Dear Book,
They say the first thing men/boys notice in women/girls is their eyes. Which is code for breasts. I am not sure if this is true, but I would be interested to find out. I know when I look at boys, I don't instantly stare at their... package. I've seen Josh's package. Oh no, it starts here...
More importantly, I have failed my maths exam. See, I'm not thinking about Josh. Damn! Well I am now, but I have decided not to write about him today because he's... (gritting teeth) not worth the effort.
I got a C. Which is not technically a fail, but everyone else in my group got at least a B (mainly A's), so I am feeling more than a bit stupid. I have never been good at Maths, it's just that simple. But it still annoys me because I worked really hard; and I thought I would do better.
Anyway, I have resigned myself to the fact that I shall not be a Maths Professor any time soon. Who cares anyway? Josh likes maths... Shit!
Honestly though, if I stop and think about all the things we DIDN'T have in common, I can't understand how we got together in the first place. Well there's an interesting thing...
A white plaque read 11MCA on the form room door. Every high school year, I had had the misfortune to change form groups. The people were the same, but the teachers were always different. This year, we had been blessed with Mr Lawson. He was the sort of teacher you could look at and you would feel a warm, wet sensation coming from somewhere. (I am not specifying which 'somewhere' you can work that out for yourselves.) Anyway, he was the preppy sort of teacher, always smartly dressed. Young. Brown hair, blue eyes. Just the right amount of stubble. And the best bit: when he leant over, his shirt would ride up a bit and reveal the bare skin of his lower back. Now, I am not the sort of person into fetishes, but there is something about lower back on boys and men. Do you know what I mean?
I had a discussion about this with my best friend, Jenny.
"I have no idea what your talking about," she shook her head, regarding me as if I were some sort of alien. Jenny was beautiful, you couldn't deny that. She was blonde, leggy - too stereotypical for words.
"Well, don't you find when you see that little bit of skin..." I indicated the amount with my fingers. "...it's just so attractive!" I concluded.
Jenny arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow at me. "You've seriously lost it. Try looking at the front, that's the more interesting part," and she winked at me. Disgusting. (Yet true.) We're back to packages again aren't we.
"Do you know, a boy once caught me staring at his, area..." she cleared her throat. "...and then he jokingly asked me if I worked for UPS, I couldn't get over his ego. Neither could he," Jenny added. I considered this for a moment.
"Jenny, that boy was George, your boyfriend," I reminded her.
"Yeah, but we broke up," she shrugged defensively.
"You mean he dumped you." I couldn't believe the words that were coming out of my mouth.
Jenny looked at me, eyes wide, seemingly considering her retort.
"Takes one to know one. How are you coping with the whole Josh situation anyway?" she narrowed her eyes at me. That was mean.
Yet another thing I hate about girls: bitchiness.
I have three questions regarding this matter:
1. Why do girls never say what they really mean?
2. Why do girls hold grudges?
3. If girls are going to fight, for Pete's sake, why can't they punch each properly as opposed to pulling each other's hair and scratching with their nails? (It's pathetic.)
In truth, I was not coping with the Josh situation at all. Because I was ignoring it. I'd reasoned this would be an accurate male approach.
"Hey ho, you'll find someone else anyway. Eventually," Jenny continued. Ow... that was harsh.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence. I am in no hurry to get another boyfriend anyway. It's pointless and too much hard work, plus, we have exams to prepare for," I added, to Jenny's groan.
Before she could say anything else we arrived at 11MCA; and saw Mr Lawson as we approached.
"Good morning girls, in and seated quickly please, we're late for assembly." I brushed against his toned torso as I entered form. Strangely, all thoughts of Josh had gone from my mind.
What I mean is things like how she writes the dialogue. Now, when I write in my diary, journal, book thing, I really do not seem anywhere near a writer... Maybe it's just me, but recapping convosations ends up... Bad, somthing very, unreadable.
Points: 893
Reviews: 69
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