365 Days Page 2

  Tuesday 16 January

  Ryan is trying to set me up with his friend Ben. Ems told me today in morning break that Ryan thinks I’m ‘cute’ and that it’s a shame I don’t have a boyfriend, and that Ben is ‘cute’ too and on the lookout for a girlfriend and that Ryan thinks we’d be a match made in heaven and that he’s been trying to get my mobile number off Ems so that he can give it to Ben so that Ben can text me sometime.

  Why do people do this? Why? I’m not interested in having a sodding boyfriend! I’m quite happy as I am. I told Ems as much but I think she’s siding with Ryan ’cos she kept telling me how fit Ben was and that she could see us together and that I should at least send him a text to say hi ’cos it wouldn’t hurt just to do that. She stuffed a piece of paper into my hand with his mobile number written on it and said, ‘what do you think?’ and cocked her head to the side and gave me that pitying smile that she’s so good at. I smiled back and said I’d think about it. Yeah right! [/never-in-a-million-years/].

  Now, if she wanted to set me up with J…

  Wednesday 17 January

  Got home from school to find HRBH wrapped round Ade on the sofa. They looked like they’d just been doing something revolting so I made sure I checked the chair covers for any funny stains before I sat down. I can’t stand Ade. His eyes are too close together for my liking, he sniffs, like, all the time, and he calls me ‘weeny’ for some unknown reason, despite the fact he’s only four years older than me. Patronising bastard. I know HRBH’s only been going out with him for 3 weeks, but I really hope she’s not thinking anything long-term with him. The thought of another year or so of being called ‘weeny’ chills me to my very core; it sounds too much like wiener for my liking and I don’t want to be thinking about willies every time he speaks to me.

  Thursday 18 January

  We were sitting on the wall by the cemetery at lunchtime when Ryan and his mates came past. That Ben kid was with them. Ryan reckoned they were just passing but I think it was pre-arranged by Ems because I wouldn’t let her give him my mobile number and I haven’t bothered texting him yet, not even having so much as looked at the piece of paper with his number on it since Ems gave it to me. I took a good look at him anyway; he’s fairly nice-looking but has sticky-out ears and lots of zits. He’s quite tall too, with a mop of dark hair, which hangs over his eyes, but I didn’t care for the way he stood there picking at a ripe spot next to his nose. He had neat trainers on, but he didn’t say a word to me or make any kind of eye contact in the entire ten minutes it took for Ryan to arrange a date with Ems, and for his lanky streak-of-lightning sidekick Charlie to finish looking Caroline up and down.

  I suppose it really is time I got a boyfriend, after all I am nearly seventeen, and everyone else I know has a boyfriend. I don’t want people to talk. Perhaps if Ben asks me out, I’ll say yes. After all, how bad could it be to go on a date with a boy?

  He’ll have to actually talk to me first, though.

  Friday 19 January

  A text! It said: ‘Hey chk, howz bout u n me gttn 2getha sumtme???’ After spending a good three minutes or so cracking the code (I think he maybe has something against vowels) I guessed this was Ben asking me out, so Ems must have given him my number even though I sodding well asked her not to! I’m not sure it was necessary for such a large number of question marks either, but I gathered my thoughts, read the message through again, checked the piece of paper with Ben’s number on it to make sure it really was from him (it was) and sent one back that said ‘sure’. I, unlike many others my age, believe in such unimportant matters like proper spelling and grammar (this is what comes of having an English teacher for a mother—either that or I’m shockingly old-fashioned) and of the importance of short punchy messages. Besides, I couldn’t think what else to say to him.

  Within 20 seconds (is he keen or desperate?) a message came back saying: ‘Kool! Letz do 2moz @7 @ McDeez,’ which I roughly translated as ‘How splendid! Well then, let’s dine together at seven o’clock at a local branch of an American-style diner-cum-burger bar. What say you?’

  I suppose it’s too early in our burgeoning relationship to point out that, amongst other glaring mistakes in his two messages, cool is spelt with a c, not a k?

  Told Ems in afternoon break that I was meeting Ben tomorrow night and she squealed (rather too loudly, I thought) and said she’d lend me something to wear. [/insulted/]. I hadn’t actually thought about what to wear, but my North Face trousers have just been washed so they’ll be fine.

  Saturday 20 January

  Woke up and had a sinking feeling in my tummy because I remembered that I was meeting Ben later. I kinda wanted to just stay in and watch TV with Mum and Dad, but I supposed I ought to show willing.

  Got a text from Ems (spelling marginally better than Ben’s) wishing me luck and telling me to have a ‘brill time’. We’re only going to McDonald’s.

  Anyway, it’s now 6:30 p.m. so I suppose I better get myself ready. Will write up results of date tomorrow!!!

  Sunday 21 January

  Well, it went okay I suppose. For a first date, I mean. It hadn’t actually struck me that this was going to be my first proper date until I got into town and saw Ben standing under the big M sign, scuffing his foot along the ground, and picking at his zit (still). I had a momentary knot of fear in my tummy that was soon blown away when I was knocked sideways by a blast of cheap, acrid aftershave that hit me when I walked up to him. He looked nervous but did very well opening the door to McD’s for me, which was sweet of him, I suppose.

  It was kinda downhill from there, though. We ordered a burger and fries, each, and sat down, and that was about as interesting as the evening got, really. He wolfed his burger and fries down as if he’d never seen food before, barely said two words to me all night, then sat there with a globule of tomato ketchup in the corner of his mouth for the rest of the evening. I thought, bearing in mind he was in the company of a lady (me), he would have checked to make sure he had nothing round his mouth. But no! To add insult to injury, he asked me if he could finish the fries I hadn’t been able to manage, then lunged across the table and grabbed a handful of them before stuffing those back in the same piggish manner he’d eaten his own. He then hiccoughed loudly for the next ten minutes without so much as one ‘excuse me’ [/unimpressed/].

  Anyway, at about 10:30, I made up some excuse about having to get going home because my dad was picking me up and he was working nights (a great big lie) so Ben walked me down to the fountain in town where I’d agreed to meet Dad. We were walking down through town when Ben suddenly put his arm round my shoulders, so I let it stay there ’cos I didn’t want to appear rude. He slowed his steps down when we got nearer to the fountain, then stopped altogether, casting a shifty glance down the road (to make sure Dad wasn’t coming, I suppose). He started wiping his mouth with the back of his hand (the ketchup had gone by this point, thank God) then asked me if he could see me again. I said, ‘sure’ (why?????) and he seemed pleased. I said, ‘Right. Bye then,’ and he lunged at me with pursed lips!!!!! I jerked my head back, but not before I’d been engulfed by the taste of saliva, greasy burger, and stale Coke. Gross!!! Ben mumbled something inaudible, smiled weakly at me, then ambled off down the road. I took his mumble to be a good-bye and watched him disappear round the corner, face lit up by his just-flipped mobile phone.

  Then my phone beeped! It was him!! It said, ‘Soz wuz so quite wiv u. Wuz nurvus.’ Assumed he meant quiet, not quite. Started to write a message but didn’t know what to write, so stuffed my phone in my pocket just as Dad turned up in the car. Felt really depressed when I got home, I don’t know why. Thought I ought to reply to Ben’s text, but couldn’t be arsed and anyway, my phone was going crazy with people texting me! Ems, Caroline, Marcie, AND Alice all texted me asking me how I got on. You’d have thought I’d been to hospital for some life-saving operation, not on a date!

  I just replied to them all with a ‘Yeah, good’ text and switched off my phone.


  Woke up to, like, 101 texts this morning. The most interesting one from Ben, asking me if I wanted to go out with him again on Saturday!!! Is the boy a glutton for punishment??? To my own amazement, I replied with a yes. I have NO idea what I’m doing, or why I’m doing it. We’re meeting next Saturday in town.

  Monday 22 January

  Got my Stalin essay back today. Mr. Pritchard gave me a shit mark for it!! At the bottom of the page he’d written ‘are you familiar with the term plagiarism, Clemmie?’

  Must remember to look up what plague-whatsit means later. I’m thinking it means Mr. Pritchard wasn’t happy with my essay; maybe it wasn’t long enough (three-quarters of a page of A4). What more does he want? War and Peace??? [/sarcasm/].

  Got quizzed about Saturday night but I was really cool about it all. Ems said that Ryan told her that Ben told him that he’d had a really good time. I wonder if he was on the same date as I was? He also said Ben was dead chuffed that I’d agreed to go out with him again; Marcie squealed like a piglet when Ems told the assembled group this. Me? I just smiled sheepishly and blushed, wondering for the hundredth time why I’d agreed to see him again.

  Didn’t see J all day today :o( I miss her, even though I don’t even speak to her.

  Tuesday 23 January

  No sign of J all day again. Bit pissed off about that. English was rubbish! We’re reading Othello and it’s crap; we watched a movie of it made, like, about 100 years ago, with some ancient old actor playing Othello, and I thought he was dreadful! Really hammy! Mr. Harman told us we should feel privileged to watch ‘such a classic’ but all that ham on screen just made me think of bacon sandwiches and made my tummy rumble.

  Wednesday 24 January

  Had a good look at this Hannah girl today. She looks kinda funky; she has this jet-black hair and this well wicked belt with, like, studs all over it. I also noticed she was wearing a black sweatband on her right wrist, but she’d made sure it was well hidden under her shirt sleeve (Mrs. Russell is sooooooo strict on what she calls ‘accessories’).

  She had lots of band names written on her bag, bands I’d not really heard of, and which I’d never listened to (this is what comes of having Abba fans as your parents). Sometimes I wonder if I’m a bit uncool ’cos there’s lots of things I’ve never heard of, and things I’ve never done. If I ever get a chance to talk to Hannah, I’ll ask her about them, although I’ll have to get in line to speak to her—she seems very popular with a lot of the others in my class.

  Text from Ben: ‘cnt w8 2cu again’. I didn’t know what to write, so just put ‘See you Saturday.’ I hope he can read non-text speak!

  Thursday 25 January

  We were all sitting round at lunchtime today talking about boys. I hate it when that happens ’cos it makes me feel soooooooo uncomfortable. We were talking about Monday night’s Prison Break and Caroline said how much she fancied Michael Scofield and everyone else agreed. I didn’t want to look the odd one out so I agreed as well, but I noticed Alice didn’t say anything, so he’s obviously not her sort. Then we got talking about our ideal men (groan), and what we look for in a man (groan again); Ems said her ideal man was, of course, Ryan and Marcie said she fancied Jason, Ryan’s best mate, but said if he wasn’t interested in her, then she’d have to stick with Jake Gyllenhaal, who she’s fancied for, like, aaaaaaaages and didn’t even stop fancying him when he played that gay cowboy (she said he looked cute in chaps).

  Marcie said she also fancied Ben but that she wouldn’t go after him ’cos she knew that we were an item now (huh?!). I smiled, picked at a loose thread on my jumper, and said nothing more on the matter, which I think they all took to be coyness ’cos then they all started saying stupid stuff like ‘Clem and Ben sitting in a tree’ and all that.

  I really hate it when we have these conversations ’cos I have nothing to say, and have to make stuff up ’cos I don’t want them to guess. So I agree with what they all say, telling them I like this actor or that actor and, I dunno, it just feels like some sort of act I have to put on—almost a betrayal. I can’t explain it.

  Friday 26 January

  What a day!! I was walking down the corridor, on my way to double French (ugh!) when I bumped into……J!! We tried to pass each other, but you know how it is when you go one way, and the person trying to get past you goes that way too? Then you try to go the other way and the person also goes that way? J said, ‘shall we dance?’ and I just giggled. God how I wish I’d had the courage to actually talk to her but I was late enough for French as it was, so I just laughed (rather too loudly probably) and scurried off down the corridor like some frumpy housewife bustling off to the shops.

  But!! It got better!! I saw her again later in the day and she said to me ‘will you dance with me now?’ and I said (off the top of me head, like), ‘I’ll show you my foxtrot if you show me yours,’ and she laughed!!!!!!!!! I must have gone red ’cos she said, ‘you’re blushing—how cute’ (!!!!!!!!!) Then Ems turned up so I had to look all nonchalant-like, in case she guessed. I walked down the corridor with Ems, but turned and looked back behind me, only to see J still standing there! When she saw me looking she smiled!!!!!!!!! Am on cloud nine!!!

  When I got home I went straight up to my room to think about what had happened today. Why do I get this feeling in my tummy when I see her? It’s like a thousand butterflies and I like it. I really like her and I want to get to know her more.

  Why does it have to be Friday?? I’m going to have to wait a whole two days till I see her again.

  Saturday 27 January

  Went to bed thinking about J and woke up thinking about her! Aaaaargh! What is going on with me? Do I fancy her or what? I just dunno. I’ve never fancied anyone before, so I don’t know how it’s supposed to feel! I used to like Peter Scott when I was in junior school but I don’t think I fancied him; I think I just liked him ’cos I thought he had funky hair and we both liked bananas. So I don’t know what it is I’m feeling. Soooooooo confusing!

  One thing’s for sure—I don’t feel like this about Ben! We went on our second date tonight and he got right on my twit. I wanted to come home after ten minutes, but didn’t want to be obvious so sat with him in the park in the freezing cold while he drank a can of cheap beer which he kept offering me, and which I kept politely refusing. He had his arm round me and it felt alien; I wanted to tell him where to put his arm (not round my bloody shoulder!) but instead just sat there like an idiot, wishing I was at home watching TV with Mum and Dad.

  At least he talked a bit more tonight. He told me about his family and how he played football for his dad’s pub team on a Sunday and other stuff about school and things. I tried to sound interested but the truth was I was so bloody cold that all I could think about was going home.

  We kissed again and it was slightly better than last time but I can’t honestly say I particularly enjoyed it. It was a bit too wet for my liking; all I could taste was stale beer, and the little bit of bum-fluff that’s struggling to grow on his face scratched at my cheek. I remember thinking that I should be feeling…I dunno…something. But I felt nothing. Not even a glimmer. Maybe I’m frigid??

  Sunday 28 January

  Dad asked us at lunchtime today where we’d like to go for our summer holiday this year. I said Paris (Gemma Davies went to Disneyland Paris last year and said it was sooooo cool), HRBH said Italy ’cos she wanted to practise her Italian (saddo) and Mum said Cornwall (!!!!!!!!) Err hello?? France v. Cornwall? No contest! Dad said he’d take our views into consideration and get some brochures, which basically means we’ll end up going to Cornwall ’cos:

  a. That’s what Mum wants (he’s sooooooo under her thumb!!!)

  b. It’s cheaper.

  So looks like we’re off to the land of the pixies in August. Hoo-bloody-rah.

  Monday 29 January

  We have a new Science teacher—I think he’s a trainee. His name’s Mr. Troutt (!!!!!!!!!) He looked very nervous today; he wears this cheap-looking signet ring on his
middle finger and he kept fiddling with it, turning it round and round in an agitated manner. I also noticed he had a sweaty top lip. He kept forgetting our names and got very twitchy. The more agitated he got, the sweatier his top lip became, and the more he twiddled with his signet ring. I can’t see him staying long.

  Tuesday 30 January

  Hannah has joined our little ‘gang’. She does Philosophy with Ems and they’ve become friends, so now Hannah’s our friend too.

  Apparently Hannah’s an atheist. Ems says she gives Miss Valentine, the Philosophy teacher, such a hard time in class, questioning everything. Miss Valentine’s a bit fed up with her, so Ems says. I like the idea of someone questioning everything in class. I think Hannah sounds cool!

  We asked her about being a Goth. She said she wasn’t a Goth, but something called an EMO: we asked her what the difference was, and she said EMOs were more emotional than Goths. Apparently, even though EMOs are a kind of Goth, and they’re all obsessed with death and everything, they are actually allowed to smile occasionally (or so Hannah reckons anyway).