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

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СКАЧАТЬ to see him kissing her? I said to Jas, “Maybe we should go now.”

      And Jas said, “What, after all this? No way. I want to see what happens next.”

      7:50 p.m.

      Outside the Odeon Robbie was waiting. My heart went all wobbly, he looked so cool. Why wasn’t he mine? Lindsay went up to him. The moment of truth. I wanted to yell out, “She has bits of pink rubber down her bra... and she wears a thong!!!”

      I held my breath and Jas’s hand. She whispered, “Get off, you lezzer.” Then... Lindsay put her face forward and Robbie kissed her.

      8:00 p.m.

      Walking home, eating more chips, I said, “What sort of kiss do you think it was? Was there actual lip contact? Or was it lip to cheek, or lip to corner of mouth?”

      “I think it was lip to corner of mouth, but maybe it was lip to cheek?”

      “It wasn’t full-frontal snogging though, was it?”

      “No.”

      “I think she went for full-frontal and he converted it into lip to corner of mouth.”

      “Yes.”

      “He didn’t seem keen though, did he?”

      “No.”

      “Didn’t you think so either?”

      “No.”

      “No, neither did I.”

      Outside Jas’s gate

       8:40 p.m.

      I said, “The facts are a) she doesn’t wear her ring when she is out with him, so that makes it clear that she says they are engaged but they are not, and b) he doesn’t really rate her because he didn’t do full-frontal with her.”

      Jas undid her gate. “Yes. Right, see you tomorrow. Don’t forget to fix the sleepover.”

      Midnight

      So... the plot thickens. All I have to do is get rid of Lindsay, convince Robbie I am the woman of his dreams, stop Mum splitting up the home, grow bigger breasts and have plastic surgery on my nose and I have cracked it...

      Thursday April 29th

      6:30 p.m.

      Phone rang and I answered it. A strange voice said, “G’day, is that Georgie?” I was a bit formal – it might be a dirty phone call. (I had had one of those from a phone box in Glasgow. This bloke with a Scottish accent kept saying, “What colour pa—?” and then the pips would go and I’d say, “I’m sorry, what did you say?” and then he’d start again. “What colour panties...?” pip pip pip. Eventually he managed to say, “What colour panties have you got on?” and then the line went dead. So you can’t be too careful.)

      This strange, echoey voice said, “It’s your dad, I’m calling from Whangamata.”

      I was a bit surprised and I said, “Oh-er-hello-Dad.”

      He was all enthusiastic and keen. “How’s school?”

      “Oh, you know... school.”

      “Is everyone all right?”

      “Yes. Angus got next door’s guinea pig.”

      “Did he give it back?”

      “He did when I hit him with my tennis racquet.”

      “And Libby?”

      “She can say ‘tosser’ now.”

      “Who the hell taught her that?”

      “I don’t know.”

      “Well, you should take better care of her.”

      “She’s not my bloody daughter.”

      “Don’t swear at me.”

      “I only said bloody.”

      “That’s swear— look, look, get your mum on the phone, this is costing me one pound a minute.”

      “She’s not here.”

      “Where is she?”

      “Oh, I don’t know, she’s always out.”

      “Well, tell her I called.”

      “OK.”

      There was a bit of silence then. His voice sounded even weirder when he spoke again. “I wish you were all here, I miss you.”

      I just went, “Hmmmpgh.”

      I wish parents wouldn’t do that, you know, make you feel like crying and hitting them at the same time.

      

      Tuesday May 4th

      8:10 a.m.

      Felt a bit sort of down in the dumps when I woke up. I’d had a dream that my dad had grown a Rolf Harris beard but it wasn’t a beard really, it was Angus clinging to his chin.

      Assembly. Maths. Physics... there is not one part of today that is worth being alive for.

      4:30 p.m.

      Home, exhausted from laughing. My ribs hurt. Slim has made me be on cloakroom duty for the next term but I don’t care, it was worth it.

      Well... here is what happened. It was during double physics and it was just one of those afternoons when you can’t stop laughing and you feel a bit hysterical. For most of the lesson I had been yelling, “Jawohl, Herr Kommandant!” and clicking my heels together every time Herr Kamyer asked if we understood what he had been explaining. We were doing the molecular structure of atoms and how they vibrate.

      Herr Kamyer was illustrating his point with the aid of some billiard balls on a tea towel on his desk. It was giving me the giggles anyway, and then I put my hand up because I had thought of a good joke. I put my hand up with the finger pointing forward, like in “Who ate all the pies?” and when Herr Kamyer said, “Yes?” I said, “Herr Kamyer, what part does the tea towel play in the molecular structure?”

      That is when Herr Kamyer made his fateful mistake – he said, “Ach, no, I merely use the tea towel to keep my balls still.” It was pandemonium. I could not stop laughing. You know when you really, really should stop laughing because you will get into dreadful trouble if you don’t? But you still can’t stop? Well, I had that. I had to be practically carried to Slim’s office. Outside her office I did my best to get a grip and I thought I had just about stopped and was under СКАЧАТЬ