My Dating Disasters Diary

by Liz Rettig

  ‘How did it go? Did you snog him ag—?’

  ‘I’m being held hostage, Kelly Ann,’ Liz screamed. ‘I need thirty-six pounds or they won’t let me go.’

  ‘Peter’s holding you hostage?’ I asked, totally gobsmacked. Maybe Liz’s parents were right and he was a really bad person. But then I couldn’t see Liz putting up with this.

  ‘No, you idiot. The restaurant staff.’ Liz was nearly sobbing with frustration and fury now. ‘Tosser only paid half the bill and I didn’t have any money so he just left me here.’

  Oh God, thirty-six pounds. How did Liz manage to eat that much? Stupid question. Especially if she thought Peter would pay.

  ‘I can’t ask Mum or Dad,’ Liz wailed. ‘They don’t know I’m here and they’d go mental if they did.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Liz. I’ll be right there with the money. No problem.’

  I put down the phone. Bloody hell. Why had I said that? I suppose I just wanted to sound reassuring but where would I get thirty-six pounds? I checked my purse and turned out my pockets. Four pounds and seventyfive pence. So, just thirty-one pounds and twenty-five pence to go. Feverishly I checked down all the cushions and under the bed. Another three pounds twenty-two pence. Also ten euros and twenty-nine cents. Just a pity Britain hadn’t joined yet.

  So, just another … well, a lot to go. Wish I’d paid more attention at mental arithmetic. Also I’d have to subtract my bus fare into town. Bollocks. I’d have to call Liz’s parents after all. Or my own. Oh God. Wish I’d someone else I could ask for lots of money.

  But I had. Chris. A good pair of football boots would cost over thirty pounds easily. Yeah, that was it. I’d ask Chris. He would be sure to help. Only thing was, Liz had sworn me to secrecy about her date with Peter, and anyway I knew she wouldn’t want anyone to know how he’d humiliated her. Not even Chris.

  I picked up the phone and dialled. ‘Chris, don’t ask why, I can’t tell you, but I need money right now … about, um, thirty pounds – well, maybe just a bit less, I haven’t worked it out yet. Can you come over right away with it please? It’s a matter of life and death – well, not quite, but very, very important, though I can’t tell you why as I’m sworn to secrecy. All I can say is I desperately—’

  Chris said, ‘OK.’

  ‘OK?’ I said, relieved.

  ‘I’ll be over right away.’

  Oh God, how I love Chris at times like this. He’s just the best friend a person could ever have.

  In ten minutes Chris was over and had handed me the thirty pounds. He didn’t ask me any questions as I knew he wouldn’t (sometimes it’s so nice having an un-nosy friend) but looked worried. I shooed him away with a quick ‘Thanks, Chris. Sorry about the football boots. I’ll get this back to you soon as. Trust me.’

  As soon as he was out of sight I checked my watch. Ten fifteen. Should be able to make it there and back before eleven if I hurried. I grabbed my coat and ran for the bus into town.

  When I got to the restaurant, I found Liz in the hall by the kitchen, being guarded by a snooty waitress and a scary-looking guy with tattoos on his arms, which were folded over his chest and resting on his beer gut. After I’d paid the bill they released her.

  On the way back to my house Liz fumed about Peter the whole time. Apparently, not sure what to order at first, she had looked at the menu and said, ‘Oh, Peter, everything seems so expensive.’

  He’d smiled and said, ‘Hey, special occasion. Our first meal out together. Go mental.’

  So she’d ordered everything and had had a great time until the bill-paying stage when Peter had made it clear he was expecting Liz to pay for her share, put £30 on the dish (£3 less than his own bill when the service charge was added) and buggered off, leaving Liz with the rest.

  Once Liz and I got back home I called Chris and assured him I’d repay his loan soon (Liz had told me it would take three weeks of her allowance to pay him off). He said not to worry, and whenever, although I know he really needs new boots as his old ones are totally done.

  Eventually I went off to sleep thinking about Liz and her horrible date. Have come to the conclusion all guys are totally selfish, mean and useless. Maybe it’s as well I don’t have a boyfriend after all. Not that anyone seems to want me.

  THURSDAY APRIL 1ST

  April fool’s day. This time I am not going to get caught out like all the other times. So if anyone tells me that there are pink daffodils in the park, chocolate-flavoured chicken nuggets on the school dinner menu or that eating twelve melons a day makes your boobs grow (I can’t stand melons now), then I will so not believe them.

  It’s only ten o’clock and already I’ve been told that hidden CCTV cameras have been installed in the cubicles of the girls’ toilets, that the government has increased the school leaving age to twenty-five, and that in an effort to improve the school ethos all pupils will have to curtsey or bow to teachers if we meet them in the corridors. Yeah, right. Like I’m really stupid enough to believe any of it.

  Mr Smith has just come on the tannoy to tell us that the rumour school is closing today at eleven a.m. is not true and anyone found truanting will be severely dealt with. Since corporal punishment is now allowed in all state schools at the discretion of the head teacher, this is likely to be a very painful experience.

  Passed Michael as I was on my way to the shops with Liz to buy some chocolate. As usual he was surrounded by nice-looking fourth-year girls, who were all trying to pull him, judging by their constant superglue-fixed smiles and tilted heads. He spotted me so I waved a quick ‘Hi’ to him and hurried on as the queue would be building up. But to my surprise he broke free from his group of admirers and caught up with me.

  ‘Hi, Kelly Ann. Look, could I have a quick word with you?’

  ‘Sorry, Mike, not now – I’m in a bit of a hurry. Chocolate starvation has set in and you know what the queues are like.’

  However, he turned to Liz and gave her a dazzling smile. ‘Maybe you could go ahead and keep Kelly Ann’s place for her. Or’ – he took some change from his pocket and handed it to her – ‘if we don’t make it by the time you’re served, just buy her a Cadbury’s Creme Egg.’ He turned to me. ‘That’s what you usually like, isn’t it?’

  I nodded, puzzled. Liz took the money, then, giving me a look that said she’d expect me to fill her in later on what Mike was up to, every single detail, she ran on ahead.

  I said, ‘How do you know I like Cadbury’s Creme Eggs?’

  ‘You told me one time. Don’t you remember?’

  I shook my head, then shrugged. ‘No, not really, but anyway, what did you want to talk to me about?’

  He paused for a moment and seemed for once to look a bit unsure of himself, but then he went on, ‘Look, Kelly Ann, I was just wondering if you wanted to meet up after school today. We could go to the café for a Coke and maybe have a pizza later. What do you think?’

  I stared at his gorgeous face, puzzled. ‘What for?’

  ‘Well, I don’t know. I mean, it’s just that I really like talking to you. You’re different from most girls. Interesting. And, well, fun.’

  ‘Are you asking me for a date?’ I asked incredulously.

  He smiled. ‘Well, yeah, I suppose so. Yeah, I am. So can I see you after school today?’

  ‘But why would you want to date someone like me?

  You could have anyone.’

  ‘Don’t want just anyone. You’re, well, special. You’re not like most girls I meet – always giggling and talking rubbish. I feel you really listen to what I have to say. That you’re interested in me as … well’ – he reddened – ‘as a person, I suppose. That’s why you’re the only girl I ever sent a Valentine’s card to. Bit cheesy, I know.’ He grinned. ‘Did you never guess who it was from?’

  For a moment I almost fell for it. How embarrassing. God, Michael really was a good actor. But then I remembered it was April 1st. Aha! Like I’m really going to fall for that one. I smiled back. ‘Sorry, Mike, I’m busy to
day.’

  ‘OK, well, fair enough. I suppose it is kinda short notice. What about tomorrow then?’ he said, still giving me his nice-guy Colgate grin.

  ‘Busy tomorrow too.’

  His smile wavered a bit. Maybe he realized his April fool wasn’t working. But he persisted anyway. ‘So, is there any time you’ve got free when we could meet up? Maybe next week?’

  ‘Nah, sorry. Fact is, I don’t think of you in that way.

  You’re way too ugly for me.’

  He flushed. Hmm, so it’s OK for him to play jokes on people but he can’t take it when it’s the other way about. ‘I’m not ugly.’

  ‘Course you’re not,’ I said, mock soothingly. ‘You’re just not my type, that’s all. Not, um, blond enough. Yeah, I only date blonds, I’m afraid.’

  ‘You don’t want to go out with me because of the colour of my hair? That’s it?’ He looked at me contemptuously. ‘Well, in that case I’m glad you said no. I thought you were different from other girls. There’s no way I want anything to do with a girl so totally shallow.’

  Then he turned and marched off.

  As I watched his retreating back I realized the horrible truth – that, oh my God, he’d been serious. The hottest guy in the whole school had just asked me out and I’d said no.

  I could have been the envy of everyone. At the very least no one would be calling me a lesbian or Ikea Girl again. And Shelly would have been sick with jealousy.

  But no, I’d turned him down.

  ‘****!!!’

  FRIDAY APRIL 2ND

  ‘Just imagine, Kelly Ann,’ Liz said, trying to comfort me, ‘when word gets out you’ve actually knocked back the school’s total sex god, everyone’s going to think you’re, like, beyond cool. Bet you’ll have every fit guy for miles around desperate to date you.’

  ‘Don’t need loads of fit guys. Just one, so people stop going on about me being weird and leave me alone. And I could have had that.’

  ‘Well, why don’t you try explaining things to Michael then? Tell him you thought it was an April fool’s joke. Might work.’

  Spotted Michael heading off to the toilets at lunch time. Wouldn’t have been surprised if his groupies had followed him there, but fortunately even they must have decided that was a bit OTT so I was able to catch him on his own as he came out again.

  Took a deep breath and marched up to him. Thought he might just ignore me but he didn’t. Instead he looked at me in a kind of hurt way and said, ‘Hi. You wanted to talk to me?’

  I stared at his gorgeous film-star face and gazed into his deep green eyes, then I squeaked, ‘Aayah-sh-sh. I, um, dunno … um.’

  It was hopeless. Michael gave me a bored look, shrugged and walked away.

  Oh God. Never thought I’d have anything in common with Shelly but, unfortunately, this one time I did.

  MONDAY APRIL 5TH

  Didn’t notice any fit guys paying me much attention. Did notice a new graffiti message in the girls’ toilets that said KELLY ANN IS DEFINITELY A LES.

  Brilliant. This month was not starting out too well. Still, at least since Liz is not going out with Peter any more, I can stay over at her place Saturday and won’t have to endure the company of my sister and her nerd, who have pointedly told me they intend to stay in. I mean, why can’t they go out clubbing and getting totally wasted like normal people their age?

  After school I went to see our school team play Shawbridge, who we beat last year by a crushing six–nil and who’ve since vowed revenge. Rumour has it they’re better now, with a lot of new players, but I think we’ll still win.

  Liz reluctantly agreed to come with me even though ‘watching a crowd of idiot boys kicking a ball about in the mud’ was not her idea of fun.

  I was surprised to see Linda and her friends Beth and Sue there, as I thought they were about as keen on football as Liz; however, from the remarks I overheard when I passed them on my way back from the toilet, it soon became clear why they’d come.

  ‘Mmmm, isn’t he gorgeous?’

  ‘Oh yeah, he’s OK, but look at the other one – the goalie – now he’s hot.’

  Wouldn’t have been so bad if Beth and Sue weren’t talking about Shawbridge boys, although Linda only seemed to have eyes for Chris. Hmm, the rumours about her fancying Chris must be true. Don’t think Chris knows though, or if he does he’s not interested.

  Our team won easily, three–nil. I like watching football but I’d much rather be playing. I’ve asked Mr Ferguson twice this term to give me a trial but he’s always found some excuse not to. It’s just totally sexist and so unfair. I’m as good as any boy. Better than most. That’s it: I’m going to see Ferguson again and force him to take me seriously.

  TUESDAY APRIL 6TH

  Found Ferguson at lunch time. I knew he was supposed to be taking the sixth-year boys for a cross-country run this lunch time as they are training for a charity marathon, but as usual this meant taking them to the gates of the park and waving them off while he went to the pub for a pint to wait for their return. My plan was to head him off before he got to the pub and speak to him about joining the football team.

  I was in luck as he’d stopped for a fag by the park gates. When he saw me he threw the butt away, muttering something about having confiscated it from a pupil and what a filthy habit it was.

  Yeah, right. I suppose he must have confiscated the nicotine-stained fingers from a pupil too. He looked annoyed at having his fag break interrupted but I pressed on anyway, begging and pleading to be on the school team.

  At first he just said no way, he’d told me before, but I wouldn’t let up. He kept looking at his watch, conscious, I suppose, of his lost drinking time, until at last he gave in. ‘All right, Kelly Ann. Come to the practice at four o’clock today and I’ll give you a trial. Now I’ve really got to get on with some lesson preparation and important administration.’

  At that he hurried off to the pub without even acknowledging my shouted, ‘Thanks, Mr Ferguson. Thanks a million. I won’t let you down.’

  Turned up at the playing field at four. Didn’t have any kit so had to play in my usual school clothes and trainers but I hoped Mr Ferguson would make allowances for that. The whole school team were there doing various exercises and practice stuff, but also keeping an eye on what happened with me. Chris jogged up to wish me a hurried ‘Good luck’ before moving off again to practise penalty kicks at the other end of the pitch.

  I was quite nervous as I hadn’t played any football in ages. Used to play five a side with Chris and his pals until Ian, who is over six feet and, as my dad puts it, built like a brick shit house (very well built), fell on me and crushed my ribs. Dad wouldn’t let me play again after that but I think he’ll be OK about the school team as there’s no one as big or clumsy as Ian in it.

  Mr Ferguson turned to me and smiled, which was really unlike him and a bit menacing somehow. Then he told me to give him fifty. For a moment I thought he was asking me for money as some sort of joining fee, so I hoped he meant pence and not pounds, but then he pointed to the muddy ground and made it clear he meant push-ups. And he wouldn’t accept knees-on-the–ground, girly push-ups, like Miss Paterson, our gym teacher, does, but toe and hand contact only. There was no way I could do this and he knew it, but he made me try anyway. After the tenth push-up I collapsed face down in the mud, so he just barked ‘Failed’ and started to walk away.

  I ran after him. ‘Wait, Mr Ferguson, this is just so unfair!’ He ignored me and carried on but I managed to get in front of him. I walked backwards facing him, which forced him to slow down. I knew this was a bit cheeky but he’d been just so unfair and I wasn’t going to let him get away with it, teacher or not.

  ‘You’re not being fair,’ I gasped. ‘I’m not unfit. I’m not. I can do the splits. Look.’ I did a perfect splits right there in front of him so that he nearly tripped over me. I scrambled up again. ‘I bet no one else on this pitch could do that. And anyway, no one needs to do press-ups to play a game
of football.’

  ‘No one needs to do the ruddy splits either,’ Mr Ferguson pointed out. ‘But OK, fair enough. Let’s have a football test instead.’

  He dropped a ball at my feet and told me to take it to one of the goal posts. Then he instructed me to kick it as far as I could. If it got to the other goal I was in. He gave me three tries but there was no way I was powerful enough. I argued with him some more but he wouldn’t listen, just called Osman and Chris over. He told Osman to ‘give him fifty’, and right away, even though he is small and skinny like me, Osman dropped to the ground and did fifty press-ups, no bother. Osman said, ‘Sorry, Kelly Ann.’

  Then Mr Ferguson told Chris to kick the ball to the other goal. At first Chris kicked it way short but Mr Ferguson just barked, ‘Stop fannying about like a big girl’s blouse and kick the ruddy ball or you’ll be off the team faster than you can say “Please, sir, that’s no’ fair.” ‘

  No one seemed surprised at a teacher using this sort of language as apparently Mr Ferguson has said that his outside school hours work is voluntary so he’ll talk any sodding way he ruddy well wants and if anyone doesn’t like it they can just sod off.

  Chris kicked the ball to the other net, then muttered, ‘Sorry, Kelly Ann.’

  At this Mr Ferguson turned to me and said, ‘What part of the word no don’t you understand?’

  It was hopeless. Ferguson wasn’t ever going to let me on the team. Looks like I’m never going to succeed at boy stuff. But I’m useless at girl stuff too, like getting boyfriends. Brilliant.

  WEDNESDAY APRIL 7TH

  Liz’s dad has found out that she was going out with Peter ‘behind his back’, so has grounded her and docked her pocket money for a month. He says the month is to reflect the amount of time she’d lied to him about Peter. Actually it was five weeks but Liz wisely didn’t correct him.

  I’ve told Liz I’ll save up from my allowance to pay back Chris, then she can give me the money when she starts getting pocket money again.