Читать книгу Editing Emma: Online you can choose who you want to be. If only real life were so easy... - Chloe Seager, Chloe Seager - Страница 17
Оглавлениеposted by EditingEmma 07.30
Woke up. Darn.
posted by EditingEmma 13.38
Strange Things That Have Happened Today
(And it’s only lunchtime. And only Day 2 of Sixth Form.)
When I came downstairs to breakfast, Mum appeared to be pretending to surf.
She said, ‘It’s my t’ai chi.’
I said, ‘Of course.’
Steph wants to go to Mum’s salsa class.
This is pretty much how the conversation went:
‘How’s your mum?’ Steph asked.
‘Keeping herself busy with a range of different hobbies.’
‘Ooh, like what?’
‘Surfing in the living room.’
‘Is she still seeing the stripper?’
‘You never get tired of asking that, do you?’
‘No.’
‘I’m not sure. But I do know that she’s been going to salsa, because she keeps stealing Bear to dance with.’
‘Salsa?’
‘Yes, I have since discovered where my dancing incapability comes from.’
‘Is she having lessons? Can we go with her?’
‘You want to go to salsa? With my mum?’
After an hour of thinking that she was joking, it turns out she does actually want to go to salsa. With my mum. Curiouser and curiouser…
The Awkward Toilet Encounter
I was washing my hands when Apple came out of the cubicle next door. And she smiled at me. Because she’s a really nice person. I think I managed to smile back relatively normally (like I haven’t spent days scrutinising every single part of her face and wondering things like whether she masturbates a lot or how often she washes her bras). But I ruined it by staring at her lips for a little too long. I couldn’t help thinking those lips have been on Leon’s lips. How recently? If I grabbed her and kissed her, would it be sort of like kissing Leon?
When I came out of the loos, Leon was waiting outside. My whole body flooded with adrenaline which, for some unknown reason, prompted me to speak to him.
‘Lurking in the shadows outside girls’ loos is generally considered a bit creepy,’ I said jokily.
‘I’m waiting for Anna,’ he said, without an expression. Maybe it’s contagious. She has some weird disease where all her facial muscles become like hanging bits of flab and she’s given it to him.
‘OK…’ I said, and started to walk away.
‘I didn’t know you were friends with Laurence,’ he called after me, stonily.
‘I didn’t know you were friends with Laurence.’
‘I used to sit with him in Maths.’
‘Oh. Did he help you?’
‘Oh, piss off, Emma.’
He said it with such force, and I was so taken aback that I felt like I’d been shoved backwards into the wall. The only person who has ever told me to ‘piss off’ in such an ugly way is my mother.
He stared at me all defiant and scowly, and I stood there looking back at him like a jellyfish with my mouth open. Then Apple came out of the loo and we all continued to stand there for a bit. She looked at us both and, I swear, almost managed an expression (one of confused awkwardness).
Then I quickly moved away.
posted by EditingEmma 15.32
Moping in Maths
I was hiding my phone under the desk but then I remembered it’s Mr Crispin… Ah Maths. My free blogging pass.
So I told Steph all about what happened and she gave me a Chewit. After I ate it, I threw the wrapper away and she said,
‘What? You’re not going to save it and roll it up in a ball with my hair and spit and keep it under your bed? I’m offended.’
‘I never kept his hair. Or spit.’
‘No, just his bloody plaster. Anyway, at least you’ve got Gracie’s brother’s party to look forward to tomorrow…’
I grunted. Then Mr Crispin asked me a question about ‘cumulative frequency’ and I just whimpered.
‘Is that all you do now? Whimper and grunt?’ asked Steph.
I grunted in response. She grunted back.
‘It was like… he hated me.’
Steph bobbed her head in sympathy. ‘I’ve run out of Chewits.’
‘It’s OK. I’m too miserable to eat.’
‘Or maybe you’re too full because you ate the whole pack.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Do you think we’d still be friends if we were guys?’ asked Steph.
‘No, you’d punch me.’
There was silence as we both visualised it.
‘Yeah, I probably would.’
posted by EditingEmma 15.50
Crazy Holly asked to plait my hair (she just loves to plait hair). I must be feeling pretty low because a) I let her and b) I enjoyed it.
posted by EditingEmma 17.16
At Home
‘Mum…?’ I say carefully.
‘What? What is it now?’ she spits.
How nice.
‘Are you still dating the stripper? I mean, again?’
‘Yes, I am dating Olly again and please call him Olly.’
‘How’s it going?’
‘Yesterday it was great. Today not so much. Ask me again tomorrow.’
‘OK.’
Silence.
‘It can’t be any worse than that guy who asked you what older birds had to offer over younger ones.’
‘No, it can’t. Thanks for reminding me.’
‘Any time.’
Silence.
‘So, Mum, what do older birds have to offer over younger ones?’
‘Stop it.’
Evidence: When using the internet to meet people, one must learn to ignore half the stupid crap people feel more free to say than they would to your face.
‘Oh, also, can we come to salsa with you tonight?’
She laughs.
‘No, I actually mean it.’
posted by EditingEmma 19.57
At salsa. It’s the break and Steph and Mum are queuing for the loos. I’m trying to at least pretend like I’m having fun, because I’ve been so crap over the past couple of months and Steph and Mum seem to be having a freakishly good time. But I will never be doing this again. Ever.
Why You Should Never, Ever Go to Salsa with Your Mum:
| 1) | You stand in lines, with men on one side and women on the other, and go round in a rotation. There aren’t enough men and so half the time you have to put your arms up and pretend to dance with an invisible person. |
| 2) | The rotation also means you have no control over who you dance with. You have to dance with everyone. There’s one really smelly man and I had to hold my breath for the whole minute that we were partnered. There’s this other man who trod on me A LOT (definitely his fault) and then when the music stopped said pityingly, ‘Don’t worry, it’s your first time.’ And another man who put his face way too close and got really into wiggling his hips against mine but didn’t move in any way that resembled the actual steps. |
| 3) | You are prey to watchful women who have come with the aforementioned men. There’s this one extremely hostile lady who keeps looking over with narrowed eyes at whoever is dancing with her fiancé. I wish she knew how truly, deeply I’d rather not be dancing with him. |
| 4) | You realise that you are so terrible at dancing, even your mum is better than you. |
Oh joy. The break is almost over and it’s my turn to dance with the smelly man again.
Add another reason to the list:
| 5) | You might come face to face with your mum’s strange taste in men. |
Back home now, thank God, but after class me, Mum and Steph sat down.
‘Are you looking forward to Gracie’s brother’s party?’ Mum asked.
‘I’m looking forward to having her stop talking about it,’ I replied.
‘OK, so don’t look now,’ Mum muttered, ‘but my ex-boyfriend was in the class.’
I thought back through the less than desirable bunch of men we had just danced with.
‘Which one?’
‘The dark-haired, dark-skinned one.’
‘The wiggly one?’
‘Yes, him.’
‘Oh, God, Mum… Why?’
‘What?! He’s a good-looking man.’
‘If you can see past the creepiness.’
‘Well, for me it was more seeing past the good looks.’
‘Did you meet him here?’ Steph asked.
‘Yes,’ Mum sighs, ‘this was a long time ago. Before I’d even tried internet dating or anything like that.’
Evidence: Most people use the internet merely to repeat the mistakes they make in the real world.
