‘… then he ate my boy entrancers.’. Louise Rennison

then, I am going to take a “capsule” wardrobe. It’s what Naomi Campbell and all the top models do. They just take the absolute essentials with them when they travel.

      12:00 p.m.

      I’m exhausted, but I have managed to whittle my capsule wardrobe down to six cases.

      12:01 p.m.

      And a rucksack.

      12:03 p.m.

      Apart from my shoes, which I can’t get in, but Mum will probably put them in her case.

      12:30 p.m.

      Nobody has yet told Libby that Angus and Gordy are not coming with us on our holidays.

      12:35 p.m.

      When someone does tell her, I’ll tell you one thing for free – it will not be me. I need all my limbs for my Luuurve Quest.

      12:40 p.m.

      Libby has made Gordy a paper bikini for his holidays, which might come in handy if he were coming on holiday.

      And cats wore bikinis.

      And if he hadn’t immediately destroyed it and then buried it in the rubber plant.

      Sunday May 15th

      Seven days to Hamburger-a-gogo land Midday

      I hate my dad. He is so unreasonable. It’s like dealing with a spoiled child.

      I asked Mum if she would be so kind as to slip my shoes in her case, and all hell broke loose.

      Dad said, “Why don’t you put them in your case?”

      And I said, “Because, Father, all of my cases are full.”

      Vati came stropping into my bedroom, saw my cases, and said, “Don’t be ridiculous! You can take one case. That is it.”

      I said, “Excuse me if I’m right, Dad, but do you want me to look like a poor person in front of the Hamburgese? I am representing the English nation abroad.”

      But you might as well be talking to yourself.

      2:00 p.m.

      I’ve repacked, but there are still three cases of essentials. Sacré bloody bleu.

      Jas phoned to tell me that she told Hunky about her trip and he has had the boy version of a nervy spaz. He phoned her eighteen times in two hours.

      “He was so upset.”

      “Yes, you said.”

      “Really really upset. He phoned me eighteen times in two hours.”

      “Er…I know.”

      “Eighteen times.”

      “Wow…How many times did you say he phoned?”

      I said it ironically, but Jas didn’t get it. She just went on and on. “Eighteen times, and then he came round this morning really early and posted a love-poem-song-type thing through my door.”

      Oh no. Not a love poem.

      “Do you want to hear it?”

      “No.”

      “It’s called, ‘You are the only fish in my sea’.

      Good Lord. Tom’s whole family is obsessed with livestock.

      To cheer her up and to get me out of my packing nightmare scenario I called a gang meeting.

      The park, sitting on the swings 4:30 p.m.

      Jas has read her poem to everyone, so I hope she’s got it out of her system now. It is truly crap. That is a fact. But I didn’t say so; I wanted Jas to perk up for our big adventure. I was soooo excited, and I was standing up swinging on a swing, singing “I want to be in America! Everything’s free in America!!!”

      Then Ellen said, “Georgia, have you actually snogged Masimo yet?”

      I laughed in a sultry way. “Have I snogged Masimo? Have I—”

      Jas said, “No, she hasn’t. Well, not unless you count two seconds, which I don’t, and anyway it’s not on the snogging scale, so it’s not…on the…snogging scale.”

      Oh, thanks, bestest pally NOT. I wish I had told her what I thought about Fish Boy’s poem now.

      Jools said, “Do you think Wet Lindsay has snogged him? You know, when they went to Late and Live. She must have, you know…wanted to.”

      Ohhhnooo. Get out of my head.

      I said, “Who in their right mind would snog Wet Lindsay?”

      Jools said, “Well, actually, Robbie must have snogged her because they went out together and—”

      I started humming in my head so I didn’t have to listen to this; it was making me feel quite sick.

      Jas said, “Perhaps some kinds of boys like tiny foreheads. Tom said that he knows a boy who’s mad for girls who wear really thick glasses.”

      Good grief. Still, at least, there was a chance for Nauseating P. Green.

      Ellen was obviously in her own dream world. “That mate of Tom’s – Speedy – asked me out when I was down the square, but…oh…I don’t know, it’s just there is something. I mean, he’s nice but I still…you know…have feelings for…well, you know…Do you think?”

      I said, “Can I ask you something, Ellen? What are you raving on about?”

      I wished I hadn’t asked.

      “I mean Dave the Laugh. Is he going out with Rachel still…or…er…what?”

      Jas said, “He wasn’t with her when we saw him the other day, was he, Gee? Did he mention her when you went for a coffee?”

      Oh shutupshutup about Dave the sodding Laugh.

      Ellen was just about to start the “I didn’t know that you saw Dave the Laugh, what did you talk about, did he mention me, how come you went for a coffee with him?” scenario when Mabs saved my bacon (ish).

      She said, “How do you know that Masimo wants to see you?”

      “Well, he asked me for my telephone number and I couldn’t give it to him because my head was about to drop off from redness. So he said, “OK, Miss Hard to Get, I will see you later, when I get back from America.”

      Ellen was looking at me. “So he said ‘See you later’ then?”

      I said, “No, not just ‘see you later’ like in ‘s’later’ but more—”

      But Ellen was locked into her own ramblosity. “Dave the Laugh said ‘see you later’ to me and I did the flicky hair and everything and dancing by myself and so on…and then he went off with Rachel.”

      The gang started nodding wisely (not).

      I said, “Yes, but Masimo said ‘see you later’ after I had become Mystery Woman.”

      Rosie said, “Mystery Woman?”

      “Yes, after I had accidentally treated him to my glaciosity.”

      Rosie had her face really close to mine.

      “You are Mystery Woman?”

      All the gang looked at me.

      Jools said,