Читать книгу ‘…startled by his furry shorts!’ - Louise Rennison - Страница 38

I am lying amongst Jas’s sad collection of stuffed toys, mostly owls, while she ponces around in front of a mirror. What is she doing?

I said, “Jas it’s very distracting trying to tell you stuff, important stuff full of tragicosity about me your very bestest pally, when you keep pouting like a goldfish. What are you doing?”

“I’m practising puckering.”

“What?”

“Puckering. I had, well, a bit of a problem vis-à-vis snogging with Tom last night.”

Despite my world coming apart at the seams, I am always interested in snogging tales. “Tell me.”

“Well, I was quite nervy at first when I was waiting for him.”

“Were you doing your annoying flicky-fringe thing?”

“I don’t know; anyway, when he came in, I was sort of jelloid. But then it was all right because he got his whatsits out.”

“Pardon?”

“His, you know, snapshots from Kiwi-a-gogo land, so we looked at them for a bit. Until I felt calmed down. Actually there was a really cool one of Robbie…”

Oh brilliant. On top of everything else I was now talking about someone I had vowed I would never talk about this side of the grave.

I said, “Was Robbie playing the guitar and dancing with marsupials?”

Jas wasn’t even listening. “Anyway, as we were looking at them Tom got closer to me and put his arm around me. Then we, well… we, you know, started snogging and so on.”

“And so on? Where is ‘and so on’ on the snogging scale? What number did you get to?”

“Er… five and a bit of six. It was really groovy. I felt like I was all melting in to him and then… well… then I had sort of a lip spasm.”

“A LIP SPASM?”