She was so delighted with her purchase that I didn’t have the heart to hurt her feelings.
‘There aren’t words,’ I said truthfully.
‘I knew you’d love it. You can wear it to your new friend’s house, can’t you? Try it on, try it on.’
I smiled weakly as I desperately searched for something to say. Hmm? How do I get out of this one?
Ten minutes later, I was in the kitchen wearing the dress and still wondering, literally, how to get out of this. Course, that had to be the very moment Scott banged on the back door.
‘Evenin’ all,’ he said, letting himself in and stroking Mojo, who jumped up in greeting. Then he saw me. ‘Yuk. You going to a fancy dress?’
‘Shhh,’ I said. ‘Mum’s upstairs. She bought it for me.’
‘What, to wear?’
‘No. To scare off burglars. Yes, to wear.’
Scott pulled a face. ‘You look weird. Like you’re in “The Waltons”.’
‘Thanks a bunch. So how do I get out of it?’
Scott went round to my back, put his hands on my waist and nuzzled into my neck. ‘Now that’s one thing I’m good at, helping girls out of their dresses.’ He started to stroke my hair then play with my zip. ‘Now, Miss Watts,’ he whispered. ‘I really don’t think this is your style. Let me help you out of it and into something . . . more . . . comfortable.’
I giggled and slapped him, hoping he didn’t see me blushing. Him nibbling my neck made me feel all fluttery inside. Nice.
‘Uhyuh yunnawee,’ I started to say, then took a deep breath and made myself remember this was Scott for heaven’s sake. ‘Seriously though,’ I said, turning so he couldn’t see my red face. ‘I’m going to a sleepover tonight at a new mate’s house and I can’t possibly wear this. She’ll think it’s so naff.’
‘What new mate?’
‘Oh,’ I suddenly remembered he fancied Nesta. ‘Er . . . Nesta Williams new mate.’
‘You’re kidding. Nesta? Why didn’t you tell me? When did this all happen? I thought you said she was an airhead.’
‘Well, I was wrong. She’s actually very nice.’
Scott punched the air. ‘Yes. Will you promise, promise, promise to put a word in for me? Or even better, you could bring her here and I could kind of casually drop in and you could introduce us?’
I could I suppose, I thought, watching Scott as he went into the hall and checked himself in the mirror. I just wish that a boy would feel that enthusiastic about me one day. And even more to my surprise, I found myself thinking, I wish Scott would feel that enthusiastic about me.
By the time I was due to go, I had a plan.
I went down into the kitchen wearing my usual tracksuit and trainers to find Mum chopping peppers and onions on the counter.
‘I can’t wear the dress tonight, Mum. I’m going via Lucy’s house and they’ve got two huge dogs. Labradors. Very hairy. Always moulting. The kind of dogs who jump up on you. With enormous claws and muddy paws and they like to chew everything. They’d ruin my dress. Do you mind if I put it away for a special occasion?’ (Special occasion like Bonfire Night and I put it on a guy to be burnt, I thought.)
‘Sure,’ said Mum. ‘And are you sure you like it?’
Was she giving me a get out? I was about to open my mouth and say nooooo, I hate it . . .
‘Because they had it in pink,’ she said.
Ag. Agh. Agherama.
Later, I thought, as I made for the door. I will sort this later.
‘Got your jimjams?’ asked Nesta, closing the front door behind us. She looked fab in a lilac cami set with the words Groovy Chick across the top.
I nodded as she led me through into a living-room with high ceilings, deep-red walls and plush brown velvet sofas. Impressive, I thought, as I took in the mix of dark wood and Turkish and Moroccan-looking rugs.
Izzie and Lucy were already there, curled up for our telly night and both gave me a wave. Izzie was wearing red flannel pyjamas with fluffy sheep on and Lucy had blue ones with stars and moons all over. I waved back and hoped that they couldn’t see how nervous I was feeling. Nesta’s flat was so glam, I hoped they wouldn’t think my house was mega-dull when they came to visit me.
‘You can change in there,’ said Nesta, showing me a cloakroom off the hall. ‘No one’s here. Tony’s staying over at a mate’s and Mum and Dad have gone out to eat. Mum said we can order pizza. What’s your fave?’
‘Four cheeses. Please,’ I said, as I closed the cloakroom door behind me.
‘Coming up,’ called Nesta. ‘Quattro formaggi.’
My pyjamas looked so boring as I got them out of my bag. A pale grey vestie thing for the top and bottoms to match. Ah well. What you see is what you get, I thought, as I pulled them on, then went back into the living-room and pulled a cushion on to the floor.
‘Let the viewing commence,’ said Izzie, passing me the Pringles.
After we’d finished watching ‘South Park’ and munching our way through crisps, pizza, chocolate and ice cream, the real fun began. Nesta put on a DVD of mad Irish dancing. After we’d danced our socks off for fifteen minutes, we all collapsed on the sofa and they talked about everything – music, clothes, mags, school gossip, horoscopes and, finally, boys.
As they chatted, we painted each other’s toenails. I did Nesta’s dark purple and then she did mine the same colour. Izzie did Lucy’s pale blue and she did Iz’s red. None of them seemed to mind that I didn’t say a lot. I was happy to sit back and take it all in.
Nesta was a hoot and seemed to be very experienced with boys. She’s had loads of boyfriends. At least eight. Maybe more, I lost count. And she seems to be an expert on snogging.
Izzie is just fab. She’s into loads of interesting stuff, not just horoscopes but alternative health, food, nutrition, aromatherapy, crystals and witchcraft. And she’s also in a band with her boyfriend. His name’s Ben and the band’s called King Noz. She sang a song for us that she’d written herself. She has the most amazing voice.
And Lucy. Lucy’s sweet. And kind. She kept checking on me to see I had enough to drink and eat. And was I comfortable. Did I need another cushion?
They all made me feel so welcome I suppose it was inevitable that, in the end, they’d turn the spotlight on me.
‘So TJ, is there anyone you fancy?’
I shook my head. ‘Not really.’
‘So why’ve you gone red?’ asked Nesta.
‘Nesta!’ said Lucy.
‘What? What?’
‘Let her tell in her own time,’ said Izzie.
I decided to plunge in. They’d all been so open with me, I felt I should be the same with them.
‘Well, I suppose there is one boy,’ I said. ‘I’ve known him all my life, but he treats me more like one of the lads than a girl.’
‘Does he know you fancy him?’ asked Lucy.
‘Noooo. In fact,’ I said, looking at Nesta, ‘he fancies you.’
‘Me?’
‘Yeah, he’s seen you at the Hollywood Bowl and asked if I’d put a word in.’
Nesta looked surprised. ‘What’s his name?’
‘Scott Harris.’
‘Don’t know him,’ said Nesta. ‘And anyway, I have a boyfriend.’
‘Posh boy,’ teased Lucy.
‘Simon Peddington Lee,’ said Izzie in a voice like the Queen’s.
‘He’s away at school at the mo,’ said Nesta, ‘but we speak or text most days. He’ll be back soon for the summer hols. And, anyway, I don’t steal other girl’s boyfriends.’
‘He’s not my boyfriend.’
‘Not yet,’ said Nesta. ‘Anyway, you saw him first so in my book that means he’s yours whether he knows it or not.’
‘Maybe you should let him know you like him,’ said Iz.
‘Noooo. Can’t. No. You don’t understand. That would ruin everything. See, he’s one of the few boys I can talk to. I have known him so long I don’t get all tongue-tied like I do around boys I fancy.’
<
br /> ‘You got on with my brothers OK,’ said Lucy.
‘Yeah. But that was different.’
‘Ah, you don’t fancy Steve. Is that it?’
‘No. Yes. I don’t know. I didn’t think about it. It felt so natural round your house, I kind of forgot he was a boy. And, well . . . it’s just, we got off on the right foot. I won at arm-wrestling and we were away.’
‘Got off on the right arm then,’ grinned Lucy. ‘Not foot.’
I decided to tell them everything. ‘See, I can karate-chop a boy to the floor and stand on his neck easy peasy, but the thought of having to kiss one and I’m terrified.’
‘Ah . . .’ said Lucy. ‘I get it.’
‘You have to be like Buffy,’ said Izzie. ‘Like, one minute she’s snogging Angel, the next, she’s out vaporising vampires. It’s a question of balance.’
‘Right,’ I said, feeling more confused than ever.
I could see Nesta was bursting to say something.
‘What?’ I said.
‘Nothing,’ she said, but she was holding her stomach as though keeping something in.
‘Spill. I can take it.’
‘No. Nothing. Well. What if . . .? No . . . nothing . . .’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Nesta. Spit it out,’ said Izzie.
‘Well,’ said Nesta. ‘How about you don’t tell Scott you fancy him? How about we get him to fancy you?’
‘Ah,’ I said. ‘And how do you propose to do that?’
I knew exactly what she had in mind, but felt like teasing her.
‘Er, . . .’ she looked anxiously at Lucy. ‘Dunno really.’
I decided to help her out. ‘You still want to do a make-over, don’t you?’
‘Er, no,’ she said with a quick glance at Lucy.
‘You think I look like a bag lady, don’t you?’
‘NO. I never said that!’ Now Nesta looked really worried. Lucy may be small in height but she’s clearly big in Nesta’s books. ‘No. No. I think you look fab. Oh, all right . . . I think you could look fabber. With a make-over. That’s all. And now you’re going to hate me. And think I’m mean because I want to help. And Lucy’s going to go on about my big gob. And how I never know when to stop . . .’
I laughed. ‘I’m only teasing you. No, please, do it. To tell the truth, I took a look at myself in the mirror this evening in the dress from hell that my mum bought me and I thought, TJ, you need help. I’d love it if you gave me a make-over. I’ll use it in the magazine. And . . . anyone got a pen? I’ve had an idea for a feature for the mag. A Sleepover Special Report.’
Nesta handed me a pen and paper from the drawer in the desk behind the sofa. Then she took my face in her hands and turned it to profile and back. Then she clapped her hands and went into drama luvvie persona, ‘A mi-vake over. Oh, daaahlling, ve’re going to mi-vake you look faaaabulouse.’
D’oh, I thought. What’ve I let myself in for?
Sleepover Special Report
Ever wondered what makes the perfect sleepover? For Real asked four teenagers for their top tips and fave ingredients. Here’s what they came up with.
Five main ingredients
1) Nosh for the munchies
2) Drinks
3) DVDs
4) Music
5) Make-up for make-overs
6) Mags
Special Spot Report
Izzie Foster. 14. Aquarius. Finchley. London
Fave thing to do at sleepovers? Goss. Listen to music. Nosh.
Fave music for sleepover? Anastacia. Christina Aguilera.
Fave DVD? Austin Powers 2. Yeah baby yeah.
Top nosh? Choc-chip cookies. Doritos.
Top drink? Organic elderflower juice.
Nesta Williams. 14. Leo. Highgate. London
Fave thing to do at sleepovers? Dance. Read problem page in mags and have a good laugh. Make-overs.
Fave music for sleepover? The latest love ballads compilation.
Fave DVD? Charlie’s Angels or Scream.
Top nosh? Nettuno pizza with extra cheese. Häagen Dazs.
Top drink? Coke.
Lucy Lovering. 14. Gemini. Muswell Hill. London
Fave thing to do at sleepovers? Talk about snogging and boys.
Fave music for sleepover? Robbieeee.
Fave DVD? Titanic. I’m King of the Wooooorld.
Top nosh? Chinese take-away. Yum. Pecan nut Häagen Dazs.
Top drink? Hot chocolate made with milk and marshmallows.
TJ Watts. 14. Sagittarius. Muswell Hill. London
Fave thing to do at sleepovers? Chill. Laugh my head off.
Fave music for sleepover? The Best Summer Ever CD.
Fave DVD? South Park Christmas Special starring Mr Hankey the Christmas Poo.
Top nosh? Burger and chips. Toffee popcorn.
Top drink? Banana milkshake with vanilla ice cream on top.
Chapter 9
‘So The Plan is,’ said Nesta, through a mouthful of toast, ‘we all go to TJ’s and sift through her wardrobe.’
It was Saturday morning and we were still in our jimjams, sitting round in the kitchen, eating toast and drinking milky coffees.
I wondered if I could get out of The Plan. Not that I was bothered about the make-over any more, no, I was worried what the girls were going to make of the Wrinklies. Izzie, Lucy and Nesta’s parents were normal ages. And Nesta’s are so glamorous. I met them this morning while I was waiting for the bathroom. Her mum’s a newsreader on cable television and her dad’s a film director and both très good looking and stylish as far as grown-ups go.
Mainly though, I was worried what the Wrinklies might make of the girls. Dad in particular. He can turn into Scary Dad at the slightest bit of noise or disturbance. Our house was never one to throw its doors open and welcome in the neighbourhood. I always used go to Hannah’s house rather than the other way round. Dad likes his privacy, the fewer people he sees when he’s not working, the better. Radio 4 and peace and quiet and he’s happy. Last thing I wanted was him showing me up in front of new friends by asking them pointed questions like, ‘What time’s your bus home?’
I thought I’d better warn the girls.
‘OK, er, about my parents, well my dad . . .’ I said and explained the situation.
‘Same at our house,’ said Izzie. ‘My mum doesn’t exactly encourage me to bring my mates back. Some parents are like that. It’s easy to hang at Lucy’s or here where no one’s running round cleaning up after you all the time.’
‘So, no problemo, TJ,’ said Nesta. ‘We will be the perfect example of quiet refined teenagers.’
‘Well behaved and demure,’ said Izzie.
‘And very mature,’ said Lucy.
I breathed a sigh of relief. I could trust them to be cool. At that moment, the back door opened and Leonardo DiCaprio’s younger Italian brother walked in. I mean, this boy was seriously handsome.
‘TJ, Tony. Tony, TJ. My brother,’ said Nesta as if I hadn’t realised.
‘Hi, TJ,’ said The Vision.
‘Hi, Tony,’ said a friendly voice inside my head. However, what came out of my mouth was, ‘uhyuh’. Oh, noooo, I thought. Alien Girl from the Planet Zog is back to haunt me.
Tony looked at the croissant I was about to eat, then looked right into my eyes and did a half-smile that made him look even more gorgeous. ‘So, TJ, what do virgins eat for breakfast?’
‘Dunno,’ I replied, breaking his gaze and staring at the floor.
‘Thought so,’ he said and laughed.
‘Take no notice of Tony, he’s a dingbat,’ said Nesta. ‘So. Aren’t you going to ask?’
‘Ask what?’
‘How come Tony is my brother?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’ asked Nesta. ‘Everyone asks. He’s light-skinned, I’m dark-skinned, how come?’
‘Obvious,’ I said. ‘Same father, different mothers.’
‘Hmmm,’ said Nesta. ‘Smart cookie.’
‘Not really,’
the voice in my head said. ‘I met your mum and dad this morning. I know she’s Jamaican and your dad looks Italian. Tony looks like your dad so I reckon he must have had a different mother. Elementary, my dear Williams.’ However, Noola the Alien Girl is a person of few words and all that came out was, ‘uh’. Smart cookie indeed. Why did this always happen when boys I fancied were around?
‘My real mum died before I knew her. I was six months old,’ explained Tony, coming over and laying his head on my shoulder. ‘Really, I’m an orphan. An orphan prince who needs love and affection.’
‘Uhyuh,’ I stuttered, hoping that by some strange quirk of fate, Tony might be fluent in Zoganese.
I could see Lucy giving me a strange look then giving Tony a filthy look. Hmm? Something going on there, methinks. Must ask later.
Tony went over to the fridge and opened the door. ‘What’s to eat?’ He got out a half-eaten apple pie, put it on the breakfast bar and cut himself a huge slice.
‘Apple pie for breakfast?’ said Iz. ‘Ew. Gross.’
He turned and grinned at her. ‘Would you prefer I did something else with it?’
‘Like what?’ said Iz.
‘You seen that film American Pie?’
‘Yeah,’ said Izzie, then pulled a face. ‘Eew, double gross.’
‘What are you on about?’ I asked.
Nesta looked at Tony wearily and sighed. ‘Sorry about my disgusting brother, TJ. In American Pie, a boy asks what it’s like to have sex. His mate says it’s like putting your thingee in a warm apple pie.’
I blushed furiously as Tony watched me closely to see my reaction.
‘Apparently, some guy in Australia tried it,’ said Lucy, getting down from her stool at the breakfast bar and refilling the kettle. ‘Steve read about it in the paper. This guy didn’t wait for the pie to cool when it came out of the oven. He was taken to the local hospital and treated for burns.’
‘Aggghhh,’ said Tony, putting his hands over his crotch as the rest of us cracked up laughing. ‘I wonder how he explained that to the nurse on duty.’
Mates, Dates and Sleepover Secrets Page 6