The Dates.

Monday. Another early morning start for me, since Jake decided to make another appearance to prepare me for the oncoming interviews this week. I really have to tell him to stop coming around so much. I was more surprised by the fact that he (or anyone) could function for a whole day after getting up so early. Did he wake up at the crack of dawn or something?

"Guess who's back with a brand new rap." Jake called as he made his way into my room. I groaned, feeling the customary bag of doughnuts land on my head through my makeshift shield - my duvet.

"Really? You're rapping now? What happened to Eye Of The Tiger? Finally realised it sucks?" I moaned, flipping onto my back and dragging the doughnuts off my pillow. "And don't you worry you'll get fat eating all this crap, all the time?"

Jake was searching through his bag as I said this, probably whipping out some strategies for dealing with the rest of my interviewees.

"Fat? Dude. You're kidding, right?" he said, yanking out a comb, some hair gel and a tie. I stared at the objects, confused. I've never seen Jake comb his hair in my entire life. "And Eye Of The Tiger? Don't even go there or I'll open up a can of whoop ass on you."

I chucked the doughnuts back at him, throwing my bare legs out of the bed. I only had shorts on. I checked the time (seven in the morning - what the hell is wrong with him?) and pointed at the crap he was assembling on my bed.

"A comb? Gel? A freaking tie? What are you up to?"

He grinned at me. "I had a brainwave. If I keep getting these brilliant ideas, I swear to God I better get a medal or something because I am da bomb...but I digress. These -" he held up the gel and the comb. " - these, my friend, are for you.

I waited for the punchline but it didn't come. He just sat there on my bed, smiling like a goofball with those ridiculous items in his hands. I raised an eyebrow at him, looking from the comb, to his face, to the gel and back again.

"...You're serious?" I finally managed to say, dragging my fingers through my hair cautiously. They quickly got caught in the lugs and I felt my stomach drop, staring at that comb like it was the bringer of death. "Have you...you've seen my hair, right?"

Jake jumped up and walked around the bed towards me. Instinctively, I recoiled away from him and dived to the other side. We watched each other from across the room, him poised and ready for action, myself shivering slightly at my lack of dress.

"Duh, 'course I've seen your hair. How do you think I came up with the idea?" Jake laughed, waggling the comb around in his hand at me. "Now just step on back here and we can deal with it. I've seen people brush their hair before, we can totally do this. Girls brush their hair like, all the time and stuff. How hard can it be?"

Silence. Jake considered my obvious disapproval of his plan and he dropped the comb and gel onto my bed, surrendering. He let out a loud sigh and scratched the back of his head, swiftly making his way towards my bedroom door. I stared at him questioningly.

"Too bad you won't go through with it. I messaged Angelica Hall last night, telling her that her interview was today. I dunno, I guess you can turn up with your hair like that. I'm sure she'll dig it, maybe she's into a guy with a birds nest on his head?"

I glared at the comb on my sheets, thinking about it for a moment and hating Jake the whole time. "Fine. Just let me get changed first, okay? I'm starting to freeze over here."

7:14 a.m. Home:

"ARGH!" I yelled, sinking my nails into my leg.

Jake was furiously dragging the comb through my hair, struggling as he battled the knots tangling through the teeth. He yanked roughly, nearly ripping my head off, and dumped some hair gel on the top of my head.

"Maybe it'll loosen up with some product? You know when something gets caught in a tight space, people use butter or whatever to slide it right out? Maybe that's how your hair works, too." he said, his voice straining as he pulled on the comb again. I didn't feel too confident about the outcome.

He tugged at my hair again and I hissed in pain.

"JESUS, JAKE! GET THAT GOD DAMN COMB OUT OF MY HAIR RIGHT NOW!"

7:35 a.m. Home:

There's no need to freak out. I only had a freaking comb stuck in my hair and there's just under an hour before we had to head to school. That's plenty of time to get it sorted, right? I just had to trust Jake to fix the problem he created, then we can go on our merry way to school.

"Man, that's stuck in there tight." he muttered, examining my head with a curious expression. "Damn, you have some serious hair issues, mate."

I gritted my teeth, trying not to throttle him.

7:55 a.m. Home:

God. There's half an hour left on the clock before we have to go and I'm still sat with this comb stuck out of my head like some weird-ass Lady GaGa accessory. Jake had sought expertise from my mother and they both looked down at my hair in what I can only describe as horror. My mum was holding something behind her back and I leaned over to get a good look.

"What's that?" I asked nervously, made more anxious by the way she's purposely hiding whatever she had.

She ignored my question and turned to Jake. "What on earth were you two thinking? A comb, through that hair? There's only one solution."

Jake nodded with grim determination and smiled apologetically at me. I didn't like it.

"Yep. Only one thing to do, buddy." he said, moving aside to let my mum closer. My face drained when I saw what she was pulling out from behind her back.

"Scissors? It's that bad? I'll just go to school with the comb, okay?" I begged, shrinking away from the flash of metal.

Mum shook her head, smiled down at me and started to hack away at my hair.

8:45 a.m. School:

Jake was walking behind me, I could tell he was scrutinising my mother's handiwork but I was too mortified to tell him to back off. From what I gathered, she managed to cut out most of the comb but there were still bits of broken plastic scattered through my hair. I had to get through an interview with Angelica Hall whilst there were pieces of comb sticking out of my skull. I hated Jake.

He opened his mouth to talk.

"Not a word. Not one freaking word from you. I still have the urge to deck you." I warned, hiking my bag up my back further.

"But - " he started but I growled at him.

"No."

"But, look - "

"I said no, Jake!"

"Emma's waving at us!" he blurted out, beginning to walk over to her. He stopped short and I clashed with him, nearly tripping up in front of everyone in the corridor.

He turned to me, his eyes wide. "You sure you're okay with me and her?"

The question threw me. I hadn't expected it but I had my answer in an instant. He looked so worried that my anger with him evaporated. Why did he still think I was so against him and Emma?

"Of course, mate. I told you. It's cool." I assured him. "You're my best friends."

Jake smiled and raised his hand, looking like he was aiming for a grateful hug. He thought better of it though; halfway through, his hand changed direction and slapped my back. We looked away in different directions at the same time, uncomfortable with expressing our feelings.

"Cheers, And." he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Didn't need your approval or anything. Just thought I'd ask, is all. I'm my own man, date who I want and all that."

"Yeah, cool. Totally." I answered, coughing awkwardly. "Let's, uh - let's go over to Emma. Still need to go over what to do in Angelica's interview."

Jake dropped all embarrassment and became enthusiastic again. "Yeah, man. On a scale of one to ten in hotness, she's on par with the sun." He stopped short as we approached Emma. One look at her face and I knew she heard our conversation. "But, you know, I have Emma. It's like, Angelica who?"

I snorted back a laugh but my stomach felt churned and twisted. The past two interviews were a disaster; I was hoping third time's a charm.