Free Are These My Basoomas I See Before Me? by Louise Rennison

matching catsuit.”
    She just winked at me.
    Oh no, I bet he has.
    And I bet it is snug.
    Round the trouser snake area.
    Oh noooooooo.
    As we walked, I gave the gang the pep talk.
    “Don’t forget the plan. The key note here is nicenosity and glaciosity. You have to be around me at all times, making me look vair popular…. Smiling is good, but no ad hoc, full-on snorting and capering sort of laughing.”
    sugar club
    9:00 p.m.
    We’re going in.
    It’s an amazing place. It’s got a sort of “chill out” room. I know that because it says so on a notice. Ellen was going, “Is it like…if when…you know, you’re hot or something and…”
    Ellen should really live in that room. She is so dithery at seeing her “boyfriend” that she can hardly keep her head on.
    in the tarts’ wardrobe
    I said, “I’ve got this new stay-on lipstick so even if someone had a wire brush, they couldn’t get it off.”
    Rosie said, “Oh yeah, you say that but you should get Sven to test it. If anyone is a human wire brush, it’s him. The gorgeous big brute.”
    I said, “Where is the gorgeous big brute?”
    Rosie said, “With the lads. They are having a pre-club game of footie in the park.”
    It’s dark.
    Why?
    ten minutes later
    OK, big breaths (yeth, I thertainly have got big breaths).
    I’ve got my stilettos on. I am full to the tippy-topmost of sophisticosity and je ne sais quoi .
    Except in the knicker department, which has a touch of the jelloid about it.
    What if Masimo has had second thoughts and he just comes over and says, “Face it, love, you’re dumped”? Although he of course would say “dump-io-ed.”
    10:00 p.m.
    The Blunderboys came lurgying in. Mark Big Gobhad his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and some tiny fool hanging off his arm. His mouth is practically bigger than she is. As he passed by us, he said, “There’s a party in my trousers and you’re all invited.”
    And the Blunderers were going, “Oh yeah. Cool.”
    And laughing like constipated hyenas.
    Prats.
    10:30 p.m.
    Oooh, this is agony, this hanging around pretending not to be hanging around. Where is he?
    Then I saw him. He came out of the backstage area and he was wearing an electric blue suit with a blue shirt. Blimey, he looked so cool. And he’s so sort of blokey. He’s got a bit of designer stubble and his hair is a bit longer.
    Every bit of me is separately jelloid. Now I know how Slim feels when all her chins are moving in a different rhythm.
    He was talking to a group of St. Pat’s boys and then two tarts I vaguely knew from St. Mary’s came up, thrusting themselves at him. And giggling, like hens that had eaten too many worms and werehaving a worm rush. If you know what I mean and I think you do.
    Mabs said, “You’d better move about a bit, Gee, otherwise he won’t know you’re here.”
    Jools said, “Look, there’s a spare table. Let’s go and sit down at it and then he will see us walking across.”
    Good point well made.
    We started to walk over to the table.
    Bloody hell, Mum’s shoes were high. I’d better walk slowly. Oh, and do the flicky hair, hip to the right, hip to the left thing that boys are supposed to like. I don’t know why they like girls who look like they have got false hips, but there you are. The whole bloody thing is a mystery.
    two minutes later
    It is amazing, though, boys really do like it. At last I reached the table and put my hand on it to steady myself. I’m exhausted. I may have to have a little lie down under the table and…
    “ Ciao, Georgia.”
    I looked up and there he was. Looking at me with those dreamy eyes. They looked amazingly yellow. It must be the blue suit, but they were sortof like Angus’s eyes. Not insane, clearly, but the color was the same. And his skin is sort of olive, and his mouth, well, blimey is all I can say.
    thirty seconds later
    So much for our plan of light sophisticated talk…the ace gang were WUBBISH. They were just giggling and twittering