CRAP CRAP CRAP. I think me and Wesley might have had our first proper serious argument like what you hear relationship experts talk about on morning shows. We don’t normally ever get into arguments ’cos we’re like best friends but tonight was different.
So, OK, this is my fault probably ’cos I am proper stressed out with studying but tonight I’m in my room trying to write an essay about this fat alco bloke called Falstaff in the Shakespeare play Henry IV Part One when I hear our Staffy barking its head off downstairs and Murphy shouting, “All right, Wes, wanna play Killerquest?” and my mother trying to force-feed Wes a boiled tongue sandwich that I know she got on quick sale down at ShopRite and Cava-Sue sticking her beak in about factory farming. Basically, there’s a lot of noise AS BLOODY USUAL.
So I go downstairs and say, “Wesley, what you doing here? I’m studying tonight!”
And he says, “Yeah, you said you’d study for a bit!”
And I say “Nah… I said I was studying all night, I’m doing homework! Homework is IMPORTANT!” And Wesley sort of rolled his eyes and everyone sighed like I was being proper tight, so I storm into the kitchen and Wesley follows and tries to give me a cuddle and I shook him off and said, “You want me to fail my A-Levels, don’t you!” which WAS proper tight, I admit.
So Wesley says, “Course I don’t! I was just passing so I popped in!”
So I says, “Well, DON’T JUST POP IN when I got work to do!” And Wesley looked proper hurt then and he picks up his car keys and storms out of the door and drives off well fast.
“Oh, well done, Shiraz!” my mother shouted, “Go on! Scare him off! You’ll not get another one like him! You’ll end up like your Auntie Annie, you will! She was always scaring men off! Wanting her own way! Where’s she now? Living on her own in Hastings with three cats and a grumbling ovary!”
I stormed through the living room and up the stairs then got under the cover and pulled it over my head and fumed.
I ain’t apologizing. Us Wood women NEVER do.