Читать книгу ‘Stop in the name of pants!’ - Louise Rennison - Страница 34

I really wish I hadn’t listened to the messages – it is a terrifying insight into the “life” I lead.

First it was some giggling pal of Mum’s saying that she had met a bloke at a speed-dating night and had got to number six with him. How does she know about the snogging scale? My mum is obviously part crap mother and part seeing-ear dog.

The next message was from Josh’s mum, saying, “After Josh came home with a Mohican haircut I don’t think it is a good idea that he comes round to play with Libby again. I am frankly puzzled as to why she had bread knives and scissors in her bedroom. Also I cannot get the blue make-up off his eyes. I suspect it is indelible ink, which means the word BUM on his forehead will take many hours to get off.”

There was a bit more rambling and moaning, but the gist is that Josh is banned from playing with my little sister Libby.

Dear Gott in Himmel.

And that was it. No message from the Luuurve God. It’s been a week now. I wonder why he hasn’t called? Has he gone off me?

Maybe I did something wrong when we last saw each other.