Boys Beware
Page 7
Meg, Shauna and the others were dead impressed. I could tell from the way they were looking at me, like, “Wow!” Like seeing me through new eyes. I mean, the fact that Tash said he fancied me! Obviously if I’d said it, it would have been more like polite smiles and “Oh, yeah?”
It makes you feel good when your friends look at you with respect. And it is all thanks to Tash! It’s lovely that we are so loyal to each other.
Tuesday
Discussed Miss Selby over tea. (Spaghetti hoops and mashed bananas.) I speculated that the reason she is so sour and embittered is that she has never managed to get herself a man. Tash agreed that that might be the case, but then suggested that possibly she was sour and embittered to begin with, and thus no man will go anywhere near her. She added that of course she might be a lesbian. I said, “Not that that is any reason to be sour and embittered because look at Auntie Jay … she is anything but sour and embittered.”
At this point, somewhat to our surprise as we didn’t think she had been paying any attention, Ali joined in and told us that we were talking nonsense. She said, “Auntie Jay isn’t a lesbian.”
Well, pardon me, but how does she know? She might be some kind of expert on astrology, or astronomy, or whatever it is, but when it comes to matters of s.e.x. she knows next to nothing at all!
Tash explained – quite nicely and gently – that just because one doesn’t like the idea of something, doesn’t mean it isn’t true.
“And in any case,” I said, “there is nothing wrong with being a lesbian.”
By now Ali had gone that dull sort of red which is what always happens when she’s bottling things up. Unlike me and Tash, who let it all hang out (or so Mum says), Ali is a bottler. We tried to encourage her. We told her to “Say it, whatever it is,” but she wouldn’t. She just muttered again that we were talking nonsense and went off to her broom cupboard, scooping Fat Man into her arms as she went.
Ali is such a puzzle! There is simply no understanding her.
Wednesday
Me and Tash are really angry. Really really angry. Ali has absolutely gone and done it! Yesterday, we felt fond of her. Today we are seething. We’d like to lock her in her cupboard and leave her there. She is not fit to be let out!
It just so happened that we both stayed late after school, me for the drama club and Tash for tennis practice. We didn’t get back till half-past five, by which time …
Suffice it to say that Ali has been up to her old tricks. Talking to people. People she finds on the street. People that drink, and stink, and probably take drugs. People you wouldn’t want to be within a million miles of! And there was one of them, sitting in our room, at our table, eating our food.
Me and Tash nearly went ballistic! I really thought that Ali had grown out of that disgusting habit. It is so unwholesome, and she is just so totally indiscriminate. She sees these people sitting there, in shop doorways, and she starts up these mad conversations, and next thing you know she’s claiming they’re her friend, and bringing them back home to stink the place out. Cos this one did stink! We could smell it as soon as we opened the door. I don’t mean to be unsympathetic, but it was just, like, completely and utterly DISGUSTING. Only of course you can’t actually say anything, since you don’t want to hurt people’s feelings.
Ali, as usual, remained blissfully unaware. She has this ability, things just wash over her. All bright and happy she tells us that this is Patricia, who’s just popped in for a bite to eat. Patricia looks like a pickled walnut, and I can’t decide whether it’s dirt or suntan. She’s also raving bonkers. Mum wouldn’t like me saying that as she is all for tolerance, but it just happens to be true. We got rid of her double quick and immediately scrubbed the table with Dettol. We are just so furious! We have both laid into Ali, telling her it will be all her fault if we go down with some dread disease or get eaten alive by fleas.
I said, “You can’t do things like that! It’s irresponsible.”
“It’s dangerous,” said Tash. “You could have got us all murdered.”
Well, she could! Patricia was definitely certifiable. We said this – well, shouted it, actually – and Ali just sat there, like completely unmoved. She wasn’t bottling: we just weren’t getting through to her. She waited till we’d finished yelling, then calmly stood up and said, “She can’t help the way she is, she’s had a very hard life.” And that was that! End of conversation.
Oh, God, Ali is so so weird! Did she do this thing to pay us back for upsetting her yesterday? Saying about Auntie Jay being a lesbian? Or did it just suddenly come over her, that she had to bring this stinking old woman back home? Mum once said that Ali has a “good heart”, and I know – I know! – that people like Patricia are lost souls and cannot help the way they are, I know that Ali is right and I am wrong, but it is very difficult to bear!
Thursday
Tash says she has been bitten by a flea. It could have come off Fat Man – or it could have come off Patricia. We are still very cross with Ali. We have told her, it is good to have compassion, but there is a limit. Unfortunately, I don’t think Ali knows what limits are. It’s like she has to watch Star Trek every day. I mean, every single day. We think she is probably a lost cause.
Gran rang up this evening to tell us that the photographs are on the way. Hurrah! I am longing to see them.
Friday
The photographs have come and they are great of Wackeen but not so good of me. Well, I don’t think they are. I think they make me look lumpy. I said this to Tash and she told me that I was talking rubbish. She said, “Nothing could make you look lumpy, you’re far too slim.”
I said, “But my face looks fat! Look at it!”
Tash looked and said she couldn’t see anything wrong with my face, and she took the photographs to school with her and insisted on showing them to everyone.
I kept trying to stop her. I screeched, “No, don’t! They’re horrible!” But people just kept snatching and grabbing and passing them round.
Actually, I don’t think they’re too bad. Of me, I mean. It’s only one that makes me look lumpy. The rest are quite good, I might even take them into Boots and get them blown up, except maybe that would be a bit show-offy. It’s not like I’m a movie star, or anything! But there is one of me and Wackeen together that I specially like. Everyone was going “Ooh” and “Aah” as they looked at it. I wonder if he will ever write to me???
Avril said it was a pity I couldn’t bring him along tomorrow as we are going to be very short of boys, so then we had to break the bad news about Gus not coming. Everyone was hugely disappointed, it made us feel like we had let them down. Kim said, “Well! I thought by now you’d have managed to get somewhere.” We found this remark somewhat irritating. Like she thought she would have got anywhere!
Tash, with great dignity, said, “It just so happens that he’s not into girls.”
There was this sort of silence, then Ishara, who is still quite babyish, said, “How can you tell?”
Tash said, “You just can.”
“Like if he doesn’t fancy Tash,” I said.
“And he doesn’t fancy Em—”
“He could still come along,” said Kim.
But we cannot face another brush off! It would be too humiliating. We quickly changed the subject and told them instead about Ali and how she had brought this old woman all covered in fleas back home with her. Everyone immediately screeched out in horror: “Ugh! Fleas!”
I said, “Yes, it was foul, but that’s Ali for you.”
Kim said, “Gross!”
Zoella wanted to know if Ali had got herself a boyfriend yet, and me and Tash gave these hollow laughs, like ho-ho-ho, but without any chuckle in the middle. I said this was what worried us. “How will she ever get one? She never goes anywhere, she never does anything!”
Zoella then said that she had this great idea. She said her cousin William is staying with them over the weekend. She said he’s fifteen and “quite nice” and “hugely clever
” but kind of “not very good-looking, if you know what I mean?” She says he finds it difficult to get girlfriends, being a bit shy as well as not very good-looking. She said, “He’d be just right for Ali!”
Tash and I agreed that he sounded like Ali’s sort of person, and Avril has said it’s OK if they both come along, so now we are really hopeful that we may have found a boyfriend for her. Tash says they will be able to sit together and be as clever as they like.
I said, “Yes, they can spend all evening talking to each other about red midgets and exploding holes and black whatever they ares.” And it won’t matter if Ali refuses to get dressed up or let us fix her hair, cos William won’t be fashion conscious and he probably won’t even notice that she chews her nails, and she won’t mind that he’s not good-looking cos they’ll both be far too busy talking boffin talk.
It will be such a relief if we can get Ali set up! It will be a weight off our minds. It will mean that we can concentrate all our energies on ourselves, for a change. I think Mum will be pleased too, cos I know she worries about Ali. Tash says we should have done it ages ago. “Found a boy for Ali.” She says Ali will be so much happier being normal. I agree! It can’t be nice to always feel that you are an outsider.
She is not here at the moment, but as soon as she comes in we are going to tell her. She has a date!
MATCHMAKERS UNITED!!!
Week 7, Saturday
Well. So much for trying to help people. Talk about ingratitude! Ali rolled up at six o’clock and we immediately told her about the invitation – the very kind and thoughtful invitation, considering she isn’t even one of us – and she said, “Oh, but I can’t, I’m doing things.”
Quite frankly, we were staggered. When does Ali ever do things? I mean, real things. Going-out-in-a-group-and-having-fun-type things. She doesn’t! Not ever.
Tash said, “When you say things—”
Ali said, “I’ve got stuff arranged.”
I said, “What stuff?”
“Stuff,” said Ali.
She is always so vague! She is for ever drifting in and out and not saying where she has been or who she has been there with. It’s useless to ask her as she will never tell you. I guess she’s going round to see Louise; she is the only friend we’ve ever heard her talk about. Goodness only knows what they get up to! Me and Tash grew quite impatient. Tash said, “If it’s Louise, you see her all the time. Surely just for once you could do something different?”
I told her that Avril had invited her specially. “Zoella’s cousin is coming. He’s a real egghead!” (Dad’s way of saying boffin.) “He’s desperate to meet you.” Tash added that they would find “so much to talk about.” But Ali just dug in her heels and said again that she had “stuff arranged”. She is a truly maddening person! She is just so stubborn.
We spent half the evening lecturing her. We said, “It’s for your own good.” We came straight out with it, we told her: “You’ll never get a boyfriend if you carry on like this!” We told her that she didn’t know how to speak to boys, or how to behave with boys. We told her how she didn’t take enough care about the way she dressed or the way she looked. We said, “You have to make an effort. These things don’t happen all on their own.” We may have seemed a bit brutal, but sometimes I do believe you have to be cruel to be kind. She cannot go on the way she is!!!
She sat in silence as we talked, but I honestly don’t know how much she took in. You can never tell with Ali whether she is actually listening to you or whether she is wandering off some place else. In her mind, I mean. At the end, when we’d exhausted ourselves and couldn’t think of a single other thing to say, she still just went on sitting there. I said, “Ali, we’re not getting at you! It’s just that we worry.”
She said, “Yes, I know. I must go and do my homework now.” And disappeared into her broom cupboard!
Tash and I are agreed: that is the very last time we bother. There are some people who just refuse to be helped, and Ali is obviously one of them.
I am now going to get ready, as we are leaving in half an hour. I don’t know what Ali is up to, and I really don’t care. I just feel sorry for poor William. He is going to be so disappointed!
Saturday. Evening.
Well, talk about a let down! Talk about birthday bash. It wasn’t a bash at all! Avril’s mum and dad were there. And her granny. And one of her aunties. Tash said it was more like an old folks’ convention! And not a single solitary boy except for Avril’s brother, who is too nerdy to count, and Zoella’s cousin William. Who is also nerdy. But the hugest of boffins!
I tried talking to him, just out of politeness, really, and also because nobody else was bothering, plus I felt kind of responsible, what with Ali not turning up, so I made this big effort and after about five minutes I felt like my brain was glazing over. I just don’t know how we got on to quadratic equations. It’s hardly what you would call a normal subject for conversation, though Ali might have found it so. I daresay she would enjoy talking about quadratic equations. She would find it stimulating. I’m sure people that are into them just love to exchange quadratic equation-type gossip. They might even make jokes! Me, I nearly died of boredom. It probably didn’t help that I can’t actually remember what a quadratic equation is.
Fortunately I can report that the evening was not a total waste as there was a gorgeous Orlando Bloom look-a-like waiting tables. Our table. We all fancied him like crazy! He, however, had eyes for no one but Tash. He kept ogling her, and she kept ogling back. If Gran thought I was being obvious with Wackeen, she should have seen Tash playing up to Orlando! Kim was really put out. She kept swizzling round on her chair and flashing these big lighthouse beams at him, but he took no notice, and serve her right. Personally I would never humiliate myself like that, I think it is truly demeaning.
Tash, needless to say, has now gone all obsessive and can’t stop talking about it. I don’t begrudge her her little moment of triumph. Far from it. I am happy for her! She deserves it; after all, it was her turn. It would have been just too embarrassing if it had been me he had gone for!
It is now half-past nine and Ali has come strolling in. We have very pointedly not asked her where she has been, but we do think, if we have to be home by half-past eight, then so should she. I know she is older than me and Tash, but she is not in the least bit streetwise. I am surprised at Auntie Jay, letting her stay out so late. I also think it was quite mean of her – Ali, that is – not to have come with us tonight. We told her that William was going to be there. They would have got on so well together! I said to her that he was really disappointed not to meet her. I said, “He is such an intelligent person … he told me all about quadratic equations.” I thought Ali would be impressed. I mean, she knows about these things! But all she said was, “That’s an odd thing to talk about.” and went into her broom cupboard.
She is the odd one, if you ask me. She will never get a boyfriend if she carries on like this.
If it hadn’t been for Orlando Bloom the evening would have been a bit of a let down. We have been trying to think what else we have to look forward to. There is Shauna’s party in two weeks’ time. Maybe that will live up to expectations.
Sunday
I do truly begin to wonder whether I will ever bother getting married, because I simply couldn’t stand having to go shopping every week, and do cooking and housework all the time. Tash says the answer is to a) find a partner that is rich rich RICH or b) pursue a career that pays LOADSAMONEY. That is all very well, but I have recently been thinking that I might like to work with donkeys, like at the Donkey Sanctuary, for example, and I don’t think that that would pay loadsamoney. Plus I would probably want to marry someone who also worked with donkeys, so that we could indulge our donkey passion together, and that means we wouldn’t have a bean between us and then it would be nothing but drudgery. Why is life so complicated???
Tash has asked Auntie Jay if we can all go and eat in the pizza restaurant next Saturday. She said, “T
hey do such heavenly gorgeous pizzas!” (Meaning: they have such heavenly gorgeous waiters.) Auntie Jay has said why not, what a good idea. I didn’t tell her that Tash just wants to make eyes at Orlando Bloom!
Monday
I bought a copy of Glam Girl on the way in to school. Tash likes Teens, I like Glam Girl. Mrs McDonald, on the other hand, doesn’t like either!!! It was one of the first things she told us when we moved up to Year 8. She said, “Gurrrls!” which made us nearly leap out of our skins as we thought she was having a fit, or something. It’s just the way she talks. She sounds like a machine gun with a frog in its throat. “I have tae tell ye, gurrls, that I will nae tolerrrate trrrash in ma classrrroom!” By trash she means virtually every magazine you can think of plus “pink books in shiny covers”, in other words, exactly the kind of books we all like to read! Shopping ‘n snogging ‘n a soupspoon of s-s-s-s-sex … Mrs McDonald says she “cannae abide them”. She gave us “due warrrning”.
“If I catch so much as a glimpse o’ one, I will tek it off ye!”
She is always tekking them off us. She may be old, but boy, she has eyes like laser beams! Not to mention a nose like a bloodhound. I swear she can sniff things out! Fortunately our first period was geography, with Mr Askew, who didn’t even notice when Tash one day had a nose bleed all over her desk, so I was able to sit there undisturbed reading this extremely interesting article on “How to Make the Most of Yourself”. Which, in my humble opinion, is likely to be of far more use to me in life than learning about rift valleys.
I told Tash about it at break, so then she wanted to borrow the magazine and read it in the next lesson, which was history, but I wouldn’t let her cos if Mrs McDonald has eyes like lasers, Miss Selby has ones that come out on stalks. They do! They are spring-loaded. They suddenly shoot out from the front of the class and land in front of you, whoosh! donk! when you are least expecting it. Very off-putting to find these baleful eyes suddenly glaring up at you. Tash sulked a bit, but I let her have a read over lunch and now we are eagerly thinking up new ways to make the most of ourselves ready for Shauna’s party, which is bound to be good as her parties always are.