like.
Anyway, just before we said goodbye he gave me a little padded envelope and told me not to open it until my birthday, and it’s here in front of me now, and I think it’s about time I found out what’s in it.
A quarter past seven
It’s a bottle of White Musk, with a card that says, ‘Just make sure you don’t wear it when you’re meeting me.’ He’s so romantic.
Right, I can’t bear the kitten suspense any longer. Time to go downstairs and make lots of noise in the kitchen.
A quarter to eight
OK, I’ve had three sausages and two rashers, and there’s still no sign of Dad. Is he ever getting up?
Hang on, someone’s at the front door.
Nine o’clock
Molly is the cutest kitten you ever saw.
She’s like a ball of fur, white with orange paws and ears, and she’s got the tiniest little mew, and her tongue feels like the dark grey end of a rubber, the end that rubs out ink, and her tail is short and fat and fluffy, and the little pink pads under her paws are just adorable.
She’s already eaten half a tin of sardines and two saucers of kitten milk, and she’s got a milk moustache. She sneezed a minute ago, and she nearly fell over.
I want to eat her up, she’s so gorgeous.
You know where I found her? Sitting on the doormat in a Tayto box with a red ribbon around it and holes punched in the sides. Dad sneaked downstairs with her when I was having breakfast and put her on the mat and rang the bell and hid around the corner until I came out and found her.
He kept her in his room last night.
Did you get that? My Dad, who really doesn’t like cats, spent the whole night with a mewing little kitten in his room, just so she’d be a surprise for me on my birthday. Is he the best dad in the world or what?
Hang on, the post has just come, and there’s an envelope from Mam. Hopefully containing a few dollars.
Ten past nine
You won’t believe it. It’s a return ticket to San Francisco. I’m flying out on the tenth of July and coming back on the sixth of August.
Almost a whole month with her. I’m so happy I could cry.
Ten to seven in the evening
Ruth loves Molly. She didn’t say one insulting thing about her, not that I’d care. Not after she gave me a year’s subscription to Mizz, which she said I was getting on condition that I passed them all on to her. I told her I’d think about it.
Chloe loves Molly too. She gave me The Monster Cookie Book for my birthday. It’s the size of an encyclopaedia, and it must have about two hundred cookie recipes in it.
She and Ruth almost fought over who’d hold Molly and naturally Ruth won. They’re both gone ho
me now, and I’m just about to start getting ready to go out to dinner with Dad. I decided that’s what I wanted to do most of all this evening.
Hang on – the doorbell’s just rung, and Dad’s in the shower, so I’d better answer it.
Half past seven
Dad has just knocked on my door and said if we don’t get moving, they’ll give our table away. I told him I’d be out in a sec.
You’ll never guess who was at the front door.
He was holding out a little bag, and he looked a bit shy. He said, ‘I just wanted to wish you happy birthday.’
I took the bag and opened it, and inside was a little sparkly red collar that looked as if it would fit perfectly around Molly’s neck. And when I looked back up at him, something happened.
My stomach flipped, in a really nice kind of way.
And suddenly I felt shy myself, and all I could do was smile and say, ‘Thank you, it’s lovely.’
And then he said, ‘Maybe we could go out some time.’
And I said, ‘I’d like that.’ And I watched him turn around and walk back next door.
I wonder what it’ll be like, kissing Damien Wallace.
As Granny Daly would say, YOU JUST NEVER KNOW
WHAT’S WAITING AROUND THE CORNER.
We hope you enjoyed meeting Liz.
Now meet Tia and Tammy in Blue Lavender Girl
and Copper Girl from Judy May.
From Blue Lavender Girl by Judy May
I’m glad I didn’t waste brain cells thinking of anything else to do for the summer, because I just found out that I’m going to Aunt Maisie’s anyway. She always comes here so I’ve never seen her place. Mum tells me it’s a large cottage in its own grounds, but if she thinks that will change me into one of those Pride and Prejudice girls she’s very much mistaken. I’m sort of relieved though, because I hate everyone right now, but I won’t let them know that.
I need to use every minute I have to make it so they won’t go into my room while I’m away. That way they can’t pull another stunt like the salmon-coloured flowered wallpaper that appeared when I was off on the weekend school trip to that farm. I am going to push all the mess near the door so it’s impossible to get through.
I put all my favourite clothes into a big suitcase and then took them all out again deciding to wash everything first in case she doesn’t have a washing machine. I know she will, I just … God, I don’t know.
I went around to meet Kira and Dee at the burger place, but they sounded worse than my mother. They kept saying that I’d have a good time and they wish they were going and that I might find a boyfriend there.
I didn’t even get to say goodbye properly because Dee’s brother’s friends arrived in, and this needed the girls’ full attention.
***
I looked up at the sky and wondered what’s happened to the stars these days. There are never any when I think to look up. When I was really little and we spent time in Dad’s uncle’s place by the beach, there were loads of stars. We used to all lie on the beach and Dad would teach us the names of the stars and Mum would get them all muddled up and not on purpose. It was such a laugh, but I haven’t explained it very well. It was one of those ‘you-had-to-have-been-there’ things.
I nearly forgot to pack this diary, good thing it was on top of my jeans with the beads otherwise I would have left it behind. It’s weird that I have written more in this than in English class for the last year.
***
I am in bed early.
PRETEND REASON: To get enough sleep to be up bright and early to get to the train in time.
REAL REASON: I am so angry with my parents that I keep wanting to bite someone’s head off whenever either of them says anything, and I don’t want to fall out with them just before I go or they might never let me come home.
From Copper Girl by Judy May
10 June (end of first week of holidays)
Another day minding Mikey and restocking shelves in the shop. Thrillsville. Now that I have a diary I have to do something big or my head will fall off. I solemnly swear that by the end of the summer I will have:
1. Met a rock star or a film star and had a proper conversation with them.
2. Started going out with one of the Rat Pack guys, preferably Johnny Saunders.
3. Got myself on television doing something non-embarrassing.
4. ANYTHING that no one I know has ever done, just to stick it to Adie O’Boyle and her lot.
Once I do that Johnny will really notice me and I’ll finally get to go out with him, or even maybe one of the other Rat Pack guys if I decide I’m too big for him. The look on Johnny’s face if he asked me out and I turned him down, that would be priceless! Then I will send Hellie and Charlie a really casual e-mail and tell them all about it like as if it’s nothing. Yeah, I wish.
Pete laughs at the Rat Pack guys (Hellie came up with the name from some old musicians her Dad likes) – he calls them snobs and says they aren’t worthy to lick his boots, so I remind him he only ever wears sneakers. I think he’s just jealous of Johnny and his friends because they are all from rich families and are impossibly good-looking and go to a better school than him. It’s a pity because if he was friends with them I’d find it easier to get to know them and wouldn’t only say three sentences to Johnny on the odd Friday night at the Club. I was thinking of telling Pete about how much I want to go out with Johnny, but I know he’d just make my life hell about it. Sometimes he acts like my big brother, which is mostly OK.
Right, I am now going to dress in something cool and get into town before 3pm and make something happen. I will get inspired and make a plan or maybe even meet someone and have a life-changing conversation.
LATER
I didn’t get into town until five because Mum made me tidy my room first. So it’s entirely her fault that all the interesting people on the planet had gone home by then.
About the Author
Born in Kerry, Roisin Meaney is a primary school teacher living in Limerick. She is a published author of adult fiction: The Daisy Picker (Tivoli, 2004) and Putting Out the Stars (Tivoli, 2005). Don’t Even Think About It is her first novel for children.
Copyright
This eBook edition first published 2012 by The O’Brien Press Ltd,
12 Terenure Road East, Rathgar, Dublin 6, Ireland
Tel: +353 1 4923333; Fax: +353 1 4922777
E-mail: books@obrien.ie
Website: www.obrien.ie
First published 2006
eBook ISBN: 978-1-84717-392-8
Copyright for text ' Roisin Meaney 2006
Copyright for typesetting, editing, layout design ' The O Brien Press
UNAUTHORISED COPYING IS ILLEGAL
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or utilised in any form or my any means, including electronic, digital, mechanical, visual or audio, or mounted on any network servers, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Carrying out any unauthorised act in relation to a copyright work may result in both a civil claim for damages and criminal prosecution. For permission to copy any part of this publication contact The O’Brien Press Ltd at books@obrien.ie.
British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
Meaney, Roisin
Don t even think about it
1. Diary fiction 2. Children s stories
I. Title
823.9 2[J]
The O Brien Press receives assistance from
Editing, typesetting and design: The O Brien Press Ltd
Other books in the Journals series from The O’Brien Press
Blue Lavender Girl by Judy May
ISBN 0–86278–991–5
978–0–86278–991–6
Copper Girl by Judy May
ISBN 0–86278–990–7
978–0–86278–990–9