The Worst Girlfriend in the World

by Sarra Manning

  I clicked my fingers so fiercely that I nearly had Alice’s heavily mascaraed eye out. She wore her new wedge sneakers and the drapey blue dress I’d made her. It had come up a little small but Alice didn’t mind because she said it did awesome things to her boobs, even if she did have to wear Spanx under it, which she’d rolled down so she could manage half a pesto pizza.

  I was wearing cropped trousers with my black lace-up brogues, a skinny-fit white T-shirt and a black jacket that looked like an iconic Chanel jacket if the lighting was dim and you squinted really hard. We didn’t really have anywhere on our bodies to hide our alcoholic contraband.

  ‘We have to organise ourselves better,’ Alice said crossly, after I’d tried to force the bottles down my tight trouser legs. It looked like I had some kind of gross disease like elephantiasis. ‘We can’t both do body-hugging.’

  ‘Would it kill you to wear an A-line dress just once in your life?’

  Alice nodded frantically. ‘Yes, yes it would.’

  I surveyed our assorted limbs. ‘We’ll just have to neck it before we go in.’

  ‘You know I can’t ingest a large volume of liquid in a short amount of time.’ Alice was close to tears. ‘I’m not physically capable of drinking that fast.’

  It was true. Alice had once taken four hours to get through an iced coffee when we went to Leeds for the day. ‘I could always drink both bottles.’ I smiled brightly. ‘If it would help.’

  ‘No, it wouldn’t help.’ Alice stamped one wedge-sneakered foot. ‘Why did you have to wear a jacket with sleeves that don’t reach your wrists?’

  ‘I like it. It looks a bit Chanel. Kind of.’ We looked round to see Dora standing there. Actually, she looked more as if she were floating than standing because she was wearing a huge, voluminous black dress. And I mean huge. Crinoline huge. ‘You going to The Wow?’

  She was talking to me, not Alice, which wasn’t a surprise given how totally they’d not got on last Saturday. ‘We are, except we’re having, um, issues.’

  Dora took a step closer. She had old-fashioned aviator goggles perched artfully on top of her huge pink beehive. I had to admire her for going all out in pursuit of her look. ‘What kind of issues?’

  I came to a decision then. I was going to be on the same course as Dora for two years and I’d rather spend those two years on friendly terms. So, she and me and Alice were going to have to find some common ground, which admittedly might be difficult, but now was as good a time as any.

  ‘Alcohol issues,’ I told Dora, even though Alice clicked her teeth and shoved me in the ribs. ‘We have nowhere on our persons where we can hide two half-litre bottles of vodka and diet Coke.’

  ‘That is a problem,’ Dora said. ‘Have you come up with a solution?’

  ‘Does it look like we have?’ Alice asked with a snarl and another stamp of her foot. ‘I am not paying for drinks in The Wow. No way.’

  ‘I would never pay for drinks in a club either,’ Dora said. ‘I’m always broke. It costs a lot of money being a full-time Steampunk.’

  I could feel Alice thrumming next to me like she was working on some devastating comeback to that little insight into Dora’s lifestyle choices. I gave her a warning prod. ‘It’s not that. It’s a matter of principle. They water down all the drinks and they won’t serve you unless you pretty much rest your boobs on the bar to get the staff’s attention.’

  ‘And Franny has no boobs to rest anywhere,’ Alice said tartly.

  Dora didn’t say anything. Then she slowly lifted her skirt and I saw that I’d been right. She’d made a crinoline cage out of what looked like old coat hangers. I was quite curious to see how she’d done it, but that wasn’t the most interesting thing under her skirts. No, that would be the carrier bag from the off-licence that was dangling from one of the hangers. ‘A bottle of red wine and one of my rings doubles up as a corkscrew,’ she said proudly.

  ‘Oh my God.’ Even Alice was impressed. ‘You’re my hero.’

  We gave Dora our bottles and followed behind her as she glided into The Wow. Well, until her crinoline got stuck in the doorway and we had to give her a good shove, to the amusement of Scary Bob, the doorman, who was too busy laughing to even check if we were smuggling in alcoholic beverages. We sat at our usual table, which I guessed was going to be Dora’s usual table too because she was on her own (apparently Matthew and Paul had gone to a sci-fi convention in Oldham, which must be secret gay code for something far more exciting) and she’d helped us in our hour of need. It would have been rude to make her sit somewhere else.

  It turned out all right because Alice and Dora could talk to each other about make-up and how hard Dora found it to maintain the right kind of pinkiness to her hair, while I kept my gaze riveted on the door that led to the backstage. But, like, subtly riveted.

  The door opened. I held my breath, but it was only the sneering studio tech from college. He glanced over at us as he walked past and then Dora actually said, ‘Hi’, to him, like it was no big deal.

  ‘Hi,’ he said and even his voice sounded like a sneer, as if he couldn’t believe that she would dare to address him when he was in Thee Desperadoes and could talk to Louis any time he wanted and also when he was a studio tech and she was an annoying first-year fashion student who thought it was OK to touch college equipment with her grubby fingers. That was what he managed to evoke with his ‘Hi’.

  ‘Rude, much?’ Dora said loud enough for him to hear, even over the sounds of some really bad moperock, and then she turned back to talk to Alice about the merits of Manic Panic over Crazy Colour Hair Dye and though I didn’t want to miss anything, I was dying for a wee and it was better to go now than when Thee Desperadoes were on stage.

  I could also feel one of my false eyelashes making a bid for freedom and was just trying to do a repair job in front of the mirror, when someone dug me in the ribs.

  ‘Franny B!’

  ‘Jesus Christ!’ I almost jabbed my finger right through cornea, retina and all the other bits that make up an eye. I didn’t, but it was pretty close. I looked behind me in the mirror to see two uncertain faces waiting to find out if they’d blinded me. ‘Oh, hey! Hi! How are you?’

  It was Ashleigh and Vicky from school. If Alice was the hottest girl at St Anne’s, then Vicky was the prettiest. She always looked dewy like she’d just stepped from the pages of a magazine where she was advertising a flowery fragrance, but she wasn’t at all stuck-up about the way she looked. Ashleigh was her best mate and she was scary-smart. She’d done half her GCSEs a year early and it was a little embarrassing to see her again knowing that she must know that I’d ballsed some of mine right up.

  Maybe that was why she gave me such an enthusiastic hug. ‘I said to Vicks that you’d probably be here tonight,’ she said, eyeing my cropped trousers and inspired-by-Chanel jacket. ‘God, you look so cool.’

  ‘Yeah, like you should be on one of those street-style blogs,’ Vicky added, looking anxiously down at her own outfit.

  Vicky and Ash were wearing vests, unbuttoned plaid shirts, cut-off jean shorts, black tights and Uggs. It was what the Merrycliffe indie girls wore.

  ‘You both look great too,’ I said, because there was something, though not much, to be said for comfy instead of chic. ‘I envy your Uggs. I can’t wear tights with cropped trousers but my brogues are really pinching and my ankles are going to freeze on the walk home.’

  ‘So, like, how’s college? What have you made? Are there any fit boys? Parminder said that there are loads of hot, older art students.’

  We talked about college for a bit and then Ash, who was scary organised as well as scary smart, wanted to know if I’d thought about my costume for The Wow’s Halloween party (last year Alice and I had come as eighties Madonna and nineties Madonna, but it had been wasted on the masses) and if I was going to make T-shirts with sequinned slogans on them for Christmas again.

  It was ages since I’d had a really good chat with Ash and Vicky. Probably long before I’d
left school because they’d never talk to me when I was hanging out with Alice. Not many girls would. Which reminded me…

  ‘We should totally hang out one evening,’ I said, as I put away my make-up bag, because we’d been yammering for ages and I didn’t want to miss Thee Desperadoes. ‘Maybe at half-term or something.’

  They agreed that it would be amazing and then I nudged Vicky on the arm because she was a softer touch than Ash. ‘I hate to think that Alice has to fly solo at school now,’ I said softly. ‘Don’t suppose you could ask her to eat lunch with you —’

  ‘You mean when she’s not getting lunch with some boy that she stole from another girl?’ Ash interrupted, eyes blazing, because there was history there. There was always history when it came to Alice and other girls. ‘If Alice hasn’t got anyone to go around with at school then it’s her own fault.’

  ‘Please.’ I gave Ash my most imploring look, which involved knitting my brows so hard that it hurt. ‘I’m not asking you to become best mates, but try to include her. Honestly, she is such a laugh when she’s not —’

  ‘Slutting around like a total slut.’

  I actually hadn’t missed the way Ash continually interrupted whatever anyone was saying.

  ‘That’s a really denigrating thing to say about another girl,’ I said, which was what Siobhan said to me when I was commenting on other girls’ extreme sluttishness. ‘I thought you were a feminist.’

  ‘I am! I totally am! Oh my God, I can’t believe you think I’m a bad feminist when all I do is try to make things better for other girls. Alice has no respect for any girl.’

  My good deed had gone bad. I held up my hands in surrender. ‘It wouldn’t kill you or put the feminist cause back to say hello to Alice each morning.’

  ‘Excuse me!’ said a furious voice from the doorway where Alice was suddenly standing. ‘I don’t need you to scrounge up friends for me, Franny, and actually, Ash, I’d have loads of respect for other girls if they didn’t try and slut shame me just because I’m hot and they’re not.’

  I was mortified, though I hadn’t done anything wrong. Not really. I was trying to do a nice thing but it had all backfired. Ash and even Vicky were glaring at Alice and she was glaring back at them and I was caught in the painful epicentre where their glares all collided. ‘But if you take the boy thing out of the equation, then you guys would really get on,’ I bleated.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Ash said, her eyes resting on Alice, who had her hands on her hips and looked like a tiny, furious Valkyrie. ‘We have nothing in common. Not one thing.’

  Because I was looking out for it, I saw the hurt flash up on Alice’s face for a mere nanosecond before she sneered it away. ‘You can say that again. I wouldn’t be seen dead in a flannel shirt. And Franny, I came to tell you to hurry up otherwise you’re going to miss the band, so move it!’

  I moved it. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said as I followed Alice’s stiff back as she stalked through the club. ‘I’m pretty lonely at college and I know you’re lonely too so I just figured that I’d try and find a way to make you, like, less lonely.’

  Alice whipped round. ‘Like I’d want to hang with that bunch of losers and haters.’

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Louis surging through the crowd, the rest of Thee Desperadoes trailing after him. But Louis wasn’t important right now. I turned to Alice, who was standing there, determined to chat this out even though we were right in the middle of the dance floor. ‘Look, we’ve been through this a hundred times. They wouldn’t be haters if you just maybe took a solemn vow that you wouldn’t have anything to do with a boy who you knew was in a relationship.’

  ‘It’s very hard to keep track of these things, Franny,’ Alice said. She held up her iPhone. ‘Am I meant to make a note every time someone from school snogs someone? Or should I just stick to avoiding the male half of couples that have been together longer than a week? Or a fortnight? Or does sending a picture of your tits to a boy mean that you’re in a relationship, because Josie seems to think it does?’

  I wish I’d never started this. ‘I don’t even know why you’d want to get involved with any boy from our school. Even the Year 13s are immature.’

  ‘You got that right,’ Alice muttered. ‘Look, with you not there, the boys are the only ones who will talk to me. And anyway, you’re not lonely. You’ve got Dora, your new best friend.’

  I shook my head. ‘No, she’s not. She’s barely even a friend. She hardly talks to me at all when we’re at college.’

  ‘You’re just saying that.’ Alice didn’t look quite so furious any more.

  ‘I’m not. Why do I even need a new best friend what I have an old best friend who totally rocks… when she’s not being a pain in the arse.’

  ‘Ha! You’re a pain in the arse too!’ Alice scoffed as she tucked her arm into mine. ‘Just as well we’re friends ’cause nobody else would put up with us, right?’

  ‘Their loss,’ I said and I grinned at Alice as we carried on walking. My heart was no longer sinking, but lifting higher and higher. Then suddenly my heart was as free as the birds when two hands shot out to stop me from cannoning right into him and Louis, Louis, looked at me, really looked at me and he smiled and he said, ‘Careful’.

  Our eyes met, even though it was very muted lighting. I could feel the connection between us and his fingers burned where they touched. Yes, I was wearing my Chanel-esque jacket, but it was like we were skin to skin.

  ‘Oh…’

  Then he was gone. He brushed past me and took his heat and his touch away and it was like everything had gone cold and dark.

  My knees were so weak that Alice had to help me across to our table. I sat down so heavily that it jarred my spine and I smiled weakly at Dora, who looked like a very young, very cross Queen Victoria in her big black dress. I was just about to apologise for leaving her on her own for so long when Alice gave me a slow handclap. ‘Wow! You almost managed to speak to Louis this time.’

  ‘“Oh.” I said, “Oh.” Next time I’m planning on a whole sentence with a noun and a verb. Maybe even an adjective if I don’t lose my nerve.’

  Alice shook her head. ‘How can you be the most edgy girl in Merrycliffe…’

  ‘Not the edgiest,’ I protested. ‘I mean, there’s that girl who runs the milk bar on the seafront in summer. She’s a vintage queen…’

  ‘Just ’cause she wears a lot of second-hand tat doesn’t make her edgy,’ Alice insisted. ‘You are really edgy apart from when Louis Allen is within fifty metres of you, then you turn into a complete sap. I’m telling you this because I’m your best friend.’

  Alice was right. It was lame the way Louis reduced me to a wobbly pudding of hormones and girl gloop. I needed to be told so I could at least pretend I wasn’t rendered mute by him the next time our paths crossed.

  Then the strobe light started flashing as it always did, five minutes before the band came on stage.

  ‘We got back just in time!’ I yanked Alice to her feet. Even though she was wearing a HUGE crinoline, I kept forgetting that Dora was still there and looking pretty pissed off that we kept ignoring her. ‘You too.’ I yanked her up as well. ‘Come on, we’re going down the front, but to the right.’

  ‘To the right?’ Dora asked, as I pulled her in that direction.

  ‘Yeah, we don’t want to go right down the front because we’d be the only ones down there and it would look really sad and Louis would know that I have a crush on him,’ I explained as I wedged the three of us into a gap by one of the speakers. Dora groused but I didn’t care because Thee Desperadoes were trooping on stage, shoulders hunched like they were walking in front of a firing squad.

  Sneering Studio Tech crouched down in front of us to mess about with his guitar pedals. He looked up and caught my eye and I wished he hadn’t but then Louis suddenly leapt on to the stage like he’d been jet-propelled.

  SHOWTIME!

  8

  ‘Hello, Merrycliffe! Are you ready to rock?’ Lou
is shouted into his mic.

  He was met with a deathly silence.

  As usual, there were a clump of older indie girls at the front that Alice and I called Thee Desperadettes because they were sad and desperate and followed Louis everywhere – they weren’t even subtle about it. There was also Mark the mad dancer, ready to spring into action in the middle of the dance floor, and the two middle-aged men who went to The Wow every Saturday to leer at girls young enough to be their daughters, but everyone else in the club had now gathered at the bar.

  That didn’t stop Louis. ‘Well, we’re ready to rock! Come on, people!’

  His exuberance was endearing and generally Louis was the bomb. Tonight he was wearing skinny black jeans held up by a big leather belt and a black Motörhead T-shirt. He looked like a lovely, sexy, black-clad angel, I thought as I rummaged in my pocket for a small plastic box.