Angus, Thongs and Full-Frontal Snogging

by Louise Rennison

  I had to ask in a masochistic way, “Was Lindsay there?”

  Jas said, “Yes, she was. She’s quite nice, really; she had her hair up.”

  I was furious with Jas for being so disloyal and said, “Oh, it’s nice that you’ve made new friends. I can’t help thinking, though, that as Lindsay’s BEST friend you could advise her that people with massive ears should not wear their hair up.”

  I put the phone down on her.

  midnight

  Qu’est-ce que le point?

  monday october 26th

  7:00 p.m.

  I’ve been ignoring Jas. It’s tiring, but someone has to do it.

  thursday october 29th

  5:00 p.m.

  In Slim’s office today for a bit of a talking-to. Honestly, she has no sense of humor whatsoever.

  The main difficulty is that she imagines we are at school to learn stuff and we know we are at school to fill in the idle hours before we go home and hang around with our mates doing important things. Life skills, like makeup and playing records and trapping boys.

  Anyway, it was just one more little, trivial thing.

  We had to have our school photo taken, all of the fourth form and the teachers together. Even including Herr Kamyer, the rogue male. Ellen and Jas, Jools and Rosie Mees and me were all in the back row because we are the tallest. Well, we’ve started this new craze which is based around those old TV puppet shows Stingray and Supercar. Rosie has all the old videos, which we watch. We know all the key phrases like “Fire retro rockets” and “Calling International Rescue.” And we walk around all stiffly like we are being worked (badly) by puppeteers. At the moment we are concentrating on Marina Aquamarina. She was part of an underwater kingdom—well, her dad was the king of it, but they were being threatened by these horrible fish people (no, they didn’t wear codpieces but it would have been excellent ii they had).

  Anyway, Marina Aquamarina floated around underwater with her blond hair trailing behind her and her arms all flopping by her side. All the boys really liked her, especially because she was dumb— when anyone spoke to her she just blinked in an appealingly dumb way. So anyway, when we are being Marina Aquamarina, as well as floating around with our arms by our sides we are not allowed to speak, just shake our heads and blink. So, for instance, if a prefect said, “Where is your beret?” you could only blink and stare and then float off quickly.

  But then there is phase two, which is pretending to be a little boy in Supercar called Jimmy. Jimmy has a very upturned nose with freckles on it. Obviously you could just put your finger on your nose and force the tip back to get the snub nose effect, but a more sophisticated method is to use egg cartons. You take one of the bits that the egg fits in and paint some nostrils on it and some freckles. Pop it on some elastic and put it over your own nose. Voilà I’enfant Jimmy!!

  So, when we had the school photo done, Rosie, Ellen, Julia, Jas and me all had our Jimmy noses on. When you see the photo you don’t actually notice at first, but then, when you look closely, you can see that five girls at the back all have snub noses with freckles. Bloody funny in anyone’s language. Not Slim’s, though. She was all of a quiver.

  “Do you know how costly it is to have these photographs done? No, you do not, you silly girls. Do you know how ridiculous you make yourselves and the school seem? No, you seem not to know these obvious things.”

  Forty years later we got let out. Our punishment is that we have to pick up all the litter in the school grounds. That should please Mr. Attwood, the school caretaker. Revenge on us because we call him Elvis. He’s only about one hundred and nine, and the most boring, bad-tempered man in the universe, apart from my dad. I really don’t know what is the matter with him lately (my dad). He’s always hanging around, looking at me. Oh well, incest seems to run in my family. (That’s quite a good joke, actually.)

  november

  a bit of rough

  thursday november 5th

  7:00 p.m.

  I hate Guy Fawkes night. On the way to school it was a nightmare of jumping-jacks and bangers. Boys are obsessed with loud noises and frighten_ing people. I saw Peter Dyer (whelk boy), but he ignored me and also said something to his mate. He’s going out with Katie Steadman now—she’s welcome. I wonder if he’ll be my first and last boyfriend?

  Jas and I are talking again, which is a shame because all she wants to do is talk about Tom. She’s miffed because he has to work in the shop all weekend. I said, “Well, that’s what happens in the fruit and veg trade, Jas, you will always be second fiddle to his légumes.” For once, she didn’t argue back.

  7:30 p.m.

  Angus loves Bonfire Night. The dog next door has to be locked in a padded cell, it’s so frightened, but Angus loves it. He chases the rockets—he probably thinks they are grouse on fire. There’s a big bonfire out in the back fields, all the street is going. I’m not, though, because I know that firelight emphasizes my nose. I could wear a hat, I suppose. Is that my life, then, going around wearing a hat? No, I’ll just stay in my bedroom and watch other people having fun through the window.

  10:00 p.m.

  Brilliant bonfire!!! I love Bonfire Night. I had baked potatoes and got chatted up by a boy from up the street. He looks a bit like Mick Jagger (although not, of course, eighty). He said, “See you around,” when I left to come home. I think he might go to the thick boys’ school but, hey ho, he can be my bit of rough. Snigger snigger.

  Angus is curled up on my bed, which means I can’t straighten my legs, but I daren’t move him. He’s got a singed ear and his whiskers are burnt off but he’s purring.

  wednesday november 11th

  4:20 p.m.

  Jas comes round for a bit of a “talk” after school. I make her my special milky coffee drink. She starts to moan on: “Tom is going to be working again this weekend.”

  I said, “Well, I told you, it’s a family business.” I felt like a very wise person. Also I’ve never said “family business” in my life. Oy vay.

  Jas didn’t seem to notice my newfound wisdom. She just raved on. “I don’t know, I mean, I really, really like him but I want to have fun . . . I don’t want to have to be all serious and think about the future and never go out.”

  I’d really got into the swing of my new role now. “Look, Jas, you’re intelligent [see what I mean? I could say these things without any hint of sarcasm], you’re a good-looking young girl, the world is at your feet. Do you want to end up with a fruit and veg man? Stay with him and the next thing you know you’ll have five children and be up at dawn arguing about cabbages. Look what happened to my mum,” I said meaningfully.

  Jas had been following me up until that point, but then she said, “What did happen to your mum?” and I said, “She got Dad.”

  Jas said, “I see what you mean.”

  monday november 16th

  4:10 p.m.

  Jas has finished with Tom. She came in all ashen-faced and swollen-eyed this morning. I had to wait until break to talk to her.

  We went to the tennis courts even though it was bloody freezing. I’m going to persevere with my bra, even if it does bunch up. I think my breasts are definitely growing. Fondling is supposed to make them bigger. Melanie Griffith must do nothing but fondle hers, they’re gigantic. Anyway, Jas told me the whole thing about Tom and how she has now become a dumper.

  (Verb to dump: I dump, you dump, he/she/it dumps etc.)

  Jas said, “He was upset and angry at the same time. He said he thought we were good together.”

  Jas looked as if she was about to cry again so I put my arm round her. Then I took it away quickly—I don’t want to start the lesbian rumor again. I said, “Jas, there’s plenty of other boys. You deserve better than a greengrocer with a horrible bigger brother.”

  10:00 p.m.

  Oh dear God, Jas on the phone again. Has she done the right thing? etc. etc. etc.... I must get her interested in someone else.

  thursday november 19th

  8:00 p.m.


  Drama drama!!!

  We had a substitute teacher today for biology. No, I don’t mean substitute, I mean reserve, no, I don’t mean that, I mean . . . oh anyway, a student teacher. She was very nervous and very short-sighted and we’d all got that mad bug that you get some days when you can’t stop laughing. The student teacher, Miss ldris, asked me to hand out pipettes or something and I tried to get up, only to find that Ellen and Jools had tied my science overall straps to the drawer handles.

  They were helpless with laughter and so couldn’t undo them. It took me ages to get free. Then Rosie wrote a note: This is the plan— Operation Movio Deskio. Whenever Miss ldris writes on the board we all shift our desks back a couple of centimeters, really quietly.

  By the end of the lesson when she looked round from the board, we were all squashed up against the back wall and there was a three-meter gap in front of her. We were speechless with laughing. She just blinked through her glasses and didn’t say anything.

  Then it happened. Jas and I got to the school gate and Robbie was there. For one moment I thought he had realized that it was ME ME ME he wanted and not old dumbo, but he gave me a HORRIBLE look as I passed by. I said to Jas, “Did you see that? What’s he got against me? All right, he’s seen my knickers, but it’s not a hanging offense.”

  Jas went a bit red. I said, “Do you know something I don’t?”

  And she said nervously, in a rush, “Well, erm, maybe. I think he’s a bit cross, because Tom’s upset we’re not going out and I said it was partly because I’d spoken to you and you had said I really shouldn’t go out with someone in a fruit and veg shop because it was not really good enough for me. Well, you did say that.”

  I got hold of her by her tie. “You said what???!!!”

  She just blinked and went pink and white.

  midnight

  I CANNOT BELIEVE IT. Stabbed in the back by my so-called best friend. No wonder Robbie is so moody and stroppy with me.

  monday november 23rd

  4:15 p.m.

  Terrible day. Jackie suggested that we do something to pass the time in German, while Herr Kamyer amused himself declining verbs on the blackboard. (What a stupid language German is. You have to wait until the end of the sentence to find out what the verb is. But my attitude by then is, Who cares?? I think I might start calling my father Vater and my mum Mutter just for a change. Vati and Mutti, for short.)

  Anyway, Jackie said we should mark each other out of ten for physical attractiveness. The list was skin, hair, eyes, nose, figure, mouth, teeth. You had to write out the list and put your name on the top of the paper and then pass it round to everyone to give you a mark. It was Jackie, Alison, Jas, Rosie, Jools, Ellen and Beth Morgan. I didn’t want to do it but you don’t say no to Jackie. I more or less gave everyone near top marks for everything, even in the face of obvious evidence to the contrary. For instance, I gave Beth seven for her teeth—my logic was that they might be nice when the front ones grow back in, you never know. All the marks were given anonymously. Then we got our papers back with the marks listed.

  My list was:

  skin 7 8 8 7 8 8 7

  hair 8 8 8 8 8 8 8

  eyes 7 8 8 8 8 8 8

  nose 4 3 3 0 4 4¼ 4

  figure 7 6 7 7 7 71/2 7

  mouth 6 6 6 6 5 61/3 6

  teeth 8 8 9 9 8 9 9

  Someone gave me a zero for my nose!!! I got the lowest marks out of anyone. My best feature was my teeth! Jas had got mostly eights for all of her features and so she was in that really annoying mood when you’ve done quite well in an exam and it makes you sort of “kind” to people who haven’t done as well. We compared marks on the way home.

  “You’ve got more marks for your mouth than me, Jas. What’s wrong with mine? Why is yours so much better? Did you give me six and a third? That looks like your handwriting.”

  She was squirming a bit by now. “Does it? No, I don’t think it is.”

  Then I had her. “Well, if it’s not that one, you must have given me even less than that.”

  She backed down. “Oh yes, actually, yes, that is my writing, yes.”

  I was livid. “What is wrong with my mouth?”

  “Nothing, that’s why I’ve given you six and a third.”

  ‘‘But that’s only average.”

  “Well, I know I would have given you more, because I think that it’s definitely seven or even an eight when it’s closed.”

  “When it’s closed,” I said dangerously.

  Jas was as red as two beetroots. “Well, I had to consider things overall. You see, it’s your smile.”

  “What about my smile?”

  “Well, when you smile, because your mouth is so big...”

  “Yes, do go on...”

  “Well, it sort of splits your face in half and it, well, it spreads your nose out more.”

  7:00 p.m.

  In my room in front of the mirror. Practicing smiling without making my nose spread. It’s impossible. I must never smile again.

  8:00 p.m.

  Phoned Jas.

  “Jas, you only gave me seven and a half for my figure, and I gave you eight for yours.”

  “Well?”

  “Well, I only gave you eight because you are my friend.”

  “Well, I only gave you seven and a half because you are my friend. I was going to give you seven.”

  midnight

  How dare Jas only give me—what was it?—eight for my eyes? I gave her eight for hers and she has got stupid brown eyes.

  1:00 a.m.

  That Beth stupid Morgan can only have given me four, three or zero for my nose. I gave her six and a half for hers and I was being very bloody generous when I did.

  What is the point of being a nice person?

  thursday november 26th

  9:00 p.m.

  Vati dropped a bombshell today—he is going on a trip to NEW ZEALAND because M and D are thinking of going to live there! I don’t know why they bother to tell me. I don’t really see what it has to do with me. It was just as I was on the dash to school and Vati said, “Georgia, I don’t know if you have heard anything but there’s been a lot of redundancies at my place.”

  I said, “Vati, don’t tell me you are going to have to go on the dole with students and so on. You could always sell your apron if we get too short of money.”

  monday november 30th

  4:20 p.m.

  Jas still moping about Tom. We have to avoid “his” part of town now. I hope I’m not going mad but Rosie told me that she draws stuff on the roof of her mouth with her tongue. Like a heart or a little house. I said she was bonkers but now I’ve started doing it.

  5:00 p.m.

  Bumped into the boy up the street I met at Bonfire Night. We sat on our wall for a bit. It’s funny, he’s one of the only lads I don’t feel like I should rush off and cover myself in makeup for. I don’t even flick my hair so that it covers half my face (and therefore half my nose). Dad says if I keep doing it I will go blind in one eye, and also that it makes me look like a sheepdog, but what does he know? And anyway, it won’t bother him in New Zealand.

  Bonfire Boy is called Mark and I suppose the reason I’m not too self-conscious in front of him is that he has a HUGE mouth. I mean it, like Mick Jagger. He is about seventeen and he goes to Parkway, the rough school. He’s mad about football and he and his mates go play in the park. I think I’ve seen them when I’ve “accidentally” taken Angus for a walk up there. He’s sort of quite attractive (Mark, not Angus), despite the mouth. He wants to be a footballer and has got a tryout somewhere. When I left he said, “See you later.” Oh no, here we go again, on the “See you later” trail.

  9:00 p.m.

  Saw Mark walking down the street with his mates. He looked round and up at my bedroom window so I had to bob down quickly. I hope he didn’t see me because I had an avocado mask on and my hair Sellotaped down to keep my fringe straight. I wonder where he is going? He had trainers and joggerbums on.

/>   10:30 p.m.

  Heard Mutti and Vati arguing. Oh perfect, now they’ll split up and they’ll both want custody of me.

  10:40 p.m.

  If I go with Mum I will have access to makeup, clothes, and so on, and I can usually persuade her to let me stay out later. She laughs at my jokes and goes out a lot. On the other hand, there is Vati.

  10:42 p.m.

  Ah well, bye-bye, Vati....

  december

  the stiff dylans gig

  tuesday december 1st

  11:00 a.m.

  Mucho excitemondo! There is going to be a Christmas dance at Foxwood School. Slim announced it in assembly.

  “Girls, there is to be a dance at Foxwood School, to celebrate Christmas, on December twelfth, commencing at seven thirty.”

  Me and Rosie and Jas and Ellen went “Oooohh oooohhhhhhhh ooohhhhhhh!” for so long that Slim had to say, “Settle, girls.” At last she went on, “To add to the festivities there will be a . . . band.” We started doing our “ooohhhing” again but Hawkeye glared at us so viciously we stopped.

  I had thought of shouting “Three cheers for the Headmaster of Foxwood, and three for Merry England!” but I didn’t.

  Slim still hadn’t finished. “The band will be The Stiff Dylans.”

  lunchtime

  12:30 p.m.

  Jas and me had a confab by the vending machine. Jas said, “Do you think we should go? I mean Lindsay will be there, and Tom might . . . well, he might go with someone else and then we’d like. . .”