Friendship Fails of Emma Nash

by Chloe Seager

  Evidence: Navigating friendships is sometimes harder than navigating romantic relationships.

  posted by EditingEmma 13.51

  At Lunch

  Really, really wish I hadn’t invited Charlie to lunch with us. Gracie has gone all silent and weird and keeps giving me what I imagine she thinks are ‘meaningful glances’ but actually just make her look like she really needs the toilet. In between her scrutinizing gaze, and Leon’s glares from across the room, I’m beginning to feel just a little bit persecuted.

  Sacré-bleu! I can’t wait to go home.

  posted by EditingEmma 20.34

  Methods of Stopping Excessive Social Media Use

  So, since discovering my ‘problem’, I have been testing several methods to stop myself obsessing over social media.

  1) Hide Phone From Self

  Doesn’t work for obvious reasons.

  2) Ask Mum To Hide Phone

  Doesn’t work because she gives in when beaten with a pillow.

  3) Use an App Blocker

  Does work but then I just go on my laptop.

  4) Block Sites on Laptop Too

  Does work but then I steal Mum’s phone, which leads to her beating me with a pillow.

  Evidence: Clearly, destroying my phone and laptop is the only answer.

  posted by EditingEmma 23.39

  The Other Method Of Stopping Self-Stalking

  Unfortunately, I think I’ve found a method that works and I really, really wish I hadn’t.

  I want to cry.

  It was on the picture of the dress I made for Battle of the Bands (the one I never actually wore, because no one else liked it).

  I was half watching TV, half refreshing my notifications, when a comment popped up from some user I’ve never seen in my life.

  ‘So desperate for attention what a slag.’

  So desperate for attention?!

  WHAT A SLAG????!!!

  SLAG??!?!?

  I feel so, so upset. I’ve deleted the picture. I don’t even want to look at it. I feel so intruded upon, like they’re sitting here in my bedroom watching me. But also really publicly humiliated – like I’ve been put in the stocks or something. Who else saw the comment before I deleted the picture?!?!

  I clicked on the person, but they had no picture and just a load of numbers as their name. Staring at their faceless profile was making me feel worse, I got so upset I just turned my laptop off.

  I thought, what with all the Leon and Charlie drama, that this day couldn’t get any worse. That almost feels like a happy memory now. Instinctively, I reached for my phone to call Steph and then remembered I couldn’t. Now I feel twice as awful and five times as lonely.

  Put my phone and my laptop at the bottom of my wardrobe. Going to bed.

  Friday, 12 December

  posted by EditingEmma 11.18

  We were all sitting around at break and Gracie said, ‘Are you OK, Emma? You seem a bit down.’

  ‘Oh. I’m… Well, yeah. I am a bit.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing,’ I said.

  ‘Did you see that picture that Abby Matthews uploaded of her new eyelash extensions? I wish my parents would let me get eyelash extensions,’ she huffed.

  ‘Um, no, I didn’t see.’

  Because I never want to go online again. Ever.

  posted by EditingEmma 13.20

  The Difficulty of Les Orgasmes

  At lunchtime, Faith slumped down next to me and Gracie. I was incredibly relieved by her presence, because Gracie kept asking me if I was OK and I really, really don’t want to talk about it.

  ‘I’m having a problem,’ she said.

  ‘Queef?’ I asked.

  ‘No, not that,’ Faith answered.

  ‘What is it?’

  She took a breath, then stopped. ‘I can’t say.’

  ‘Ooookay,’ I said.

  ‘Don’t pressurize me!’ she growled.

  ‘I’m not pressurizing you! You brought it up!’

  She folded her arms. ‘I wasn’t going to say anything, because some things are private. But…’

  Silence.

  ‘Well. When we…you know…I can’t…’

  Gracie and I looked at each other.

  ‘Can’t…?’ I encouraged.

  Faith sighed. ‘When we’re doing stuff, I can’t… I mean… It’s not ending the way I want it to.’

  ‘Ohhhhh,’ me and Gracie said together.

  ‘But that’s fine!’ I said. ‘Don’t freak out. It will happen.’

  ‘It’s all right for you,’ she snapped. ‘You could probably have an orgasm if you accidentally sat on a remote control.’

  ‘Woah!’ I sat back, out of the firing line. ‘Please don’t take this out on me and my vagina.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ She sighed. ‘I’m just jealous. It seems easier for some people. It’s so unfair.’

  ‘I think it’s definitely easier for guys,’ said Gracie. ‘And Emma, obvs. But I think it’s normal for girls. Some can’t at all.’

  ‘Really?’ asked Faith.

  Gracie nodded. ‘And you can, right?’

  ‘I definitely can. But why not with Claudia?’

  ‘What do you think, Emma? What’s the secret?’ asked Gracie.

  ‘WHY does everyone think it’s so easy for me?!’ I gaped.

  They just looked at me.

  ‘Six in half an hour?’ Faith said.

  ‘Yeah, all right, on my own maybe!! But not with Greg!’

  ‘I think it’s to do with being relaxed,’ said Gracie. ‘Emma’s very relaxed.’

  ‘Relaxed?!’ I exclaimed. ‘Because all relaxed people keep a collection of a boy’s Chewit wrappers under their bed and sit around crying over them.’

  Thank God Mum accidentally threw those away.

  She bit her lip. ‘All right, well, not relaxed about Leon. But generally. I mean, you shrug things off pretty quick. You’re kind of confident.’

  ‘Confident?!’ I shrieked. ‘I’m incredibly awkward, the ENTIRE time.’

  ‘Yes, but you’re um…confident in your awkwardness.’

  I shook my head. ‘Faith’s confident too. I’m not sure that has anything to do with it. I think it’s just physical.’

  ‘Maybe it’s a mixture of things,’ said Gracie.

  Normally, I’d be quite pleased if someone called me ‘confident’. But I feel like a fraud. This whole time I’ve been sitting here half listening to my friends and half thinking about what other mean comments might have popped up on my blog or if anyone else is looking at me thinking horrible things and judging my pictures.

  I’m not confident at all.

  posted by EditingEmma 21.05

  I’m Scared Of My Blog

  So, not this blog, obviously, because it’s private. But my other blog. The one with the comment on it. I haven’t looked at it since the comment. And I keep reminding myself that it’s probably just one comment and I deleted it, and now I can probably just forget about it.

  So why am I still so terrified of logging on?

  posted by EditingEmma 21.59

  That’s Why

  I don’t believe it. I finally just worked myself up to log on again, telling myself I was being stupid, and there, sitting on a different photograph, is another comment from the same user.

  So fake, slut

  So fake, slut. The words are echoing round and round my blog that only ever made me feel safe. Round and round in my head. Round and round in my bedroom. Round and round my wardrobe, full of the clothes that up until now only made me feel good about myself.

  Who is this person?! Why are they doing this? I don’t even want to know. I don’t want to think about it. I blocked the account, snapped the laptop shut and pushed it away from me. I’m never, ever going back on there. I never want to look there again.

  Suddenly my homey little corner of the internet, which I made to express myself and feel happy, has become a snake pit. My laptop and my phone are glinti
ng at me from the corner of the room, and suddenly they don’t feel like tools to build myself up, they feel like a portal for people to come and tear me down.

  posted by EditingEmma 23.28

  I’ve had a little cry but I feel a little calmer, now. I’m never, ever going online again. All I’ve been doing is obsessing over myself on there anyway comparing myself to people…measuring how much attention I’m getting…and for what? For me to make myself feel like crap, and for random people to make me feel like crap? This was never what it was supposed to be for, and clearly, the only solution is to never go on there again.

  I’m clinging to my bed, to my real, solid bed, where no one can ever hurt me and no one’s words can reach me.

  Saturday, 13 December

  posted by EditingEmma 14.07

  Feeling a bit better today. Instead of using my time online or making more ‘slaggy’ outfits, I’ve been spending it wisely doing extra French homework. Also, because Mum’s friend Heather is here, and it’s hard to keep feeling gloomy around Heather. They’re going to Graham’s exhibition tonight and she’s ridiculously excitable.

  ‘Oh, but do you think what I’m wearing is all right? I was going for “leek” but I’m not sure I pull it off.’

  ‘Um…’ said Mum.

  ‘I’ve been studying miscategorized vegetables in preparation. Did you know that a tomato is actually a fruit?’

  ‘Um…’

  I could genuinely listen to this all day.

  posted by EditingEmma 15.25

  Hurluberlu Holly

  It strikes me, learning all this French, just how limiting the English language really is. I have just discovered the world ‘hurluberlu’ which can be used to describe an eccentric, scatterbrained person. This fits Holly much better than ‘crazy’ which has many different meanings.

  Like, why do we only have one word for love? The way I loved Leon, for instance, is very different to the way I love Faith or Gracie.

  Not that I loved Leon. Stop right there, brain.

  posted by EditingEmma 17.03

  Mum and Heather came back from their walk. Apparently, a crow swooped down and ‘attacked’ Heather outside the café. For the past twenty minutes, Heather’s been sitting by the window, glancing furtively outside, as if it might be out there waiting for her.

  ‘I just can’t believe it,’ she kept saying.‘Did you see its eyes, Allie?’

  Mum ignored her.

  ‘What film shall we watch?’ she asked.

  ‘The Birds?’ I suggested.

  Mum threw me a terrible glare.

  ‘Oh, by the way, I rang up Steph’s mum and she thought it was a good idea too. So Steph’s going to come along.’

  ‘You did WHAT?!’ I bellowed.

  ‘I’m sorry, Emma. Personal safety is more important than your silly little fight,’ she said smugly. ‘And Steph’s mum agrees.’

  Oh this is unbelievable.

  ‘Mum, are you serious?! I’m sixteen, not six. I don’t need you to get involved with my friends. Oh my God… I can’t believe you called Steph’s mum!!!’

  ‘As I said, it’s about personal safety, not you.’

  ‘Oh whatever!’ I snapped. ‘Why don’t you just stick us in a sandpit and tell us to play nicely!’

  Mum just smiled.

  I don’t believe this.

  Apparently, as a result of Heather’s ‘traumatic experience’, she’s decided to join us for self-defence tomorrow as well. Huzzah.

  Sunday, 14 December

  posted by EditingEmma 08.01

  Wham Bam Sam Is Not Sam

  Ugh. It’s so EARLY. And I’m expected to be ACTIVE. I probably wouldn’t even be properly active if you put me on a racetrack, rose the guy from Saw, told him I was fair game if he caught me and then said ‘GO.’ I’d probably just accept my fate and have a Yorkie bar.

  It’s been quite awkward with Steph so far. She smiled at me when she got in the car but then went straight on her phone, so I’ve obviously been obsessing over whether she’s sending messages to Andy like ‘omg I’m so bored’ or ‘wish I was with you instead’. Thankfully the drive wasn’t that long.

  When we walked in, we were greeted by a very enthusiastic man. He shouted, ‘WELCOME’ so loudly and so close to my ear, I wondered if it was part of the class and if I was supposed to elbow him in the stomach, or something. Thankfully I didn’t. Mum said,

  ‘Hello, are you Sam?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, my name’s Gary. But that doesn’t rhyme with Wham Bam.’

  posted by EditingEmma 08.10

  I really, really wish I had elbowed Scarily Intense Gary. He made us sit in a circle and go round introducing ourselves so that we feel ‘comfortable’. I’m pretty sure this tactic has made approximately zero people feel comfortable, ever, in all the time it’s been used by sadistic or clueless teachers.

  First was a guy so unimaginably large, you wondered who would ever dare start a fight with him. He even called himself ‘Big Dave’.

  Mum whispered, ‘I don’t want to stereotype or anything, but…Why is he here? His hand is the size of my head.’

  I was about to answer when Gary landed on me.

  ‘And what’s your name?’ he asked, looking deep into my eyes.

  ‘Um, Emma.’

  ‘And why are you here today, Emma?’

  ‘Um, because pepper spray is illegal,’ I said, and he ROARED with laughter.

  I honestly wasn’t trying to be funny.

  He moved on to Heather, next.

  ‘And what brings you here today, Heather?’

  ‘I had quite a nasty attack, actually,’ she answered.

  ‘I’m so sorry to hear that,’ said Gary, full of concern.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Heather. ‘Yes, it was quite traumatic.’

  Gary nodded.

  ‘I can’t get it out of my mind, you know. I just keep going over it.’

  Mum started waving her arms behind Gary’s back, mouthing, ‘STOP, STOP,’ at Heather, but she didn’t seem to get it.

  ‘And I’d like to prepare myself, you know, for the future.’

  ‘I can only imagine what that experience must have been like, and how it must have impacted you,’ said Gary, gravely. ‘But you’ve come to the right place, and we can begin to help you feel safer and more able to protect yourself, should the situation arise again. If you ever need to talk, we have a variety of leaflets in reception and can help you find the right place to turn to.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Heather, tears in her eyes.

  Mum put her head in her hands.

  The next person in the group was a guy called Liam, and he had genuinely been attacked, and as he was talking Heather kept nodding at him like she really understood what he was going through.

  Seven hours and fifty minutes left of this.

  posted by EditingEmma 11.05

  And now the fun really begins. After three hours of ‘security theory and the study of victim/prey mentality and body language’, which I think basically amounted to ‘don’t walk around with both your headphones in’, we’ve come outside to begin training.

  I don’t know if I can do this. Potentially it would be safer for me to break into Mum’s car and attempt to drive it home, without one single driving lesson, than to be matched against Big Dave.

  posted by EditingEmma 11.47

  As it turns out, I CAN do this. It’s just a lot of shouting ‘NO’ and then taking a step back, which I’m very, very good at. Also, and I wouldn’t tell Mum this because she’d be all smug, but doing an activity together has momentarily made things seem almost normal with me and Steph…

  ‘I thought we’d be, like, learning to karate chop people or something,’ she said, huffing and folding her arms.

  ‘Me too!’ I said gleefully. ‘Come on, Steph, advance towards me please.’

  She sighed. ‘You’re enjoying this way too much.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry. Sad we’ve found a sport I’m better at than you?�
��

  She snorted. ‘Whatever this is, it isn’t a sport.’

  She reluctantly took a step forwards.

  I sprung back.‘GET AWAYYYYYYYYY!’ I screamed, startling Heather, who had been beside us quietly hissing ‘No! Noo!’ at Mum.

  ‘Very nice work!’ Gary strode over to us.

  ‘Now look what you’ve done,’ said Steph,‘you’ve attracted Scary Intense Gary.’

  ‘Jealous?’ I asked.

  Gary approached, and patted me on the back. ‘A star for effort,’ he said to me.

  Steph rolled her eyes. God I miss her eye-rolling. It felt so, so good to hang out together that even when she accidentally kicked me I laughed with joy. Disgusting.

  posted by EditingEmma 16.39

  Driving Home

  The rest of the day was FAR less easy and Steph obviously excelled where I kept falling over, so all was right with the world again.

  ‘Right, team,’ Gary said, rubbing his hands together. ‘Now I’m going to show you how to safely bring an attacker to the floor, without causing physical harm. So, volunteers?’

  Big Dave raised his hand.

  ‘And another?’

  Everyone else looked resolutely at the floor. Heather whimpered.

  ‘OK, hmm, how about…’

  Not me not me not me not me.

  ‘Emma.’

  Crap.

  ‘You were so enthusiastic during phase one: voice commands. Let’s see what you’ve got.’

  Oh God.

  I looked desperately at Mum, my most darling and dearest parent. She brought me into this world, so she must surely care about whether I stay in it, right? I felt certain she’d call out, ‘I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE,’ and I would graciously allow her to take my place, whilst also pretending to be distraught. I would salute her and wish her luck. ‘May the odds be ever in your favour’ etc., etc. BUT NO. She kept her eyes firmly on the ground.

  At least now I know where I stand, should there ever be an apocalypse.

  I approached Big Dave, who really did look bigger than ever close up. He smiled down at me in what I imagine he thought was a reassuring way, but with his head blocking out the sun and his entire face in shadow, looked vaguely demonic.