too. Why didn’t you assume that she’d be with him?’
‘Because she makes sure she never misses out on seeing us,’ said Brook. ‘It’s different with you and Joe. You spend all your spare time with him now.’
‘Do I?’
‘Yes.’
I hadn’t noticed. I hadn’t had a lot of spare time because of trying to catch up with work so I hadn’t realised that I had been neglecting my mates, but when I cast my mind
back over the last few weeks, I realised that Brook was right. Outside school, I hadn’t seen them once.
‘God, Brook, you’re right. I am sorry. Tell Leela and Zahrah too.’
‘Couple bubble, just like Leela said.‘You’ve gone into a couple bubble.’
‘Noooo. I have gone into a studying bubble. Oh God. And you’ve been talking about me! Will you still be my friends?’
Brook laughed. ‘Hold on, I will ask the others.’ The phone went quiet for a few moments then she came back on.‘Course, dingbat brain. Friends for ever.’
‘Phew,’ I said.‘Because no boy is worth losing friends over.’
‘Exactly,’ said Brook.
After she’d hung up, I sat and looked out of the window for a while. Being in a relationship really wasn’t easy. First of all, learning that a boy comes with friends I might not get
on with, like Sam. Second, learning to put myself in Joe’s shoes. Third, learning not to neglect my mates and keep the balance. Work, love. None of it was a breeze.
‘India, you have a visitor,’ I heard Mum call up the stairs.
‘Who is it?’ I called back.
‘It’s me,’ said Joe’s voice. ‘I’m coming up.’
‘No, I’ll come down,’ I called.
Ohmigod , I thought. I look a state . I scrabbled to try and brush my hair and put lip-gloss on at the same time, but too late. Joe was at the door. He burst in and fell to his
knees. ‘Sorry, sorry, I have been such a prat.’
I laughed.‘OK, you can get up now.’
‘No, no, must grovel at your feet,’ he said and he grabbed my ankles and somehow wrestled me to the ground where he put his arms around me and kissed me. I hoped that Mum or Dad
didn’t walk in and catch us, because I didn’t think they’d be too happy to find us locked on to each other on the floor. As we kissed, a song flashed through my head; I
couldn’t remember the exact words but they were something, like, ‘ The best part of breaking up is when you’re making up .’ So true , I thought because Joe was
being really passionate and so was I – our best kissing session so far. However, I mentally added another point to my list of things that were hard about being in a long-term relationship:
boyfriend seeing me at my worst when I have a spot on my nose, no concealer, am in my trackie bottoms and my hair needs washing. Luckily, Joe hadn’t seemed to notice.
‘Here we are,’ said Dad, as he drew up outside a row of terraced houses in Queen’s Park. ‘Number seventy-two. Our new home.’
I got out of the car, glanced up at the house and my heart sank. It was horrible. There was a black wrought-iron gate falling off its hinges, a small front garden full of dead weeds and rubbish,
a mouldy-looking old chair in the corner with its stuffing falling out and the doors and windows looked like they needed a good clean and lick of paint.
‘Are you serious?’ asked Dylan, as he and Mum joined Dad and me at the gate. ‘This place is a dump.’
I burst out laughing.‘Don’t hold back, Dylan.’
‘I won’t.’ He looked well fed up.
Dad pulled keys out, went and opened the front door then ran back to the gate, gathered Mum up into his arms and carried her over the threshold like she was a new bride. Dylan rolled his eyes as
a couple of Indian ladies in saris walked past, stared at them and giggled to each other.
Inside, Dad gave us what he called the ‘grand tour’. It wasn’t grand at all. The hallway was narrow and smelled musty; in fact, all the rooms had a damp feeling. Upstairs were
four bedrooms, three on the first floor, one of
‘Because she makes sure she never misses out on seeing us,’ said Brook. ‘It’s different with you and Joe. You spend all your spare time with him now.’
‘Do I?’
‘Yes.’
I hadn’t noticed. I hadn’t had a lot of spare time because of trying to catch up with work so I hadn’t realised that I had been neglecting my mates, but when I cast my mind
back over the last few weeks, I realised that Brook was right. Outside school, I hadn’t seen them once.
‘God, Brook, you’re right. I am sorry. Tell Leela and Zahrah too.’
‘Couple bubble, just like Leela said.‘You’ve gone into a couple bubble.’
‘Noooo. I have gone into a studying bubble. Oh God. And you’ve been talking about me! Will you still be my friends?’
Brook laughed. ‘Hold on, I will ask the others.’ The phone went quiet for a few moments then she came back on.‘Course, dingbat brain. Friends for ever.’
‘Phew,’ I said.‘Because no boy is worth losing friends over.’
‘Exactly,’ said Brook.
After she’d hung up, I sat and looked out of the window for a while. Being in a relationship really wasn’t easy. First of all, learning that a boy comes with friends I might not get
on with, like Sam. Second, learning to put myself in Joe’s shoes. Third, learning not to neglect my mates and keep the balance. Work, love. None of it was a breeze.
‘India, you have a visitor,’ I heard Mum call up the stairs.
‘Who is it?’ I called back.
‘It’s me,’ said Joe’s voice. ‘I’m coming up.’
‘No, I’ll come down,’ I called.
Ohmigod , I thought. I look a state . I scrabbled to try and brush my hair and put lip-gloss on at the same time, but too late. Joe was at the door. He burst in and fell to his
knees. ‘Sorry, sorry, I have been such a prat.’
I laughed.‘OK, you can get up now.’
‘No, no, must grovel at your feet,’ he said and he grabbed my ankles and somehow wrestled me to the ground where he put his arms around me and kissed me. I hoped that Mum or Dad
didn’t walk in and catch us, because I didn’t think they’d be too happy to find us locked on to each other on the floor. As we kissed, a song flashed through my head; I
couldn’t remember the exact words but they were something, like, ‘ The best part of breaking up is when you’re making up .’ So true , I thought because Joe was
being really passionate and so was I – our best kissing session so far. However, I mentally added another point to my list of things that were hard about being in a long-term relationship:
boyfriend seeing me at my worst when I have a spot on my nose, no concealer, am in my trackie bottoms and my hair needs washing. Luckily, Joe hadn’t seemed to notice.
‘Here we are,’ said Dad, as he drew up outside a row of terraced houses in Queen’s Park. ‘Number seventy-two. Our new home.’
I got out of the car, glanced up at the house and my heart sank. It was horrible. There was a black wrought-iron gate falling off its hinges, a small front garden full of dead weeds and rubbish,
a mouldy-looking old chair in the corner with its stuffing falling out and the doors and windows looked like they needed a good clean and lick of paint.
‘Are you serious?’ asked Dylan, as he and Mum joined Dad and me at the gate. ‘This place is a dump.’
I burst out laughing.‘Don’t hold back, Dylan.’
‘I won’t.’ He looked well fed up.
Dad pulled keys out, went and opened the front door then ran back to the gate, gathered Mum up into his arms and carried her over the threshold like she was a new bride. Dylan rolled his eyes as
a couple of Indian ladies in saris walked past, stared at them and giggled to each other.
Inside, Dad gave us what he called the ‘grand tour’. It wasn’t grand at all. The hallway was narrow and smelled musty; in fact, all the rooms had a damp feeling. Upstairs were
four bedrooms, three on the first floor, one of
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