putting the wedding together for us,’ Helena explained, flicking through a bridal magazine. ‘I make all the decisions, they do all the work.’
‘We make all the decisions,’ Dad corrected. Helena ignored him, engrossed by a feature on cake.
‘Why were you leaning against the door?’ Marianne asked. ‘Why weren’t you just opening it?’
‘Because . . . we were chatting.’ I shrugged and kicked off my shoes. ‘I’m going to go upstairs and change.’
‘Oh my goodness,’ Marianne gasped. ‘Was he about to kiss you?’
‘What? No!’ I blushed furiously.
‘He totally was! You’ve gone bright red!’ She squealed. ‘You guys!’
‘No, he wasn’t. We were chatting,’ I explained to the room. ‘There was no kissing, or attempted kissing.’
‘I should hope not,’ Dad went all huffily. ‘You’re only fourteen.’
‘Oh Nick.’ Marianne looked at him sympathetically. ‘You’re so naive.’
‘Look, there was no kissing and there probably never will be,’ I announced, standing up. ‘Everyone at school has seen the plant pot video. Including Connor.’
‘Connor doesn’t care about plant pots,’ Marianne said smugly. ‘He’s just potty about you.’
‘Very nice, how long have you been waiting to say that?’
‘Basically since the video went viral. But I needed the right moment. Don’t worry about it, he’ll kiss you soon enough.’ Marianne winked.
‘Not under my roof. And I think Anna’s mother would agree with me too,’ Dad added.
Marianne snorted. I knew what she meant. My mum and dad had never actually been married, or even really together, and they were both very happy with this arrangement. Mum was what you might call a free spirit, and me kissing a boy was something I suspected she would have been delighted at, especially as she kept telling her friends that, unlike her, I was a ‘late bloomer’. Mortifying. She and Helena were just as bad as each other when it came to the topic of my barely-existent love life.
‘Everyone!’ Helena suddenly exclaimed from where she was perched on the end of the sofa. She held up her magazine for us all to see. ‘How do we all feel about exploding cakes?’
From: [email protected]
Subject: YAWN
OK, where are you? It does NOT take this long to walk back to your house, even if you’re distracted by . . . oh, I don’t know . . . KISSING A BOY????
Come on. Spill. And make it snappy. Mum keeps yelling at me because she can’t find the power button on the TV controller.
J x
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: YAWN
There was no kissing. I fell through the front door.
Love, me xxx
From: [email protected]
Subject: Wow
You fell through the front door. Seriously?
What is wrong with you?
J x
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Wow
I’ve been asking myself that question a lot this evening.
Love, me xxx
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