Boys Beware (8 page)

I have said this to her. In spite of being such hugely best friends, we never hesitate to criticise. We take it all in good part! I was not in the least put out the other day, for instance, when Tash told me that “You have a most peculiar walk!” She said she had never noticed it
before, but “You lean
backwards
.” And she showed me what I looked like, and it made me feel so self-conscious! She said, “I hope you didn’t mind, but I thought you ought to know.” And I thanked her for drawing it to my attention, and said that I felt grateful to her, because this is what friends ought to do.

I am now trying very hard
not
to lean backwards, and Tash says it’s already much better. She has told me that if ever she starts to walk funny, “Or like if my breath smells, or something,” I am to be sure to tell her immediately. So I told her about being too forward and she said rather sniffily that that was “a matter of opinion.” She said that some boys like girls to take the initiative. I said, “Oh! Is that what you were doing?” Personally I would have said that she was monopolising, but there are those of us that can take criticism and those that can’t. I’m afraid Tash is obviously one of the latter. What a disappointment! Just as she was starting to get the tiniest bit on my nerves, however, she fortunately backed down and admitted that I could be right. She then became all humble and
wailed that she didn’t have any feminine charms and no boy would ever look twice at her.

“Especially not Gosh! I mean, Gus. I’m too up front, aren’t I? I’m too pushy. Oh, God! He’s bound to prefer you to me!”

I am so relieved that Tash climbed down off her high horse. I was only trying to be helpful! As to which one of us Gus will prefer … well! We shall have to wait and see.

Cooked pancakes tonight, but something went wrong. They turned all grey and leathery, and squeaked when I prodded them. How can a pancake squeak???

Tash and Ali said they couldn’t eat them, so I was forced to open a tin of ravioli. At least it wasn’t beans!

Friday

Everyone at school is hugely excited about the party. We are, too. I suspect it will be a little different from the one we had last year, with Mum and Dad benignly
hovering, and not a boy in sight! Of course, we were only just twelve. We have matured a lot since then.

Spent all evening deciding what to wear. Tash thinks her red ra-ra skirt with a halter top and her trainers. I think so, too. Short skirts really suit her!

I am probably going for my floaty gypsy skirt with my new wrap top. Either that or my denim fishtail. I can’t make up my mind!

If I wear the denim it means I could wear my canvas boots to go with it. I just love those boots! On the other hand, the gypsy skirt is more flattering. Also more romantic!

I am going to sleep on it.

Week 3, Saturday

Auntie Jay is so lovely! She has provided all the food and drink for our party.

She said, “I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I just bought a bit of everything. It should be enough, do you think?”

We were completely knocked out! I said that it would be enough to feed an entire army, and Auntie Jay laughed and said that if teenagers of today were anything like when she was young, they would “go at it like a horde of locusts”. We have spread it all out on the table and can’t stop gloating over it. Tash said it made her feel safe to have it there. She said she had woken up in the middle of the night and started worrying about terrorists again. What worries her now is in case they come on a Friday or Saturday, before we’ve done the shopping. Very earnestly she told me that “The best day would be a Sunday, cos then we’d have stocked up.”

Honestly! I really thought she had got over this obsession. I know it’s frightening, but there is no point in dwelling on it. We have to get on with our lives. That is what they did in New York; they didn’t let themselves be defeated. I said this to Tash. I said, “I think it’s important that we show our utter contempt and carry on the same as normal, otherwise it will mean that they’ve won.”

I expected her to argue, or tell me once again that I was insensitive, but to my surprise she said that I was quite right. She said, “From now on, I am simply going
to forget about it. “I told her that that was the best idea she had had in a long time, and suggested that we turn our thoughts to something more frivolous, such as the party. Tash said, “Parties aren’t frivolous … we might meet Gorgeous Boys.” And then she clapped a hand to her mouth and said, “You know what? We haven’t check what Ali’s going to wear!”

Omigod! So we hadn’t. Left to herself, Ali is likely to be a complete disaster. We immediately prised her away from the computer and demanded that we go through her wardrobe. She spends way too much time on that computer, if you ask me. Getting broadband was a BIG MISTAKE. Surfing the net is not real life! I do sometimes worry about Ali. How can she ever hope to find a boyfriend if she isn’t interested in clothes, or make-up, or how she looks? If she does nothing but watch her
Star Trek
videos and mess around in cyberspace? She needs to get out there and get a life!

Tash said, “Ali, it’s for your own good.”

Well, it is! I know we’re partly thinking of ourselves, cos it is so utterly cringe-making when she turns up looking like she’s just crawled out of a compost heap; but mainly we are thinking of what is best for her. Surely even Ali must feel better when she’s dressed nicely?

She does
have
decent stuff in her wardrobe; Mum makes sure of that. She just never wears it! It’s not what you would call ultra chic, cos Mum has no idea and
neither does Ali, but at least it’s not cringe-making. The only problem is, she hasn’t brought very much with her. She said, “I didn’t think I’d need it.” Like we were going into hibernation for two months? Of course, if Ali had her way she probably would go into hibernation.

We took out everything there was and laid it on the bed. Then we looked at each other.

“Well! She can’t wear any of
this,”
said Tash. “Except, maybe …” She pulled out a pair of cord trousers. “These aren’t so bad. The colour’s a bit naff—”

Pink.
That was Mum. She has this fixed idea that all young people should to go round looking like maypoles. She just hates it when me and Tash wear black!

Tash said, “What d’you reckon?”

I said the trousers would just about pass, but as for any of the tops – forget it! Saggy vests, droopy T-shirts … In the end, I very nobly sacrificed my wrap top. It’s the only thing I have that even remotely fits her. Even so, it’s a tidge on the small side, but not so’s you’d notice. I think she looks really good in it. Really sophisticated. I said this to her, and in doubtful tones she said, “You’re not just saying it?”

I said, “No! I mean it.”

Ali said, “You don’t think it’s too tight?”

“It’s not too tight,” said Tash. “It’s a perfect fit! It shows off your boobs.”

Well! That was
absolutely
the wrong thing to say. It took me a good ten minutes to calm her down and convince her that she looked ace. Which she does! Ali can be really pretty if she just takes a bit of trouble with herself. Tash wanted to style her hair, so we looked through
Glam Girl
until we found something we thought would suit her. It’s really cool! We’ve taken two long bits from the side and sort of twisted them into ropes and tied them in a knot on top of her head. It looks
so
much better than having it all hanging about like she usually does.