Free Diary of a Chav by Grace Dent

roll up at Bezzie’s yard and knock on the door and I swear I can almost hear Carrie’s heart thumping through her T-shirt, and Bezzie opens the door and he’s got on white Nike tracksuit bottoms and a blue Adidas T-shirt and a little gold hoop earring, and the first thing I thought was how bloody enormous he was as he must be six foot three. I also thought how thin he was and what a huge nose he had, but later on Carrie said that she will always remember how gorgeous he was and how pale blue his eyes were and how he said, “Come in ladies, lovely to meet you,” when he didn’t say that at all, he said, “Gnnngnnnn’right? Come in, mind the mutt.” Then a King Charles Spaniel called Shane that was about a hundred years old limped out of the living room and licked us both and gave us a paw and Bezzie’s mum shouted shut the door ’cos we were causing a draft.
    Bezzie’s bedroom wasn’t a whole lot different to our Murphy’s. It was sort of messy and there was a funny smell of feet and Axe body spray and posters on the wall out of
Nuts
magazine of naked women covering their boobs and their mufties with their hands. Bezzie’s mum must have a “no mufty and nipple on the wall” rule too like my mum. There was quite a lot of posters of cars and stuff ripped out of car magazines too and all over the floor there was wires and recording equipment and a microphone set up as if it was a studio as well as a bedroom. Oh and lots of socks and cups and crisp packets. Anyway, I’m forgetting the main thing. Sitting on the bed watching
Time Team
on Bezzie’s portable telly was a lad with brown hair and blue eyes in a hoodie and jeans.
    It was Wesley Barrington Bains II!
    “Y’all right?” I said to him, then I did my best face which said: Look mate, I’m not bothered ’bout you, I’m just here with Carrie, right?
    I wanted him to know that I know that I’m not good-looking or anything and have no boobs and flat nipples and look a bit like a lemon so I didn’t want him to think I had any silly ideas about him just ’cos his mate liked mine.
    “Y’all right?” he said. Then he smiled at me and he had a nice smile. My stomach felt funny like I needed the loo or something. It was probably all those Cheesy Starships ’cos they ain’t exactly a complex carbohydrate. Wesley had lovely green eyes and wasn’t at all fat up close. He’s about seventeen and he looks like a proper bloke, he’s got wide shoulders and a bit of hair coming out of his T-shirt top, not that I was looking that much. I sat down on the bed beside him and he smelled a bit of Adidas sports deodorant and we both watched that little bloke off
Time Team
with the specs dig up a plate which proved beyond doubt that people in the olden days had plates.
    Anyway, the good thing was that Bezzie and Carrie seemed to hit it off dead well ’cos she started asking him all about EXACTLY how they record their tracks, so Bezzie started showing her the mic and the DAT recorder and how they host their MP3s online. Eventually Wesley said to me, “You at Mayflower, innit?”
    And I said, “Yeah.”
    And he said, “Are you, like, one of them superchavs innit??”
    And I tutted and said, “No mate. You wanna check your mouth tho’, being so prejudicial.”
    And he laughed proper loud then and I rolled my eyes at him and folded my arms. Then he said, “Do you live nearby?”
    And I said, “What you wanna know that for, bruv? Gonna stalk me?”
    And he laughed well loud again and said “No.”
    That last bit was meant to sound like a joke, but when I think about it, I sounded like I reckoned I was a rudegirl. A bit like when I told Eric he had brain damage. Me and Carrie stayed for an hour and then we went home.
    Bezzie never tried to kiss Carrie or nothing and he never even said he’d send her a text, but on our way home Carrie said that she felt like her life will never be the same again EVER. It is Wednesday night now and Bezzie hasn’t texted or nothing