Читать книгу ‘Knocked out by my nunga-nungas.’ - Louise Rennison - Страница 12

Phoned Jas.

“Jas.”

“Oh, hi Gee.”

“Why didn’t you phone me?”

“You’re phoning me. I would have got the engaged tone.”

“Jas, please don’t annoy me, I’ve only been speaking to you for two seconds.”

“I’m not annoying you.”

“Wrong.”

“Well, I’ve only said about two words to you.”

“That’s enough.”

Silence.

“Jas?”

Silence.

“Jas … what are you doing?”

“I’m not annoying you.”

She drives me to the brink of madnosity. Still, I really needed to speak to her, so I went on. “It’s really crap at home. I almost wish I hadn’t been banned from school. How was Stalag 14? Any goss?”

“No, just the usual. Nauseating P. Green smashed a chair to smithereens and back.”

“Really?! Was she fighting with it?”

“No, she was sitting on it having her lunch. It was the jumbo-sized Mars bar that did it. The Bummer Twins started singing “Who ate all the pies?” to her but Slim, our beloved headmistress, heard them and gave us a lecture about mocking the unfortunate.”

“Were her chins going all jelloid?”

“Yeah. In fact it was Chin City.”

“Fantastic. Are you all missing me? Did anyone talk about me or anything?”

“No, not really.”

Charming. Jas has a lot of good qualities though, qualities you need in a bestest pal. Qualities like, for instance, going out with the brother of a Sex God. I said, “Has Hunky – I mean, Tom – mentioned anything that Robbie has said about me?”

“Erm … let me think.”

Then there was this slurp slurp noise.

She was making slurping noises.

“Jas, what are you eating?”

“I’m sucking my pen top so I can think better.”

Bloody sacré bleu, I have got le idiot for a pal. Forty-nine centuries of pen-sucking later she said, “No, he hasn’t said anything.”