Super Awkward (33 page)

No biggie, she'd already told us that ages ago.

“Thing is. . .” A grin crept back on to what was meant to be her serious face. “I had to do a particularly aggressive triple backflip. And as I did, they all flew out. Right in the judges' faces.” I snorted at the image
of
Tegan's exploding fluff chest. Between the kind of laugh that you need to bend over for, she tried to eek out the final details.

“I didn't want to lose points. So . . . so I, told . . . them . . . they . . . were . . . for . . . m-m-medicinal . . . boob . . . sweat . . . purposes!”

I officially crossed the line between ‘laughing' and ‘laughing so hard I cried'. It actually hurt. Could sides
actually
split? This was so un-Tegan like?! My muscles ached with being too entertained. This was basically exercise.

But the laughing didn't let up. I had to curl into a foetal position to be able to deal with Rachel's description of her emergency A&E trip. She'd always told us it happened after she fell off one of her mum's exercise balls. But apparently the real story was that she was listening so hard at Dan's door – to his convo with his fit friend – that when they opened it unexpectedly, the handle caught in her hoop earring and ripped it out. Fit friend ended up driving her to hospital as she blubbed in the passenger's seat, wearing a pair of pink earmuffs to stem the blood flow. Glam.

We stayed in the garden talking, chewing, laughing and snort-laughing until there was almost no light left in the
evening.
Turns out however well we thought we knew each other, we all still had a whole heap of funny things we thought we'd never be able to tell other humans. I felt so happy (and full of sweets) I could almost pop. But it wasn't just because I'd found out that the others were almost as rubbish at life as I was. It was because this terrible term had somehow term-inated with us being better friends than ever.

As Tegan was about to launch into her final story, her dad shouted that she had a visitor. Flustered, she leapt up and ran into the house, faster than me when my mum tries to drag me into her ‘Suppleness and Sexuality' workshops. Rachel and I gave each other a look meaning we'd both clocked something was up. Tegan never got flummoxed by anything.

When she came back, instead of walking straight back out she knocked on the back door, and poked her head outside.

“So, er, there's one last thing I haven't told you guys.”

I sat bolt upright.

Had she ordered surprise pizza for us all? I was ready and willing to deal with THAT news. Even if it was evil mushroom.

“
Don't be mad. But, I . . . I guess it's time you met someone. . .” She hid behind the door to compose herself before popping her head back out. “Meet my . . . my boyfriend.”

I took such a massive breath of surprise that I inhaled an entire daddy-longlegs that had been in mid-flight. RIP DLL. Rachel grabbed my hand. So it was news to her too. This was news of the century. And that included when Louis Tomlinson's baby was born.

I craned my neck to see round the door. Who WAS this person Tegan had kept secret?! Who had won over the girl who wasn't bothered by any boy (except Rachel's brother, but he had a boyf so she couldn't have him anyway).
Gulp
. It was going to be
our
friend duty to totally start hanging out with him. He'd better be AMAZING. Amazing enough to deserve Tegan. But not so amazing that we also became obsessed with him and it all got awkward. Please tell me it's not Zac?!

Tegan pushed the door open. And grinned.

And it all fell in to place.

Her boyfriend stepped forward.

And he was smiling so hard it looked like he'd just found out he'd won a lifetime of Chomps.

I
approved. And from Rachel massive smile, so did she.

“Surprise!” Mikey winked at us.

And with that he scooped Tegan into his arms and planted a massive kiss on her cheek.

CHAPTER

TWENTY
-
EIGHT

“So how was it then?”

Jo hadn't been home when I got back from the dirty-laundry-party night. Still, I'd been in so much shock over the Mikey revelation that I would have struggled with sentences anyway. I swear I was happier than if
I'd
found a major perfect boyfriend of my own.

This morning, while I'd spent hours building up the energy to think about getting out of bed, my overachieving sister had already gone out for athletics training. Now she was back and perched on a stool eating what looked like flakes of charcoal (which turned out to be roasted Brussel-sprout leaves she'd discovered in the oven). After all the help she'd given
me,
Jo was desperate to hear all about how yesterday's big reveal had gone.

But this convo required a clothes cuddle. I ran up and pulled on my extra-fluffy dressing gown over my PJs, regardless of the fact that it was the middle of the day. I tromped back downstairs three at a time and jumped up on to the stool next to her.

“Wellllll, basically it was like the worst thing ever. But also the best, and now everything is great. So thank you. Loads. And I'm going to see Velvet Badger. And you can come.”

“Think I'll pass, thanks.” Jo had moved on to chopping vegetables and lime jelly into tiny cubes. “Don't ask – Mum's read that eating green food improves life expectancy, so all we've got is this or gherkins.”

I'd take gherkins every time.

“Your loss. They're like the best guitar band EVER. Although Keith's not well at the moment. And he's the guitar.” Out of habit I shoved whatever food was nearest into my mouth, which turned out to be some jelly and celery (jellery?). I tried unsuccessfully to pretend I was enjoying it.

“Anyway, Mikey and Tegan are basically going to get married. They're TOTALLY TOGETHER. And it's
beyond
cute. And Rachel and I will be bridesmaids. Although I don't really want to have to stand next to her wearing the same dress for compare and contrast reasons. Although Tegan doesn't believe in marriage so maybe they'll just have a commitment ceremony and I'll be OK.”

Once Jo had deciphered what I was getting at, she looked genuinely pleased.

“Oh, ace! So Tegan finally realized what a decent bloke he was?”

Well, kind of. It was more that after I'd fled prom, Zac had spilled the beans about Mikey's prom-saving late-night secret sew fest. Guess he'd got bored of listening to me witter on about how amazing they'd be together. And that's what had made her finally see Mikey in the way we'd all done for ages. She'd just been waiting for the right time to tell us.

Jo put the remains of her chopping in the fridge and closed the door.

“So did you manage to do the speech like we practised?”

I nodded. She didn't need to know that I'd also told everyone about my mega-spot. Or done an accidental mucous bubble out of my left nostril when I panick-breathed too heavily.

NAMASTE
.

A man's voice boomed out Mum's favourite yoga greeting. It took me a second to figure out what was going on before remembering that she had reset our doorbell to it a few weeks ago to ‘encourage positive arrivals'. All it encouraged was me forgetting what it was and arriving too late at the door to actually answer it.

Mum's footsteps clunked towards it, so Jo and I carried on our chat.

“So, anyway.” I grabbed my camera out of my bag and plonked it on the counter. “I added something in. I came clean about the camera comp! And Mr Lutas was well imprrrrrrressed and said I should keep it for the summer and hand it over next term. Which is a TOTAL RESULT.”

“Bella!” Mum flung the kitchen door open. She was wearing the stripy kaftan that makes her look like a human packet of fruit pastilles.

“What?”

“There's someone at the door for you.”

“Er, who?” Not like her not to tell me.

“I don't know.” She lowered her voice. “But he's A BOY.”

‘He's' do tend to be.

Jo's eyebrows shot up.

“
Is it
Luke
?!?”

I had no idea. But today not even he could bring me down. I hopped out of the room, high-fiving Mum on my way out with a ‘namaste', not even bothering to check my reflection in the microwave to see if I had small flecks of jelly on my top lip (I did).

“Hey hey, namaste!” I sang happily at the door, flinging it open.

But it wasn't Luke standing there. What was standing there was a complete surprise in person form. And oh my holy moly, WHY WAS I WEARING PYJAMAS WITH TEDDY BEARS ON THEM? At three in the afternoon. On a Saturday.

“What are YOU doing here?!” I couldn't tell who was more embarrassed. Him or me? I DEFINITELY scooped the award for most embarrass
ing
.

For some reason, standing there, on my doorstep, totally unannounced, was MIAGTM. Football boy. Boy of my dreams. The man who, as his name suggested, I was going to marry. And there he was. Just standing there, with his mega smile, not flinching at my teddy bear attire. In his gorgeous baggy jeans, in his baggy undone hoodie. Looking entirely hot.

And I'd just sung in his face.

And he'd just met my mum.

As
my mouth gawped open, a small blob of jelly flopped on to my bottom lip. Was it too late to run back in and check for other morsels?

“Er . . . I guess I'm just standing here trying to say hello?” He looked like he might turn and leave at any second. Which he probably should do as I looked like I was mid-electric-shock. Although he also totally shouldn't do, as ideally I'd put him in a plant pot and keep him here for life. “Or even a namaste?”

Fact. Our doorstep has never encountered anything so hot. And that includes the time my mum threw a snood out that had gone up in flames after she'd tried to experiment with an ear candle. But why was he here? Was it another goalkeeper crisis? Or was he here to report my dog for crimes against groin-sniffing?

“How do you know where I house? Sorry, live?” Goodbye, ability to speak.

“I saw it on your dog's tag when we were chatting about colon?”

“COLON?”

I splurted the word so hard a jelly projectile hurtled towards MIAGTM and landed on a small tuft of hair just in front of his ear.

“Your football league? Hope that's OK. It sounds weird now I've said it outloud.”

Oh
my goodness. The jelly blob was still clinging on. Do not look at it whatever you do, Bella. He must not know!

“No, course, that's fine. Is that why you're ear?” ARGH. “Here? Colon?”

Quick, Bella
, speak more before he dwells on why I was thinking about his ear and reclassifies me as a gelatinous spurting pyjama blob. “Cos I don't play any more. We weren't going anywhere. In Colon. So we made a quick exit. I hung up my boobs.”

“Boobs?” He looked startled.

I spluttered. “BOOTS.”

This was a disaster. And I hadn't brushed my hair for seventeen hours. And I probably had a whole jelly on my head and didn't even know.

“Riiiight.” He stepped up a step, and lent on the doorframe. Oh My Crusted Cod. He was touching my house. That basically counted as
me
. Although, ARGH. I angled my body to try and hide the ABBA Benny cut-out. He/it could be the final straw.

“I'm actually around here loads cos I have my drum lessons round the corner.”

What the what?! MIAGTM loiters near me?! I bet I've only not seen him here because I've been out trying to get a glimpse of him elsewhere. Damn myself.

“
Drums?!”
Great
. Another unauthorized mouth outburst. Why wasn't Jo getting my telepathic vibes to come out and throw a sheet over me to stop this madness. “That's. . .” say something normal. Just be honest. “Fit.” NOT THAT HONEST. “. . . ting! FITTING. For a drummer. Like you.”

Of course
he drummed. He ONLY did fit things. It was only non-interesting people like me that had to do non-fit things like brush teeth or change pillowcases.

“Yeah. . . so I was hoping to see you around. . .”

I nodded dumbly like those nodding dogs people put on windscreens.
He'd been hoping to see ME?!
?! If my brain actually popped with dealing with this, would it ooze out of my ears, or would he just think it was more flying jelly?

“. . . cos I'd wanted to tell you something.”

“I'M IN MY PYJAMAS.”

For some reason I just stated the obvious. Loudly. In his face.

“Erm, yes. You are. But no, that's not it. The thing is. . . It's me.”

He was almost as baffling as me.

“What is?”

“LilDrummerBoy? The one that had been writing?”

Oh. My. Holy. Codballs. This was too much. HE
was
LilDrummerBoy? Reading my innermost thoughts on
PSSSST
? Laughing at my inability to be normal?! Being non-normal himself?! I was so speechless, I worried I'd forgotten all words. But then I realized I was thinking with words, so calmed down a bit.

MIAGTM looked super awkward.

“I thought you knew. You kept chatting back . . . but then you disappeared offline.” Disappeared?! More like deleted to save any shred of dignity. “I'd been wanting to talk to you about it, say a proper hello ever since that day we chatted about football. When you showed me the pics of you and your friend with Sellotape on your faces?”

FOR THE MENTAL RECORD, MIAGTM, I DIDN'T SHOW YOU, YOU ACCIDENTALLY SAW.

“That was not ME, it was just someone who looked like me. And someone who looked like my friend. Together. That both happened to be on my phone.”

He looked unconvinced.

“Err, well, either way, it was around then that you put that football story up on
PSSSST
and I realized it was you that I was following. Online! Not in real life or anything. You'd been in my feed ever since I'd signed up, when I was waiting for my drumming lesson to start. It'd recommended you cos you were nearby.” OK
WORLD
I GET THE MEMO. I REALLY AM THE ONLY PERSON WHO DIDN'T GET HOW
PSSSST
WORKS. “I thought you were dead funny.”