The Complete Fab Confessions of Georgia Nicolson: Books 1-10. Louise Rennison

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      Then I saw Peter Dyer. I waved at him and he came over. He had been talking to Katie Steadman and she seemed a bit miffed when he came over to me. Peter said, “Hi!” and I said, “Hi... er... thanks for the other day. It was really... er... great. I learned a lot. Thanks.”

      He looked at me sideways and stood quite close. “There was something I didn’t have time to show you, come with me.” And he took hold of my hand and led me out of the room. We hadn’t done hand-holding but I improvised... not too floppy but not too gripping. I don’t think anyone besides Katie saw us go, they were too busy dancing stupidly to a Slade record.

      We went outside into the garden and went behind a big tree just by the path. Peter started kissing me (he didn’t seem to be a big talker).

      There was a lot more tongue business. It was all right but it was making my jaw ache a bit. Peter seemed to like it quite a lot more than I did because he sort of moaned and pushed me against the tree. Then Peter started nuzzling my neck and I thought, Oh, we haven’t done necks before, he’s branching out a bit, and then I nearly choked to death trying not to laugh (up against a tree... branching out, do you get it?)... but I stopped myself. You have to keep reminding yourself about boys not liking a laugh. Then I heard a car door slam and people crunching up the drive towards us.

      I stepped backwards but Peter was still attached to my neck. I tripped over a root and fell on to my bottom. Peter lost his balance and fell over on top of me and made us both go “Ooofff!”. From upside down I found myself looking up at a tall blonde girl I recognised from the sixth form and, next to her... SG. He was all in black and looked really annoyed.

      He said all tight-lipped, “Don’t you think it’s about time you two went inside to the party?” I remembered the blonde’s name, it was Lindsay, a notorious wet. She was looking at my legs. Probably envying them. I looked down, and noticed that my skirt had all ridden up and you could see my knickers. I wriggled it down in a “dignity at all times” sort of way, but she still smirked.

      Peter said quite calmly, “Hi, Robbie, I thought you had a gig tonight.”

      Robbie said, “I have, but Tom forgot his key so I’m just dropping it off for him.”

      He didn’t even glance at me or say goodbye or anything.

      Midnight

      I bloody hate him, big, full-of-himself type thing. Bugger bugger, double ordure and merde. What business is it of his what I do behind trees?

      Tuesday October 6th

      3:00 p.m.

      Peter phoned me over the weekend. I don’t know how he got the number because I just left in a hurry from the party. Gemma must have given it to him. Dad answered the phone, which is the end of life as we know it because HE WILL NOT LET IT LIE. He thinks it is funny and calls Peter “Your fancy man.”

      Peter wanted to know if I would go to the pictures next week. I said that would be great. So it looks like I have sort of got a boyfriend. Why do I feel so depressed then?

      Jas is unbearable since the party. She sent me notes all through Maths.

      Dear Gee-gee,

      Tom is sooooo cool. He walked me home and then, when we got to the door, he gave me a really nice kiss on the cheek. His lips are really soft and he smells nice, not like my brother. He asked for my phone number – do you think he will call? What day do you think he will call?

      It’s Monday today and I saw him on Friday so that is three days already. I’d call tonight if I was him, wouldn’t you? Should I say yes to any day he says for a date? Or if he says Friday should I say, “Oh, sorry, I’m busy that night, and then when he says “ What about Saturday?” I can say “Oh, yeah, Saturday would be cool.” What do you think? Or do you think he might think I’m putting him of f if I say I’m busy on Friday, so I should say yes to any day he says? Please reply quickly.

      TTFN.

      I’ve given her my worst look but she keeps sending things. I am not interested in any of the prat family Jennings.

      4:00 p.m.

      Sadly it makes no difference to Jas whether I am interested or not. All the way home she was telling me what Tom said or did. The more I hear about him the less I think Jas should have to do with him. All right, maybe I am being unfair and bitter, but she is my best friend and should do everything I say...

      Tom wants to go into the fruit and veg business. Oh, how fascinating... Jas thinks it is.

      “I think it’s great that he’s young but he knows where he is going.”

      I said brightly, “Yes, you’d never be short of potatoes.”

      Eventually even Jas noticed that I wasn’t so keen. She looked a bit confused and said, “I thought you liked him.”

      I didn’t say anything. All I could think of was his brother looking down at me and sort of sneering. Jas went on, “Don’t you think I should go out with him?”

      I still didn’t say anything.

      She said it again. “So you don’t think I should go out with him?”

      I was all enigmatic, which is not easy in a beret.

      11:30 p.m.

      I am a facsimile of a sham of a fax of a person. And I have a date with a professional snogger.

      Midnight

      Angus has eaten some of Mum’s knickers. She says he’ll have to go. Why can’t she go, and Dad go? Or am I being unreasonable?

      Thursday October 15th

      Noon

      Slim has put a ban on levitation. She made an announcement in assembly this morning. She was all shaky and jelly-like, her jowls were bouncing around like anything. Anyway, she said, “This school is like the back streets of Haiti. It must stop forthwith. Any girl found practising levitation will face the gravest consequences. I, for one, would not like to be in that girl’s shoes.”

      I whispered to Ellen, “She wouldn’t get in any girl’s shoes. How much do you think each leg weighs? Imagine the size of her knickers... you could probably get two duvets out of them.”

      Then we got the eagle eye from Hawkeye for giggling.

      2:00 p.m.

      I feel like killing something. If I was that sort of person I’d scare a first former, as it is I will have to content myself with hiding Nauseating P. Green’s pencil case.

      3:00 p.m.

      On my way to the science block I saw Lindsay. How wet can you be? She really is Mrs Wet. She has the wettest haircut known to humanity – all curled under at the bottom. I saw her legs in hockey and they are really spindly. Little spindly legs like she has been in a wheelchair and not been walking for years, and also when she is concentrating she wears big goggly glasses like Deirdre Barlow. I bet she keeps those well hidden when she goes out with Pratboy. Oh, hell’s teeth, it’s my СКАЧАТЬ