that seriousness, though. And then we realised it was nearly two in the morning, and we were both kind of knackered, so we went to bed.
‘I feel quite exhausted after all that soul-bearing,’ said Cass, through a giant yawn.
‘So do I,’ I said. ‘I’m glad you told me, though.’
‘Me too,’ said Cass. ‘Night night.’
At first I thought I would lie there pondering Cass’s announcement. But actually, I fell asleep straight away. Cass is right, those sort of conversations are very tiring. Anyway, I didn’t get to sleep very long because the noise my dad makes banging around the house in the morning would wake anyoneup. Why he makes so much noise just getting ready to go and correct some exams is beyond me. It’s not like he’s, like, a carpenter and has to gather together lots of noisy spanners and hammers and stuff. Anyway, he woke us both up by slamming the bathroom door by accident, which happens almost every morning, and we sat up and looked at each other. Well, we sort of looked at each other; Cass can’t focus very well without her glasses.
‘Did you tell me you were gay last night or was that just a magical dream?’ I said.
‘It wasn’t a magical dream,’ said Cass, putting on her glasses. There was a slightly awkward pause. ‘Um, you’re still okay about it all, aren’t you?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘I have turned into a lesbian-hater overnight. I’m joking! Sorry! That wasn’t very funny. I am definitely still okay about it.’
‘Good,’ said Cass. ‘Can we talk about other stuff now? Even I am getting slightly bored talking about myself.’
‘We could talk about our sweet-making plans,’ I said.
‘Ooh, yes,’ said Cass. ‘Do you think your mum would let us try again?’
She said we could try again, but there was no condensedmilk or indeed sugar left so we’d have to go out and buy some. So we did, after breakfast, and then we went back to my house and made some more fudge. I think we are really getting the hang of it − it was much better than the last batch. Even Rachel grudgingly admitted that it wasn’t bad, which is a lot coming from her. So by the time Cass had to go home (with an old plastic takeaway box filled with half of the batch of fudge), we were feeling very pleased with ourselves. When I walked her out to the door it felt a bit formal for a second.
‘Well,’ I said, ‘um, thanks for telling me. You know, last night.’
‘Oh, yeah,’ said Cass. ‘Um, thanks for … listening?’
And then we started laughing, and everything was normal again. And then she went home. And now I am writing this. Although I’d better stop, I can hear my dad calling me. He probably wants to me to do the hoovering or some other servant -like duty.
I have just realised something. Now Alice is going out with Richard and Cass is going out with Liz, I am the only oneof the three of us who isn’t going out with anyone! I know I shouldn’t feel bad about this, but I sort of do. It’s not that I feel I really need a boyfriend, but I’m starting to wonder if I will ever find love again. Maybe I will meet someone at the rock camp, although the last time I met a boy while doing some sort of creative activity it was John Kowalski, and look how that turned out. Perhaps I will just be on my own for the rest of my life. That makes me feel a bit crap.
I have written a poem about my loveless state:
All of my best friends
Have got boyfriends or girlfriends
Frankly it’s not fair.
I have a feeling this poem makes me look a bit selfish. I know I should just be happy for the others. But I do kind of feel like this.
Cass told Alice today. Alice rang me later to tell me, and it seems it didn’t all go exactly as planned. They met up in town and went to the Pepperpot Café for hot chocolate. Alice says she was a bit worried because Cass seemed much more serious than usual. And when they were sitting down, Cass said, ‘So … I’ve got something to tell you.’
I have no idea
‘I feel quite exhausted after all that soul-bearing,’ said Cass, through a giant yawn.
‘So do I,’ I said. ‘I’m glad you told me, though.’
‘Me too,’ said Cass. ‘Night night.’
At first I thought I would lie there pondering Cass’s announcement. But actually, I fell asleep straight away. Cass is right, those sort of conversations are very tiring. Anyway, I didn’t get to sleep very long because the noise my dad makes banging around the house in the morning would wake anyoneup. Why he makes so much noise just getting ready to go and correct some exams is beyond me. It’s not like he’s, like, a carpenter and has to gather together lots of noisy spanners and hammers and stuff. Anyway, he woke us both up by slamming the bathroom door by accident, which happens almost every morning, and we sat up and looked at each other. Well, we sort of looked at each other; Cass can’t focus very well without her glasses.
‘Did you tell me you were gay last night or was that just a magical dream?’ I said.
‘It wasn’t a magical dream,’ said Cass, putting on her glasses. There was a slightly awkward pause. ‘Um, you’re still okay about it all, aren’t you?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘I have turned into a lesbian-hater overnight. I’m joking! Sorry! That wasn’t very funny. I am definitely still okay about it.’
‘Good,’ said Cass. ‘Can we talk about other stuff now? Even I am getting slightly bored talking about myself.’
‘We could talk about our sweet-making plans,’ I said.
‘Ooh, yes,’ said Cass. ‘Do you think your mum would let us try again?’
She said we could try again, but there was no condensedmilk or indeed sugar left so we’d have to go out and buy some. So we did, after breakfast, and then we went back to my house and made some more fudge. I think we are really getting the hang of it − it was much better than the last batch. Even Rachel grudgingly admitted that it wasn’t bad, which is a lot coming from her. So by the time Cass had to go home (with an old plastic takeaway box filled with half of the batch of fudge), we were feeling very pleased with ourselves. When I walked her out to the door it felt a bit formal for a second.
‘Well,’ I said, ‘um, thanks for telling me. You know, last night.’
‘Oh, yeah,’ said Cass. ‘Um, thanks for … listening?’
And then we started laughing, and everything was normal again. And then she went home. And now I am writing this. Although I’d better stop, I can hear my dad calling me. He probably wants to me to do the hoovering or some other servant -like duty.
I have just realised something. Now Alice is going out with Richard and Cass is going out with Liz, I am the only oneof the three of us who isn’t going out with anyone! I know I shouldn’t feel bad about this, but I sort of do. It’s not that I feel I really need a boyfriend, but I’m starting to wonder if I will ever find love again. Maybe I will meet someone at the rock camp, although the last time I met a boy while doing some sort of creative activity it was John Kowalski, and look how that turned out. Perhaps I will just be on my own for the rest of my life. That makes me feel a bit crap.
I have written a poem about my loveless state:
All of my best friends
Have got boyfriends or girlfriends
Frankly it’s not fair.
I have a feeling this poem makes me look a bit selfish. I know I should just be happy for the others. But I do kind of feel like this.
Cass told Alice today. Alice rang me later to tell me, and it seems it didn’t all go exactly as planned. They met up in town and went to the Pepperpot Café for hot chocolate. Alice says she was a bit worried because Cass seemed much more serious than usual. And when they were sitting down, Cass said, ‘So … I’ve got something to tell you.’
I have no idea
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