fight for this one if I have to. I corner her on her own in the bathroom before she goes to bed.
‘Mum, I was wondering… Tomorrow, is it OK if my friends Elyse and Melanie come over for a bit?’
‘The new girls you met up with at the concert? I don’t see why not. How about Shimmi and Nathalie?’ she says through a mouthful of toothpaste.
‘Nathalie’s gone away for half term, but I’ll see if Shim’s around. Thanks, Mum.’
I’d been working myself up so much about it, I kind of can’t believe it’s this easy.
‘Hey, I trust you not to burn the joint down, and I really do appreciate you keeping an eye on Daisy during the day this week.’
‘It’s cool; I don’t mind.’ I shrug. ‘If I can have friends over in the day, it’ll be really great.’
‘No problem. I’m just glad you seem a bit perkier since you had such a good birthday and met these girls.’
‘Yeah. They’re really cool.’
There is a pause as my mum looks at me intently.
‘We’ve been a bit worried about you, to be honest. You haven’t seemed very happy recently, so I’m pleased things are looking up.’
‘Yeah. I think they are. Don’t worry, Mum.’
Chapter Seven
Daisy and I are only lazing about the house, watching TV and eating snacks, but on Monday morning – despite the immense relief of not being at school – I find myself feeling a bit nervous. I’m wearing eyeliner, just in case, and checking my phone approximately every three seconds.
See, this is what a normal school holiday day is like round at my house – just me and Daisy, bickering over the computer, maybe walking into town later, maybe Shimmi or one of Daisy’s friends coming over. Try as I might, I simply cannot imagine how Elyse and Melanie will slot in.
At the gig, with a bottle of wine, it was different. Here, surely they’ll be bored out of their minds or else they’ll want to raid my mum’s drinks cabinet, invite boys over and smoke fags in the sitting room, while I quietly panic and my mum kills me. They might not even turn up. I texted my address to Elyse last night and haven’t heard from her since.
Then the doorbell rings and the book I was reading clatters to the floor.
‘God, what is
wrong
with you?’ Daisy mutters as she goes to answer it. ‘It’s only Shimmi.’
‘Yo, ladies,’ she announces herself, strolling in with a box of Krispy Kreme and a stack of DVDs.
‘You two are weird,’ says Daisy, grabbing a doughnut and disappearing upstairs.
It’s the first time Shimmi and I have seen each other since the gig, and we haven’t really had the chance to talk yet. We look at each other in excitement, about to explode with girly gossip and hysteria, but before we can open our mouths the doorbell rings again and they are here.
Elyse, Melanie and Shimmi come over every day for half term. We watch loads of films, listen to Trouble Every Day on repeat, eat junk food, walk into town to try on clothes and go to Nandos, read magazines, and chat about anything and everything. Even these ordinary activities have been elevated by having a cool gang around who, for the first time in my life, actually seem to ‘get’ me.
We have loads of stuff in common, especially Elyse and me. As well as Trouble Every Day, we basically like all the same music. Brand-new stuff that no one else I know has heard of, like Tied To The Mast, Terminal Gods and Jack Lucan; but we’re even into all the same weird old bands, from Sonic Youth to The Velvet Underground to Mudhoney and Bikini Kill. I don’t know anyone else my age in this town who has ever heard of a single one of these.
They don’t completely share my love of Nabokov and Murakami, but they are a million miles from most of the semi-literate girls in my class who only read
Heat
. Mel’s been looking through all of Pete’s art books, and Elyse found an old book I had on star signs and got really excited – she said she’s really into reading about astrology and all sorts of
‘Mum, I was wondering… Tomorrow, is it OK if my friends Elyse and Melanie come over for a bit?’
‘The new girls you met up with at the concert? I don’t see why not. How about Shimmi and Nathalie?’ she says through a mouthful of toothpaste.
‘Nathalie’s gone away for half term, but I’ll see if Shim’s around. Thanks, Mum.’
I’d been working myself up so much about it, I kind of can’t believe it’s this easy.
‘Hey, I trust you not to burn the joint down, and I really do appreciate you keeping an eye on Daisy during the day this week.’
‘It’s cool; I don’t mind.’ I shrug. ‘If I can have friends over in the day, it’ll be really great.’
‘No problem. I’m just glad you seem a bit perkier since you had such a good birthday and met these girls.’
‘Yeah. They’re really cool.’
There is a pause as my mum looks at me intently.
‘We’ve been a bit worried about you, to be honest. You haven’t seemed very happy recently, so I’m pleased things are looking up.’
‘Yeah. I think they are. Don’t worry, Mum.’
Chapter Seven
Daisy and I are only lazing about the house, watching TV and eating snacks, but on Monday morning – despite the immense relief of not being at school – I find myself feeling a bit nervous. I’m wearing eyeliner, just in case, and checking my phone approximately every three seconds.
See, this is what a normal school holiday day is like round at my house – just me and Daisy, bickering over the computer, maybe walking into town later, maybe Shimmi or one of Daisy’s friends coming over. Try as I might, I simply cannot imagine how Elyse and Melanie will slot in.
At the gig, with a bottle of wine, it was different. Here, surely they’ll be bored out of their minds or else they’ll want to raid my mum’s drinks cabinet, invite boys over and smoke fags in the sitting room, while I quietly panic and my mum kills me. They might not even turn up. I texted my address to Elyse last night and haven’t heard from her since.
Then the doorbell rings and the book I was reading clatters to the floor.
‘God, what is
wrong
with you?’ Daisy mutters as she goes to answer it. ‘It’s only Shimmi.’
‘Yo, ladies,’ she announces herself, strolling in with a box of Krispy Kreme and a stack of DVDs.
‘You two are weird,’ says Daisy, grabbing a doughnut and disappearing upstairs.
It’s the first time Shimmi and I have seen each other since the gig, and we haven’t really had the chance to talk yet. We look at each other in excitement, about to explode with girly gossip and hysteria, but before we can open our mouths the doorbell rings again and they are here.
Elyse, Melanie and Shimmi come over every day for half term. We watch loads of films, listen to Trouble Every Day on repeat, eat junk food, walk into town to try on clothes and go to Nandos, read magazines, and chat about anything and everything. Even these ordinary activities have been elevated by having a cool gang around who, for the first time in my life, actually seem to ‘get’ me.
We have loads of stuff in common, especially Elyse and me. As well as Trouble Every Day, we basically like all the same music. Brand-new stuff that no one else I know has heard of, like Tied To The Mast, Terminal Gods and Jack Lucan; but we’re even into all the same weird old bands, from Sonic Youth to The Velvet Underground to Mudhoney and Bikini Kill. I don’t know anyone else my age in this town who has ever heard of a single one of these.
They don’t completely share my love of Nabokov and Murakami, but they are a million miles from most of the semi-literate girls in my class who only read
Heat
. Mel’s been looking through all of Pete’s art books, and Elyse found an old book I had on star signs and got really excited – she said she’s really into reading about astrology and all sorts of
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