Dear Diary
Dear Diary,
(If you are reading this Jamie, piss off, this is none of your business and if I find out you read this I will tell Tarnya you dream about her every night, moaning her name so loud it wakes up the dog. Go on. Try me. I dare you.)
Today at school Michelle, Naomi, Gemma, Lucy, Kira and me talked about which movies we were going to see in the holidays, and which subjects we would take next year. Gemma is so serious. She’s taking maths 1 & 2, physics, chem and for a lark, biology. She wants to be an engineer. Sounds like my idea of hell, but then I guess my subjects probably sound like hell to her.
Okay. That’s probably enough to have bored Jamie by now. But IF you are still reading this Jamie, this is your last chance. You bloody better piss off. Or the wrath will come down upon thee.
At lunch time today Tarnya came up to us and asked about Jamie. She’s a year above us so it’s strange that she would speak to us at all – no one ever speaks to anyone below their year level unless it’s with some evil purpose. She has this stride about her – long, fast steps, like she’s in a hurry and she’s going to mow down anyone in her path. It screams – get outta my way, punk! So naturally, when she walked up to us, we all parted like the Red Sea to make room for her to pass. But she didn’t. She stopped just in front of me and started talking.
‘Are you Poppy, Jamie’s little sister?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Does he have a girlfriend?’
‘How would I know? I’m not his keeper.’
I felt totally badass saying that to Tarnya, but I didn’t like the way she just strode up to me and demanded personal information. Who did she think she was?
‘Well, do you think you could find out?’ she snarled at me.
‘Who’s asking?’ I said.
‘That’s need to know – and you don’t need to know.’
‘No deal,’ I said.
I turned back to the girls and saw their expressions – fear mixed with awe. It made me smile. High school sucks – all these hierarchies and rules about who you are allowed to talk to. I’m over it and I’m not playing anymore.
I heard Tarnya stalk off. Good. She could stew for a while.
(Same deal, Jamie. Piss off. Or I will tell Tarnya you have an eye for the boys.)
Today, Tarnya’s friend came up to us. I don’t know her name.
‘So what gives? How come you won’t tell Tarnya if he has a gf?’
‘Why doesn’t she ask him herself? He’s got ears and a mouth. He can talk for himself.’
‘You don’t know anything, do you? You’re such a baby, Poppy.’
‘I’m the baby?’
That really made me laugh – I’m the baby in this scenario?
I might only be fourteen but I am so much older than high school.
The friend strode off, without even half the attitude of Tarnya. Clearly had a long way to go in bitch training.
Dear Diary,
(Piss off Jamie, or I will tell Tarnya you have herpes. Which you caught off the dog. I mean it.)
Well today was one for the books. Jamie walked up to Tarnya at lunchtime. Michelle, Naomi, Gemma, Lucy and I were watching from across the courtyard. Jamie walked straight up to her like he had balls of steel, all macho-like and confident. Chest puffed out, hair slicked back, walking like a giant. I couldn’t hear what was said, of course, but I can guess. Here’s how it would have gone.
‘Who are you?’
‘Jamie. We’ve got history together.’
Pause.
‘I, ah, I mean the class. With Mr Edleston?’
Beat.
‘So?’
‘So, I was wondering if, you know, you’d like to go see a movie this weekend?’
‘With you?’
‘Yeah, with me.’
‘I’ve got a boyfriend, doofus. What did you say your name was again? Jamie? I might just tell Nathaniel you’re hitting on me.’
(I don’t know her boyfriend’s name. They say he goes to Saints. I’m sure he’d have to have a tosser name like Nathaniel.)
‘Sorry, I didn’t know... I’ll just leave you alone.’
‘Too fucken right you will,’ Tarnya said with a flick of her hair (this part I saw, from across the courtyard, so I know she did that).
That’s when you turned and walked away, didn’t you Jamie?
So from now on, when I say DON’T READ MY DIARY I mean it. PISS OFF!