My Dating Disasters Diary

by Liz Rettig

  ‘I don’t think alcohol is a good idea,’ I replied, genuinely concerned. ‘It’s very bad for your health.’

  However, my advice just seemed to annoy him. He put on a false snooty voice and said, ‘Awctually, yir ladyship, alkihole in modirition is viry good fir one’s hilth.’ Then he laughed wheezily. ‘No’ that I’ve ever tried it, mind. Moderation onyway.’ He tossed the 10p coin back at me. ‘Here, hen, ye look as though ye need this mair than me. Away and buy yersel’ a new pair o’ troosers.’

  Bloody nerve. Still, it has to be said he was probably better dressed than me. Today anyway.

  When I got back home I went to my room and examined myself in the mirror again. Now, OK, I suppose it could be said I needed some decent clothes, a top-class hairdresser and possibly breast implants, but I wasn’t really ugly, was I? My face was OK. Definitely. And at least I wasn’t plagued by spots like some people in my school. OK, sometimes I get a few but they usually clear up pretty quickly if I zap them with Clearasil. Yeah, I’d really nice skin actually. Well, except for that one tiny spot on my forehead, but so what?

  SUNDAY MAY 23RD

  Correction. Six rather large spots on my forehead, two on my chin and a pimple at the end of my nose. Brilliant. Just when I’m starting to care how I look, I turn into pizza-face.

  Decided to have a rummage in my sister’s room for her Clearasil. She hasn’t had any spots for ages now but I know she’s too mean to throw anything away. Sure enough, I found the bottle in her make-up bag in her chest of drawers. Also found condoms. Gross. I suppose this must mean she does actually do it with her sad boyfriend Graham – or at least intends to anyway.

  I stared at the condom packet. Maybe there was some other explanation. Perhaps she’s keeping them for a friend, but then why would she? Or maybe she planned to use them for something other than having sex, like, erm, a disposable shower hat for instance. Yeah, could be.

  Put this point to Liz later that night when she came round, but she was sceptical.

  ‘Honestly, Liz, I’ve heard there are loads of uses for condoms other than sex.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Such as, well, um, guerrilla fighters. Yeah, fighters in places like the Amazon jungle use them to keep bandages and rifle butts waterproof if they have to wade through rivers and swamps and stuff.’

  ‘Hmm, suppose so, but I can’t see Angela wading through the Amazonian jungle. It’s too messy for her. She won’t even use the school swimming pool in case boys have peed in it.’

  ‘Yuck. Do boys pee in the swimming pool? No, don’t tell me, Liz.’ I put my hands over my ears. ‘I won the pool bubble-blowing competition last year. I so don’t want to know.’

  When I was sure Liz wasn’t going to say any more about the pool thing, I took my hands from my ears and continued, ‘Anyway, OK, I’m not saying Angela uses condoms to keep guns and bandages waterproof. I’m just saying the fact that she has condoms in her drawers doesn’t mean she definitely uses them for sex.’

  ‘Of course it doesn’t,’ Liz agreed. ‘Maybe she cuts the ends off and uses them for, um, leg warmers or—’

  ‘Leg warmers? I don’t think—’

  ‘Or,’ Liz continued, ‘wet suits for leprechauns. Yeah, that’s the most likely.’

  I giggled but Liz had made her point. The truth is, my sister is almost certainly not a virgin any more. It’s horrible to think what she and her nerd boyfriend had been up to behind my back in my own home. Still, as Liz said, it’s probably better behind my back than not behind my back.

  MONDAY MAY 24TH

  Spots have not faded and in fact are even worse. Maybe the Clearasil isn’t going to work any more. I know it’s only a day, but still.

  Saw Emily with Chris at lunch time today. Couldn’t stop thinking about Saturday and how all those boys kept looking at her. And how Chris looked at her too. I wasn’t jealous of some girly idiot like Emily, was I?

  WEDNESDAY MAY 26TH

  Didn’t want to go to school today because of spots but Mum said I had to and no one looks at me anyway.

  Aunt Kate says beauty is only skin deep, whatever that’s supposed to mean. Yeah, maybe I’ve got gorgeous guts and fabulous-looking liver and kidneys, but who’s going to see them?

  THURSDAY MAY 27TH

  Scotland play Italy in Milan tonight and Chris has asked me and some other pals over to his place to watch the match on Sky. Am so excited. Hope we won’t be totally humiliated though: Italy are just so good, but at least no one is expecting us to win. Imagine we did though. OK, I know it would take a miracle but they do happen, don’t they?

  Chris’s parents will be watching the game at the pub so we’ll have the house to ourselves. Yay.

  Went over just after seven. Gary and Ian were already there. Unfortunately so was Emily, who was dressed all in pink and wearing false eyelashes so long and thick that she had to squint to see out of them. Come to think of it, Emily always wears false eyelashes, even at swimming lessons, but never ones as big and bushy as these; she looked like she’d glued two furry caterpillars to her lids.

  Chris’s parents were just getting ready to leave. His dad has said we can help ourselves to snacks and drinks but if we touch the beer we’re dead. Chris’s mum repeated the warning and added that she’d be popping back at half-time to check up on us. Hmmm, nice to be trusted.

  Since Chris’s dad is a police detective, even Gary isn’t going to chance it.

  ‘He’ll probably breathalyse us then dust every bottle for prints,’ he moaned.

  ‘Won’t need to,’ Ian said. He turned to look at Chris. ‘Bet your mum could probably tell just by looking at our pupils or something. Better stick to Irn Bru.’

  Chris’s mum is a nurse. It’s just as well Chris is super smart or he’d never get away with anything with parents like that.

  After his parents left we switched on the TV and chatted for a bit while we waited for the game to start. I tried to talk to Emily but she just gave me a tight smile about as welcoming as a shark’s grin, then ignored me. Don’t understand why she dislikes me so much. OK, we don’t have anything in common, but I’ve never done anything nasty to her.

  Don’t understand either why she agreed to watch a game she’d obviously zero interest in. Once the match started she spent most of the time playing with her hair, redoing her make-up, or asking Chris for the umpteenth time to explain the offside rule to her, then giggling when she didn’t get it, like this was cute instead of totally moronic. Mind you, from the indulgent, superior smiles the boys gave her, maybe they did think it was cute.

  They weren’t so pleased when Italy scored and she cheered by mistake.

  Just before half-time she picked up her make-up bag and disappeared into the bathroom, probably to brush her eyelashes or something equally important – then it happened: Scotland scored an equalizer. Couldn’t believe it. I mean, Italy has the best defenders in the whole world. Scoring a goal against them is like trying to break into a tank with a feather duster. But we did it!

  We all leaped up at once, screaming and waving our arms in the air. ‘Goal! It’s a goal!’ Then we were hugging each other, laughing and screaming. Chris lifted me off the ground and spun round with me as we started chanting, ‘Easy, eeeaaasy!’

  Just then, Emily returned, scowling like a gargoyle. At first I thought she was gutted at missing the goal but soon realized it was just me and Chris she was glaring at, like she’d just caught us snogging or something.

  What an idiot. I mean, Scotland had just scored against Italy, for God’s sake. In Milan! Even Ian and Gary were hugging, and yeah, Ian had lifted Gary off his feet too and was swinging round with him.

  Chris quickly set me down. It was half-time so I decided to go to the toilet and leave Emily and Chris to sort things out.

  Just before I got to the living-room door Emily called after me, ‘Oh, Kelly Ann?’

  I turned round. Her gargoyle glare had gone but she still stared at me with eyes so narrow her lashes nearly
stuck together. She waved her make-up bag at me and said, ‘Want to borrow my concealer for your spots? You’ve got quite a big one on your chin.’

  Before I could answer she put her bag down again. ‘Oh, I forgot, you don’t worry about your looks, do you? Must say, I really admire that. It would be fantastic to be so totally confident that you don’t care how awful you look.’

  ‘What’s that supp—?’

  ‘Not that you do, of course. Look awful, I mean.’

  Yeah, right.

  I trudged off to the bathroom and examined my face. She was right about the spot on my chin. It was practically the size of a grape. And there was a crop of smaller ones growing on my forehead. Oh God, I did look awful. I wasn’t stupid and vain like Emily but I didn’t want to look like my face was erupting either.

  When I came out, Chris’s mum was just opening the outside door and coming into the hall. She was smiling, but when she saw me she frowned and said, ‘What’s the matter, Kelly Ann? I thought you’d be happy Scotland equalized.’

  ‘Yeah, I am, but, well, it’s these.’ I pointed to my spots. ‘They’re worse than ever, no matter what I do.’

  I thought she’d just nod sympathetically, or maybe even tell me not to moan because I didn’t have a horrible disease like cancer or something, like the people she works with, but she was really nice. She took me back into the bathroom and handed me a tub of blue paste stuff, which she told me to put on my face every day for a month, leaving it on as long as possible. ‘It doesn’t work for everyone, Kelly Ann, but it’s worth a try.’

  When we went back into the living room, Emily was practically in tears. Turned out one of her false eyelashes had come unstuck and fallen into Gary’s Irn Bru. He fished it out and handed the soggy thing to her but it was ruined.

  Chris’s mum wasn’t as nice to Emily as she’d been with me. ‘It’s not the end of the world, Emily,’ she said. ‘Just take the other one off.’

  Emily did look stupid with just one false-lashed eye but, bloody hell, now I knew why she always wore fake ones. Her own lashes were stubby and so sparse you could count each one.

  She insisted on going home so, with a sigh, Chris’s mum offered her a lift back even though that would make her late back to the pub for the start of the second half.

  But I had a fabulous time after that. It was great to be with Chris again without Emily spoiling things. Even when Italy scored again, winning two–one, it didn’t totally spoil things. It had been a fantastic game and we’d played really well against a shit-hot team. I even forgot about my spots.

  When I got back home though, I put on the blue paste stuff that Chris’s mum had given me. I looked a bit like the Cookie Monster, but if it works it will be worth it.

  FRIDAY MAY 28TH

  Went to watch our football team play Elmwood after school. Emily was there – I guess because Chris was playing, since I now know for sure she’s not remotely interested in football. It was a great game and we won three–nil but Emily looked bored. She also threw me a dirty look when I talked to Chris afterwards.

  Honestly.

  I ignored her furious scowl which, if she’d only known, made her face look as attractive as a chewed toffee, and continued talking to Chris, but he seemed uneasy and cut me off: ‘I’d best go get changed, Kelly Ann.’

  Thinking it over, I was quite annoyed with Chris and called him tonight to tell him so but he wouldn’t listen.

  ‘Look, Kelly Ann, Emily’s my girlfriend. It’s only natural she gets jealous sometimes if I talk to other girls.’

  ‘Jealous? But that’s stupid! Totally mental. Just tell her—’

  ‘Maybe,’ Chris interrupted, ‘but that’s how it is. She’s no different from most other girls. Look, people change.

  Move on. It’s part of growing up.’

  ‘Yeah, well, if growing up means ignoring your best friends, then you can count me out,’ I said, slamming the phone down.

  Chris called back but I refused to talk to him. I’d let him stew for a while before accepting his hopefully grovelling apologies. Wish he’d get rid of Emily. Why can’t he see she’s just a stupid, boring girl who stops him having any fun?

  SATURDAY MAY 29TH

  Was on my way to Liz’s when I bumped into Emily, for once not with Chris. I just nodded hello and was going to walk on when she surprised me by smiling and saying, ‘Oh, hi, Kelly Ann. You know, this is weird, I was just thinking about you.’

  ‘About me?’

  ‘Yeah. Actually, this is great because I was kind of hoping to get the chance to talk to you about things.’

  ‘What things?’ I asked, puzzled.

  ‘Well, erm, I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, Kelly Ann, but the thing is, you see, Chris is getting a bit embarrassed with you always hanging around him now.’

  I glared at her. ‘That’s rubbish. Don’t believe you.’

  ‘It’s true.’ She paused and stared at me in a concerned kind of way. ‘Oh God, don’t tell me he hasn’t said anything to you? Not even kind of hinted?’

  I flushed, remembering the phone call yesterday. Is that what Chris had been trying to tell me? Surely he wouldn’t do that to me. He was my best friend, after all.

  She waited, obviously expecting me to say something, but now I wasn’t sure what to think any more.

  When I didn’t reply she went on, ‘I mean, he likes you and everything. But, you know, he feels it’s kinda time to move on. No offence.’

  She paused again. Still I said nothing.

  ‘Oh God,’ she said, ‘I hope I haven’t upset you.’

  Felt my eyes start to tear up but blinked them back. I would not let her see me cry. At last I said a bit shakily, ‘Why didn’t he tell me himself if that’s really how he feels?’

  ‘Oh, you know boys.’ She laughed. ‘Total cowards about stuff like this. And anyway, Chris is such a nice guy. He wouldn’t want to hurt anyone. Asked me to have a word with you, sort of girl to girl.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘So, you OK then?’

  ‘Oh God, yeah, of course.’

  ‘Cool. You know, Chris was convinced you’d be gutted.’ She chuckled. ‘Boys. They’re so bigheaded. Always thinking they’re way more important to us girls than they really are.’

  ‘Yeah.’ I attempted to laugh too but it came out more like a maniacal cackle so I stopped abruptly. ‘Actually, the truth is, I was meaning to speak to Chris about this myself.’

  ‘You were?’

  ‘Yeah, um, in fact I was just going to say it was time we sort of cooled the friendship a bit. I mean, we’re not kids any more and, well, him always being around is kind of putting boys off asking me out and stuff.’

  ‘Yeah, totally. It must do.’ She smiled at me. ‘So, actually, you must really be relieved about all this.’

  ‘God, yeah.’

  ‘So, do you want me to tell Chris what you said? You know, how you were just going to ask him to stop hanging out with you? Or do you want to tell him yourself?’ ‘No, you do it. It’s fine.’

  She looked at her watch. ‘God, is that the time? I’ve got to get a move on. I’m meant to be meeting Chris in ten minutes. It’s been great talking to you. See ya.’

  ‘Yeah, nice talking to you too.’

  Yeah, bloody fantastic.

  SUNDAY MAY 30TH

  Chris came round to my house this afternoon. When I opened the door he didn’t come in and I didn’t ask him. His face was grim. Hmm, maybe he was annoyed that I’m not as gutted as he thought I’d be. Honestly, Emily’s right. Most boys are so up themselves.

  ‘Emily told me what you said. Did you mean it? You don’t want us to be friends any more.’

  ‘Oh, that,’ I said casually. ‘No, of course we’re friends. I mean, we haven’t fallen out or anything. It’s just that, yeah, we’ve been spending too much time together. And, you know, I’m busy with other things these days. You are too.’

  ‘I haven’t done something to upset you?’

  �
��God, no. You didn’t upset me at all. It’s cool. Just, you know, time to move on.’

  He was silent for a moment, then he said, sounding a bit puzzled, ‘So you’re still talking to me?’

  ‘Yeah, course I am. God, we’re not primary kids falling out over nothing any more.’ I looked at my watch. Of course, I didn’t actually have anything planned, but looking at my watch wasn’t lying. ‘Anyway, glad that’s out the way. So’ – I put on a pleasant, formal voice – ‘was there anything else?’

  ‘Well, um, no, I suppose not.’

  ‘Fine.’ I stretched my lips into a smile. ‘See ya.’

  Then I closed the door. I climbed the stairs to my bedroom feeling very pleased with how I’d handled the whole thing. Calm, mature, dignified.

  Passed Angela coming down the stairs. She said, ‘Aren’t you going to take that blue stuff of your face yet? You’ve had it on for more than an hour now.’

  Oh God.

  FRIDAY JUNE 4TH

  Chris and I are still friends. Sort of. We talk to each other at school and he called me once to remind me about a Man U versus Chelsea game on the TV that night. It’s all very mature and civilized but nothing’s the same any more.

  Difficult now to imagine that he was once my closest friend and that I shared all my secrets with him. Well, not all my secrets of course, like the fact I have to shove toilet paper down even a trainer bra to get it to fit properly and that I still can’t use tampons, no matter how many times I try, because the diagrams they give you along with the instructions are so totally useless and look nothing like me. Not that I actually know what I look like down there – I’m not a contortionist – but I’m pretty sure no one really looks like the diagrams. So, yeah, not all my secrets, obviously, but still lots of stuff.

  Now it’s all kind of false, polite conversation. Seems unreal somehow. If this is being grown up like Mum wants me to be, then it sucks.

  Gary is having a sort of party at his house tomorrow and has invited loads of people. I say ‘sort of party’ as Gary’s parents don’t know about it – they are going to be at a dinner-dance thing in Edinburgh and won’t be back until around one in the morning. I’ve told Gary I don’t want to go. Just don’t fancy the idea of any more polite conversation with Chris – or Emily come to that, as they are both likely to be there – although that’s not what I said to Gary of course.