anything else.
‘No!’ cried Rachel. ‘And I don’t want to talk to anyone.’
‘Oh,’ I said. I wasn’t exactly surprised. ‘Okay. Well, um … I’m sorry. About … whatever happened.’
I paused for a second in case she changed her mind and decided she wanted to see me, but she didn’t say anything. A second later, she put some sad-sounding music on, so I gave up and came back here. I want to go downstairs and watch telly – there’s a good film on tonight – but I feel a bit guilty enjoying myself with my big sister sobbing away upstairs. There’s not really anything I can do, though, is there? I feelreally rotten. Stupid Tom. So much for him being the perfect boyfriend. I think I might hate him now.
Is it really wrong that I feel a bit relieved that the whole drum situation was sorted out before this happened? If Tom had broken up with Rachel before then, it would still all be hanging over me. Not that my drumming is as important as Rachel being broken-hearted. But still.
Oh, it is wrong to feel relieved about any aspect of this. I feel bad for even writing that earlier. Poor Rachel. I can still hear her crying. I hate Tom. I actually do hate him. If he turned up at the house right now, I would hit him, even though that is against all my principles. Well, I wouldn’t actually hit him, but I would really want to. How dare he make her feel like this? Horrible smug goon with his stupid perfect presents.
It’s half twelve in the afternoon and there’s been no sign of Rachel. I don’t think she’s even been out to go to the loo, which is a bit worrying. At least, I haven’t heard her. Mum says she’ll be fine and not to hassle her and that Rachel will come out of her room in her own time, but I heard her sneak upstairs earlier and try to persuade Rachel to come out and have some breakfast. It didn’t work though.
Surely hunger will drive her out eventually. When the first really embarrassing picture of me was in the paper last year I refused to come out of my room for ages too. Mum ended up leaving scrambled eggs outside my door in the morning, but that could only keep me going for so long so I eventually ended up having to go downstairs and scavenge for food (actually, I think I just made more scrambled eggs. They’re the only things I can cook properly).
Rachel is definitely awake, though, because I heard her talking on the phone earlier. I couldn’t hear what she was saying (not that I was eavesdropping or anything), but she sounded upset. I tried knocking on the door again after she got off the phone, but she just yelled at me to go away.
‘Come on, Rach,’ I said. ‘You can talk to me about it. If you want.’
‘I don’t want to talk to anyone in this house,’ she said, and she just put some more loud, sad music on. So I had to give up. I just yelled, ‘Well, if you change your mind, you know where I am’ over the music and left.
It all feels very wrong. Usually I’m the one being all angsty in my room and she’s the one being irritatingly sensible. In theory it should be good to have the tables turned, but it actually just makes me feel sad and weird.
She finally came out of her room. I actually got a shock when I saw her. She looked awful. I don’t mean it in a nasty way. She just looked like she had been really sick. She was very pale and her eyes were all red and sore and her nose was a bit red too. I was in my room when I heard her come out, so I opened my door and peeked out.
‘Hey,’ I said.
She looked at me and sighed.
‘Hey,’ she said.
‘Are you …’ I began, and then stopped. ‘I know you’re not okay. Sorry. Tom’s a stupid dickhead anyway.’
And I meant it, but I wish I hadn’t said anything about Tom, mean or otherwise, because as soon as she heard his name Rachel’s face sort of crumpled up and she started to cry. I didn’t know what to do because we are not very huggy sort of sisters usually, but I couldn’t bear to just stand there
‘No!’ cried Rachel. ‘And I don’t want to talk to anyone.’
‘Oh,’ I said. I wasn’t exactly surprised. ‘Okay. Well, um … I’m sorry. About … whatever happened.’
I paused for a second in case she changed her mind and decided she wanted to see me, but she didn’t say anything. A second later, she put some sad-sounding music on, so I gave up and came back here. I want to go downstairs and watch telly – there’s a good film on tonight – but I feel a bit guilty enjoying myself with my big sister sobbing away upstairs. There’s not really anything I can do, though, is there? I feelreally rotten. Stupid Tom. So much for him being the perfect boyfriend. I think I might hate him now.
Is it really wrong that I feel a bit relieved that the whole drum situation was sorted out before this happened? If Tom had broken up with Rachel before then, it would still all be hanging over me. Not that my drumming is as important as Rachel being broken-hearted. But still.
Oh, it is wrong to feel relieved about any aspect of this. I feel bad for even writing that earlier. Poor Rachel. I can still hear her crying. I hate Tom. I actually do hate him. If he turned up at the house right now, I would hit him, even though that is against all my principles. Well, I wouldn’t actually hit him, but I would really want to. How dare he make her feel like this? Horrible smug goon with his stupid perfect presents.
It’s half twelve in the afternoon and there’s been no sign of Rachel. I don’t think she’s even been out to go to the loo, which is a bit worrying. At least, I haven’t heard her. Mum says she’ll be fine and not to hassle her and that Rachel will come out of her room in her own time, but I heard her sneak upstairs earlier and try to persuade Rachel to come out and have some breakfast. It didn’t work though.
Surely hunger will drive her out eventually. When the first really embarrassing picture of me was in the paper last year I refused to come out of my room for ages too. Mum ended up leaving scrambled eggs outside my door in the morning, but that could only keep me going for so long so I eventually ended up having to go downstairs and scavenge for food (actually, I think I just made more scrambled eggs. They’re the only things I can cook properly).
Rachel is definitely awake, though, because I heard her talking on the phone earlier. I couldn’t hear what she was saying (not that I was eavesdropping or anything), but she sounded upset. I tried knocking on the door again after she got off the phone, but she just yelled at me to go away.
‘Come on, Rach,’ I said. ‘You can talk to me about it. If you want.’
‘I don’t want to talk to anyone in this house,’ she said, and she just put some more loud, sad music on. So I had to give up. I just yelled, ‘Well, if you change your mind, you know where I am’ over the music and left.
It all feels very wrong. Usually I’m the one being all angsty in my room and she’s the one being irritatingly sensible. In theory it should be good to have the tables turned, but it actually just makes me feel sad and weird.
She finally came out of her room. I actually got a shock when I saw her. She looked awful. I don’t mean it in a nasty way. She just looked like she had been really sick. She was very pale and her eyes were all red and sore and her nose was a bit red too. I was in my room when I heard her come out, so I opened my door and peeked out.
‘Hey,’ I said.
She looked at me and sighed.
‘Hey,’ she said.
‘Are you …’ I began, and then stopped. ‘I know you’re not okay. Sorry. Tom’s a stupid dickhead anyway.’
And I meant it, but I wish I hadn’t said anything about Tom, mean or otherwise, because as soon as she heard his name Rachel’s face sort of crumpled up and she started to cry. I didn’t know what to do because we are not very huggy sort of sisters usually, but I couldn’t bear to just stand there
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