Free Pride and Premiership by Michelle Gayle

I’ve got the answer to all your problems,” she finally answered.
    ALL my problems?
I thought.
What, is she going to make Spencer not hate me, get Mum and Dad back on track, plus make sure Robbie doesn’t meet a girl in Ayia Napa? Perfecto!
    “I’m all ears,” I told her.
    “One word,” she replied. “The gym.”
    I tutted. “First of all, that’s TWO words, Kel. Second of all, have you listened to a word I’ve said?”
    “Of course I have,” she said. “But I must admit, I’ve been more focused on the big picture. Which is: you hate your bum, I hate my thighs, now what are we gonna do about it?”
    “Where’re you going with this randomness?”
    “I tell you where I’m going – no, where WE are going. We’re going for a free personal training session at Canon’s tomorrow morning.” She announced it as if I’d won the bloody lottery.
    I’d usually thank someone for doing something so considerate, but I know Kellie too well.
    “Who is he, Kel?”
    “What’s wrong with you? Why’ve you got to be so cynical?”
    “I’m not going unless you tell me who he is,” I insisted.
    She gave a big sigh. “Ugh, all right then. I spotted the buffest boy on the planet yesterday, straight after I left you at Nando’s. I’m talking muscles on muscles. So I speeched him – of course.”
    “Of course.”
    “And it turns out he’s a fitness trainer. So guess what I said?”
    “What?”
    “ ‘I’d love to have a session with you.’ Get it? SESSION!”
    “Duh. You don’t need to explain,” I replied.
    “But I wasn’t selfish, Rem. When he agreed, I told him that I wanted to bring a friend.”
    “And I suppose he’s bringing a friend for me, is he?” I asked sarcastically.
    “NO. I swear. It’s just going to be us two,” she said. “And him.”
    I groaned.
    “Come on,” she urged. “He says they’ve got machines that can tone us up in twenty minutes. TWENTY MINUTES! Even if you don’t like it, at least you’ll be looking tight for when Robbie gets back.”
    Kellie knows how to play me so–oo well. “Oh, all right then. I’m in,” I told her.
1.30 p.m.
    Posed in the mirror to see what I’ll look like after my gym session. I turned to the side and clenched my bum in tight. Then even tighter. Fantastico! (Even if I say so myself.)
2.45 p.m.
    Watched a
Jeremy Kyle
repeat on ITV2 called “Fifth show, fourth girl … second DNA test!” Really cheered me up. I don’t have problems. THOSE people have problems.
6.35 p.m.
    I was in my room and Malibu was in hers (gassing on the house phone) when Mum called us for dinner at six-thirty on the dot. She said we have to eat together as a family, but Dad wasn’t even home yet. So I did something sly. I told her that Dad couldn’t get through to the house phone so he sent me a text to say he was running late.
    “He asked us to wait for him,” I added.
    “Really?” she replied, surprised.
    I know it was wrong, but someone has to do something to salvage their marriage. Anyway, I’ve got a plan but first I’m just going to check if Godfather Alan has got back to me. (He might have a better idea.)
6.40 p.m.
    No. Still no email from Alan. I’ll have to solve this parental marriage crisis on my own.
    Here’s the plan: the dinner Mum’s just made is destined for the fridge because I’m going to blow a massive chunk of my wages and get my mum and dad’s favourite food from Wong Man Chu delivered to our house. (They always go there for their anniversaries, and this will remind them of the love they can’t afford to lose.) Perfecto!
    But first I have to get Dad home.
6.50 p.m.
    I called Dad and told him to hurry home because I needed to speak to him. Now, as lies go, technically that wasn’t one, because I needed to get him to pretend HE ordered the Chinese takeaway to win Mum back.
    He was umming and ahhhing about when he’d get here, so I got emotional and made out it had something to do with Tara (spit, spit) Reid. Technically, as lies