Free My Invisible Boyfriend by Susie Day Page B

mentioning you to me in the staff room—and not in the nice way, babes. You don’t need too many distractions this year. And it is only a café closing down. It’s not the end of the world.”
    I think that’s half the problem. I’m quite familiar with apocalypses: If we only have twelve hours before the fabric of time collapses in on itself and sucks us into a singularity, I’ve got a plan all worked out. I can cope fine with the world ending: It’s the world being unfair I can’t manage.
    After dinner, I stomp up to the attic, and lie on my bed. My gingerbread boy is still there, leaning nonchalantly against my desk lamp, his buttons looking especially shiny.
    He’s a rubbish boyfriend, Gingerbread Ed. If I were Ludo, Peroxide Eric would be sweeping me into his arms, wrapping his coat around me in a big wool-scratchy hug, and snogging all my woes away. If I were Dai, Henry would be doing something ultra-practical and dynamic, like promising to phone his dad to ask him to buy the Little Leaf, just to cheer me up. If I were Fili, Simon would be expressing his deep concern by, well, probably just holding my hand and looking a bit miserable. But at least he’d be there.
    Mycroft Christie would explode something on my behalf, and then look attractively guilty while pretending he did it for The Greater Good of Humanity or whatever.
    We all simply want to belong.
    That’s still what I want: to belong, to fit in, to know I’m not ever going to feel like a lonely Frog Girl again. Only I think maybe there are different kinds of loneliness, different kinds of belonging. Maybe I don’t just want to belong to a somewhere. Maybe I want to belong with a someone : a real one, the kind who isn’t made of crumbs and ground ginger.
    But I suppose, sometimes, a girl just has to take care of herself.
    I whack the Dread Pirate on the desk and drum my fingers, plotting. Ed’s probably worried about his Heidi. We probably had a very moving conversation earlier on the phone. He’s probably writing a song about me right now, strumming his guitar, wishing he were here…
    I log into Ed’s account, and wiggle my fingers over the keyboard.
    A text box flashes up before I’ve even given Ed a subject line.
    UChat
    ludovica_b: Hi Ed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
    ludovica_b: Just wanting to say Hi!!!!!
    ludovica_b: We are all excited to meet you. :)
    WOE.
    UH.
    It’s Ludo. Ludo, talking to Ed. Ludo, talking to Ed, like Ed is real. Suddenly, me hanging out with Mycroft Christie doesn’t seem quite so bonkers.
    Guess Ed had better reply, then?
    gingerbread_ed: hey ludo
    ludovica_b: OMG you are there!
    ludovica_b: Hiiiiiiiii
    ludovica_b: I’m Heidi’s friend btw
    gingerbread_ed: i know
    gingerbread_ed: i mean, she told me about you
    ludovica_b: OMG!!!!
    gingerbread_ed: feels like i know you already
    ludovica_b: haha!
    ludovica_b: why are you gingerbread?
    gingerbread_ed: long story
    gingerbread_ed: ask heidi :)
    ludovica_b: got to go bb
    gingerbread_ed: say hi to eric from me
    ludovica_b: OMG you know EVERYTHING!!!
    gingerbread_ed: i do my best
    I feel kind of giddy. And brilliant. And sick. And urgently in need of some explanation of the gingerbread thing.
    Ed bought it for me as a parting gift. Got Betsy to make a special one that I could keep forever: presented it to me in the Little Leaf, while we were snuggled up on the Sofa of Sex. The squishy eye is intentional. He’s giving me a flirty little wink, just to make sure I don’t forget him—as if I could…
    I’m getting a bit too good at this, I think. And then the screen winks at me again, and I see a little envelope appear at the top of Ed’s page.
Message from: dai_fawr Hey dude,
    OK, so she says she didn’t, but I know she messaged you—so in case you were wondering, Ludo is not actually a psycho stalker. She just comes off like that sometimes. Just in case you were thinking you were being harassed by nutters.
    Don’t run away screaming from Ryder