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Authors: Jean Ure

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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, “They 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.

Tuesday

Didn’t get much sleep last night. We had been in bed for about an hour, and Tash was happily snoring (which she said she wasn’t, but how would she know?) when I heard this strange sound, like a sort of … swishing. Slithering. I opened my eyes to see a white shape
moving across the room, dragging something behind it. I said, “
Ali?”

BOOK: Boys Beware
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