Pride and Premiership (8 page)

So I then had to go to my parents’ bedroom, where Mum was sitting up in bed watching a film called
The Bridges of Madison County
. (She watches that almost as much as I watch
Titanic
– and cries just as much at it too, if not more.)

“Mum, I’m going out with Kellie, OK?” I said.

“OK,” she replied, snivelling. “Make sure you tell your dad.”

I wanted to say, “Why don’t the pair of you stop being stupid and just talk to each other?” But there was no point, I know what they’re like. And it’ll probably blow over by tomorrow anyway.

Right, party, here I come!

Had an absolutely crap night. Tara (spit, spit) Reid was at the party that Kellie took me to. What a nightmare! First of all, she and her stupid friends kept blatantly pointing at me and talking about me from across the room. Proper playground stuff it was, like we were twelve all over again. Then one of them, Chelsea Braintree, had the nerve to look me in the eye and mouth “bitch”.

“Just ignore them,” Kellie said. But then she went off for a dance and a smooch with Taylor Metcalfe, which left me on my own feeling like a right idiot. Two boys came up to talk to me. One called Brian, who was OK, so I said he could add me on Facebook, and another called God knows what because Tara walked by and deliberately bumped into me before he could tell me his name.

“Oi,” I said, “don’t do that!”

“Or what?” she snapped, pushing her face right up to mine.

I was scared but determined not to show it. So I held my ground and said, “Look, Tara, what’s your problem?”

“Stop playing dumb.”

“I’m not. You’ve hated me from day one. But if you’re talking about Ray – I dumped him as soon as I found out he was seeing you too.”

“You dumped HIM? Who do you think you are?” she said. “The fucking queen? You ain’t nothing special. With your elephantitis arse and bandy legs. Ray was using you, you stupid bitch.”

I could feel tears building. And I really didn’t want her to see them. So I just said, “Yeah? Well, fuck you!” and ran out.

When I hit the street, I kept running and looking behind to make sure she wasn’t following. I couldn’t see her or her friends, but I kept running just in case, until my heart was bursting through my chest and my feet were burning in my high heels. Then I stopped and checked how much money I had, because I’d planned to share a cab with Kellie. I knew £5 wouldn’t be enough to get me home, but I didn’t want to walk or take the bus – anything could happen at that time with the nutters you get round here. So I phoned home and Dad answered. I was really crying by then.

“Dad,” I sobbed, “I’m on my own in the middle of Shepherd’s Bush and I haven’t got enough money to take a cab back and—”

“Don’t worry,” he said before I could finish. “Just find a cab station and I’ll pay.”

Kellie rang as I got to Radio Cars.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Tara Reid, that’s what,” I replied. “Kel, I don’t want to be within three miles of that girl.”

“I didn’t know she was going to be there!” she protested.

“Yeah, but you didn’t exactly have my back when you realized that she was, did you?”

“Of course I did!”

“No, you didn’t! You were more concerned about snogging Taylor Metcalfe,” I snapped.

“That’s so–o wrong,” she said. “Come on, Rem, you know I’ve been after Taylor for ages.”

“Whatever, Kel,” I told her. “Just don’t expect me to have your back when you’re in trouble.”

I knew Dad would want to know what had happened, so in the cab I made up a story about having a fallout with Kellie. There was no point letting him know that the Tara situation had been more serious than I’d let on.

Anyway, he bought it. And went back to sleep on the sofa.

I want to sleep too but I can’t. I keep thinking about what Tara said about Ray using me. I’d really liked Ray. And she said I had an elephantitis arse and bandy legs. Is that what people think?

Is that what Robbie thinks?

I hate being me.

My phone’s ringing for the twelfth time in a row. I bet it’s Kellie again. Don’t know whether I’m ready to speak to her yet. She’s…

OK. I answered it. And Kellie apologized straight away.

“Kel, I’m already a nervous wreck about Robbie and I don’t need anything else on my plate,” I told her.

“OK,” she said, “but I swear I had no idea Tara Reid would be there.”

“I know, I know,” I admitted.

Anyway, she convinced me to go to Camden Market with her. Just off to get ready.

Camden was great. I bought a Shia La“Buff” T-shirt, a leather bag that has two long strings to open and close the zipper, and some earrings. Kellie bought some trainers and took two phone numbers. (What a minx!) Then we had lunch at the Loveshack, a Fifties-style American diner that has red-leather booths and a milkshake bar. Kellie ordered barbecued ribs and chips and a Double-Decker milkshake. It’s the kind of thing I’d usually have, but I went for a chicken Caesar salad and a glass of apple juice instead.

“What’s with the salad?” Kellie asked.

“Just watching my weight, that’s all.”

“If you’re watching your weight, I’d better be double watching mine – with my thunder thighs.”

“Yeah, right. Your legs are great. Not bandy, like mine.”

She frowned. “Bandy? Your legs aren’t bandy. What you talking about?”

“According to Tara Reid, they are. And apparently my arse has elephantitis.”

“That’s crap,” she scoffed, then she sucked hard on her straw and a quarter of her Double-Decker milkshake disappeared.

“Well… I’m watching my weight, anyway,” I said.

“Which is stupid if you’re doing it because of Tara Reid. She’s just jealous of you.”

“It’s not just because of her,” I said.

“Well, who then? Robbie?”

I nodded. “I don’t know what magazines you’ve been reading lately but have you seen any fat WAGs?”

“No. But then you’re not fat.”

“Come on, Kel, Robbie has so much choice, why would he want to be with someone who’s not perfect?”

“Because she’s a great girl who’s perfect for HIM! And if he doesn’t realize that, he can jog on,” she replied.

“Hmm. Maybe Malibu’s right and I should get a fail-safe to keep him on his toes.”

“A what?” asked Kellie. So I explained Malibu’s fail-safe theory to her. “So basically you keep the guy you DO want interested by having another guy you DON’t want on the side?” she said.

“Yep,” I confirmed. “Because that way you’re preoccupied, so the guy you DO want doesn’t think you’re really into him – which makes him want you more. But the fail-safe has to be crazy about you so that if you do run off with the one you really want, the fail-safe will take you back again if it all goes horribly wrong.”

“You’re sister’s gangsta,” Kellie said. “I like her style… But what would happen if she fell for her fail-safe?”

I thought about it for a second. “Nah. She wouldn’t. Roger’s so… Blah.”

“But if she did, that would sort of still be perfect, right?”

“S’pose so, in a way,” I said. “She reckons Spencer should be my fail-safe. But I dunno. I don’t feel right about it. He was good to me. It was only him going to uni that spoilt things.”

“Yeah, I see what y’mean. But if you did play them both, they’d never find out, would they? Robbie and Spencer are from two completely different worlds.”

I still didn’t feel comfortable about it, so Kellie said to give Robbie until 9 p.m. tomorrow evening to call or text.

“If he doesn’t,” she said, “you should take it as sign that he’s not that into you and get back in touch with Spencer. At least then he’ll keep you occupied while Robbie’s away. And if Malibu’s theory’s right, it’ll kick Robbie up the bum too. You can’t lose.”

I see her point. But why am I so hoping that Robbie contacts me by 9 p.m. tomorrow?!

Well, it sounds like Malibu had a star-studded time at the Orchid Bar. She saw Simon from Blue (just as good-looking in real life), Sarah from Girls Aloud (much smaller than she thought) and JLS (those boys are everywhere).

“It’s amazing. You’ve never seen nothing like it,” she said. “And I even got my picture taken by the paparazzi!”

“No way! Did you do the pout?”

But she didn’t reply because her phone rang. She answered it, then turned to me and said, “Um … this is gonna be a long one.” So I took the hint and went.

Malibu’s still on the phone. It’s been an hour! I’ve been flicking through mags, sort of waiting for her to finish talking so she could tell me more about the Orchid Bar. Now I feel like a right twot.

Right, that’s it. I’m going to watch my DVD box set of
Friends
, and there’s no distracting me once I get into
Friends
, so she can jog on.

I’ll watch it in my room, though, because the living room is a war zone – Mum is sitting on the sofa on one side of the room and Dad is sitting in an armchair on the other. She has a book held to her face and he has a newspaper. The silence is deafening. (To think I’d been convinced they’d make up by today.) It’s official – my family are a joke!

Just watched the episode where Rachel realizes that she wants Ross and goes to the airport to meet him from China, but he arrives with a girl. Rachel looked gutted.

Come on, Robbie. You have twenty-four hours to pull your finger out!

Scan the code to read Gary’s texts to Malibu:

The phone rang at 8 a.m. and I rushed to it, hoping it was Robbie, and groaned when I realized it was Kel.

“Has he called yet?” she asked without even saying hello.

“No,” I replied. “But there’s still, like, thirteen hours to go.”

“Bet you’re bricking it, though, aren’t you?”

“Kel, have you actually called for a reason or did you just want to torture me?” I asked.

“What d’ya mean?” she protested. “I woke up specially for this … torture.”

“It’s not funny,” I said over her giggling, but I must admit I did have a little smile on my face. I mean, who else but Kel could be that twisted?

I’ve been looking at my naked bod in the mirror because I don’t care what Kel says, Tara (spit, spit) Reid must have said those things about me for a reason. Anyway, I’ve decided: I need to lose weight on my bum and legs. End of.

Staying in my room. Mum and Dad are making the atmosphere in this house bloody unbearable and I don’t need it. Especially tonight. Hated every minute of being in the salon today. It was all about Malibu. Her and Goldenballs and the Orchid Bar. I think I know every detail, from the way that she posed for the paparazzi down to the colour of her knickers. Even Natasha looked impressed, and Blow-dry Sarah (whose hair, by the way, looked even bigger and fluffier than usual) said she was going to buy every magazine for the next two weeks to see whether Malibu’s picture was in one of them. And she will as well. If Malibu told her to jump out of a plane, she’d do it.

Anyway, because I was so nervous about Robbie making the deadline, I kept going to the toilet to check my phone, and got a little more gutted every time I saw there were no messages.

PS There was one decent thing about today – I was good with foodage. Only ate a packet of crisps and an apple. And I fobbed off Mum when she offered me dinner by saying I’d have it later. I feel a little bit light-headed but that’s probably just my body adjusting. I’ll get used to it.

Kellie just called. “Has he phoned yet?”

“How can he, Kel, if you’re always on the line?” I complained.

“All right, all right, keep your hair on.”

Ugh! I feel like I’m sitting here waiting when I already know how it’s going to end. Robbie’s not going to phone. I can feel it in my bones.

Mum called up to tell me it’s getting late to have my dinner. I shouted back that I didn’t want it, so she came into my room and said, “What’re you going to eat then?”