Withering Tights - By Louise Rennison Page 0,22

but…

I realise that in one day I’ve had more boy fun than I have had in fourteen and a half years. Today has made the bottom-touching kitbag incident fade into insignificance.

I LOVE Yorkshire. I do. I really do.

CHAPTER 8

I’m not an Irish dancing broom

I’m a human being

Icannot believe that Ruby has got such a gorgeous brother.

Alex.

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

I thought, I can hardly believe that a whole week has gone by.

A whole week since I first came to Dother Hall and nearly a whole day since I’ve seen Alex.

I have decided to wear my green top and tight zip-sided jeans. And a little cardi. And the flip flops that Dad brought me back from Brazil. They are gold.

My hair is bouncy today. Should I backcomb the top bit to give it a bit more umph?

As I looked in the bathroom mirror, the sun shone and beamed into my eyes. They gave me a bit of a turn. They do look very green indeed today. Funny to look at your own eyes and think, crumbs that’s a bit green.

Hey and hang on a minute, I think, maybe, when I look closely I can see little tiny bumps under my T-shirt. Woo-hoo! At this rate I might even be able to buy a bra by the time I am forty. Just in time for my pension.

Still, it’s a start.

Two starts actually.

I went downstairs to the kitchen to find Dibdobs in ginormous shorts and a cowboy hat with bits of rope on it.

She looked up and gave me a salute. “Dib dib dib, Tallulah.”

She put two boiled eggs on the table for me. They had little bobble hat things to keep them warm. Still, as I now know, we are all eggs deep down. Did that make it cannibalism if I ate them?

I removed an egg hat to smash its head in and Dibdobs said, “Harold made the egg hats. I did tell you we’re going away this weekend. It’s the Brownies camp for me and the boys. It’s the tiddlywinks grand final, so it’s all tension.”

I started to say, “I haven’t got my tiddles, um, or is it winks, so I couldn’t possibly—”

She was smiling, “And Harold is going into the woods with his Iron Man group.”

His what?

I said, “Well that sounds…wizard.”

Dibdobs came and gave me a big hug. “I thought you would like to be with Vaisey, so I’ve arranged for you to stay at The Blind Pig – pop round there after college tonight.”

I was doing secret inward sniggering. And a secret inward voice in my head was saying (in a strange breathy voice…) Yes, yessss, I will pop round to The Blind Pig. I will ‘pop’ round because guess who lives at The Blind Pig? It is not a blind pig, it is Alex. Alex, the best-looking boy in the universe. Alex, who said I had a cool name. Alex who…

And that is when the twins came in, both in huge shorts.

They came and stood an inch away from me to do their silent looking.

But I was too happy to be freaked out by them.

So I smiled at them in between mouthfuls of eggy.

They did what they think is smiling back.

The wobbly teefs have gone, so now when they smile it’s like looking at sock creatures. If you can imagine that.

I left the house a bit earlier than I needed to, so that I could get to the pub and maybe accidentally on purpose bump into Alex. But Vaisey was already sitting on the wall waiting for me. Just as well, really, I would have probably said something insane and fallen over a leaf if I’d seen him.

And to be honest, he only said I had a cool name.

We mooched to Dother Hall and as it loomed into view I remembered that we had Dr Lightowler for two hours. The roof still had its bit of old blanket flapping about. Mrs Rochester is not a highly-skilled worker. I hope for the girls’ sakes it doesn’t rain anytime soon.

After registration we crowded into the studio for Bob’s ‘talk’ on music and music technology.

I couldn’t help noticing that his ponytail, burnt off in the dorm inferno, seems to have grown back. Twice the length.

I whispered to Flossie, “He’s wearing a false ponytail.”

Bob gave us the benefit of his many years ‘on the road’ with bands.

“Listen up, dudes. Yes, I’ve toured with some of the greats. The legends. I’ve done all the big gigs: Wembo, Glasto.”

Glasto? Wembo?

Bob looked at us.

“The Glastonbury.”

Vaisey said, “Which bands did