Читать книгу ‘Knocked out by my nunga-nungas.’ - Louise Rennison - Страница 56

Phew. To make Jock go away I have said I will go to Alldays later. Jock seemed to believe me because he said, “Awa’ the noo hoots akimbo,” or something. After he had done wheelies(!) and gone off on his bike I popped back into the telephone box to phone Jas.

“Jas, it’s me!!!! God it’s good to speak to you! What’s been happening???”

“Er … well … I got this fab new foundation; it’s got gold bits in it that make you …”

“Jas, no, no, no, be quiet, I have to tell you something.”

I told her about talking to the Sex God. “It was SO dreamy. He is going to be a HUGE popstar and then I will be richey rich rich. But still your best pal, Jas.”

She said, “Tom is thinking about doing Environmental Studies.”

I nearly said “Who cares?” but you have to be careful with Jas because she can turn nasty if she thinks you are not interested in her. I tried to think of something to say.

“Oh … er … yeah … the environment … er, that’s great, erm, there’s a lot of … er … environment here – in fact, that is all there is.”

Then I told her about the James fandango.

She said, “Erlack-a-pongoes. Did you encourage him? Maybe you gave out the wrong signals.”

“Jas, I was not in the nuddy-pants.”

“Well I’m just saying, he must have thought he could rest his hand on your basooma. Why is that? He has never rested his hand on my basoomas, for instance.”

“What are you rambling on about?”

“I’m just saying, this is not the first time this has happened to you, is it? There was Mark the Big Gob—”

“Yeah but—”

“You say it just happened. That just out of the blue he put his hand on your basooma. No one else was there so we will never really know for sure.”

“I didn’t … it was—”

“Perhaps James has heard about your reputation. Perhaps he thinks it’s all right to fondle your basoomas.”

I hate Jas. I slammed the phone down. I will never be talking to her again. I don’t forget things. Once my mind is made up that is it. The friendship is finito. She has made a mockery of a sham of my nunga-nungas. I would rather eat one of Libby’s night-time nappies than talk to Jas again.

She is an ex-best mate. Dead to me. Deaddy dead dead. For ever.