Her New Disguise is Butterflies
09
I stepped over Peaches, who was currently rolling around Polly's bedroom in her clear plastic exercise ball. I'd brought the one that she couldn't escape from, because Polly was jumpy and anxious at the sight of her in the cage, never mind roaming free around her bedroom.
Friday day had dragged excruciatingly slowly. I was over excited for the night to come as quick as possible. We saw Matt at school, and he told us not to bring Sacha along tonight. Which was highly impossible since she was already laid across Polly's bed, flicking through a glossy magazine, talking at the speed of light at how she was infatuated with Matt, after only speaking to him a couple of times and secretly checking him out when they passed in the school corridors. As I've said before, I will say it again, she is a disgrace. She'd feigned illness at lunch time and bogged off home to start getting ready for the show, meaning she was finished at four thirty, and we'd only just managed to get home by that time.
I'd fed Joanne the lie about me staying at Polly's tonight, along with Libby, saying the three of us weren't allowed to go, but Sacha was. I just had to warn Tart Face not to let it slip when she came to call for me on Monday morning. If she did, I'd personally have her hung, drawn and quartered, like what they did to Dick Turpin. Was it Dick Turpin? I don't know. Who cares anyway? It was some old geezer from a billion years ago.
Sacha began applying more foundation to her already overly made up face. Let's face it, she'd have a lot of protection if someone slapped her across the face tonight, the other person's hand might just bounce off with the amount of make up she'd shoveled on tonight. If Matt kissed her cheek, he'd end up with orange lips. Poor lad.
"So how far have you got with wowing Josh?" She asked, pouting her lips in front of her compact, then pulling out her tube of bright pink lip gloss and applying layer upon layer. Probably so her lips didn't get lost in the twelve inches of foundation that was sticking up from her skin.
"Not very," I said, pushing a hair clip into my straightened hair. I had to make sure there were no kinks in it whatsoever. I can't have Libby pointing out my obvious flaws again. It would only pull my confidence down. I have such great friends, right?
"But she will tonight, right Bliss?" Polly asked, waving her curling tongs around in the hair. She should seriously watch what she was doing with those things. Someone could have an eye out soon.
I nodded, attempting not to get liquid eyeliner in my eye. I can't go through that sort of pain again. I thought I'd gone blind, or was going there anyway.
"And how do you plan to do that when you can barely talk when he's around?" Sacha asked, curiously, tossing the magazine aside and inspecting her chipped purple nail polish.
"I did talk to him yesterday, held eye contact and everything." I kept my eyes closed, letting the eyeliner dry, because I didn't want to go blind and at the same time I didn't want black smudges near my eyebrows. It's not a good look.
"Oh wow, Bliss, amazing. Seriously."
"Someone's grumpy tonight."
"Matt knocked her back," Polly hissed.
I opened one eye and turned around to look at Sacha. "Oh really, so you asked him?"
"No," she sighed heavily, "I want to, but he doesn't seem interested."
"You want my advice?"
"Not particularly, no."
"I'm giving it to you anyway, stop chasing the poor boy!"
"Why?"
"He's scared of you. Terrified, in fact. And when I say chasing, I mean literally running around after him. It's like psycho stalker Sacha is breaking free and she wants Matt, so she'll hunt him down, throw him on the floor and kiss his brains out."
"Coming to a cinema near you, "Psycho Stalker Sacha', teenage boys watch out, she's single and on the loose, she'll chase you down," Polly said in a gruff voice, like the voice overs at the cinema.
"Oh ha, ha," Sacha pulled a face and threw one of Polly's pillows at her.
"Can we hurry up, please?" I asked, suddenly anxious.
"Oooh, yes, Miss Bliss, because I want another look at Josh's arse," Polly smirked, switching off her curling tongs and dancing around, only resulting in Peaches' ball getting tangled in her legs and she fell flat on her face. I chuckled.
"But seriously, Polly, please don't undress him with your eyes. That's Bliss' job," Sacha smirked. I threw my eyeliner pencil at her, which she dodged expertly.
The Princess' friends helped her get ready for the ball, her long blonde curls were piled up on her head and she was wearing the finest dress anyone had ever set eyes on. The Prince wouldn't be able to resist her, and she knew that. Everything was going to be perfect. He'd sweep her off her feet and they'd ride off into the sunset together on the Prince's stallion.
Friday day had dragged excruciatingly slowly. I was over excited for the night to come as quick as possible. We saw Matt at school, and he told us not to bring Sacha along tonight. Which was highly impossible since she was already laid across Polly's bed, flicking through a glossy magazine, talking at the speed of light at how she was infatuated with Matt, after only speaking to him a couple of times and secretly checking him out when they passed in the school corridors. As I've said before, I will say it again, she is a disgrace. She'd feigned illness at lunch time and bogged off home to start getting ready for the show, meaning she was finished at four thirty, and we'd only just managed to get home by that time.
I'd fed Joanne the lie about me staying at Polly's tonight, along with Libby, saying the three of us weren't allowed to go, but Sacha was. I just had to warn Tart Face not to let it slip when she came to call for me on Monday morning. If she did, I'd personally have her hung, drawn and quartered, like what they did to Dick Turpin. Was it Dick Turpin? I don't know. Who cares anyway? It was some old geezer from a billion years ago.
Sacha began applying more foundation to her already overly made up face. Let's face it, she'd have a lot of protection if someone slapped her across the face tonight, the other person's hand might just bounce off with the amount of make up she'd shoveled on tonight. If Matt kissed her cheek, he'd end up with orange lips. Poor lad.
"So how far have you got with wowing Josh?" She asked, pouting her lips in front of her compact, then pulling out her tube of bright pink lip gloss and applying layer upon layer. Probably so her lips didn't get lost in the twelve inches of foundation that was sticking up from her skin.
"Not very," I said, pushing a hair clip into my straightened hair. I had to make sure there were no kinks in it whatsoever. I can't have Libby pointing out my obvious flaws again. It would only pull my confidence down. I have such great friends, right?
"But she will tonight, right Bliss?" Polly asked, waving her curling tongs around in the hair. She should seriously watch what she was doing with those things. Someone could have an eye out soon.
I nodded, attempting not to get liquid eyeliner in my eye. I can't go through that sort of pain again. I thought I'd gone blind, or was going there anyway.
"And how do you plan to do that when you can barely talk when he's around?" Sacha asked, curiously, tossing the magazine aside and inspecting her chipped purple nail polish.
"I did talk to him yesterday, held eye contact and everything." I kept my eyes closed, letting the eyeliner dry, because I didn't want to go blind and at the same time I didn't want black smudges near my eyebrows. It's not a good look.
"Oh wow, Bliss, amazing. Seriously."
"Someone's grumpy tonight."
"Matt knocked her back," Polly hissed.
I opened one eye and turned around to look at Sacha. "Oh really, so you asked him?"
"No," she sighed heavily, "I want to, but he doesn't seem interested."
"You want my advice?"
"Not particularly, no."
"I'm giving it to you anyway, stop chasing the poor boy!"
"Why?"
"He's scared of you. Terrified, in fact. And when I say chasing, I mean literally running around after him. It's like psycho stalker Sacha is breaking free and she wants Matt, so she'll hunt him down, throw him on the floor and kiss his brains out."
"Coming to a cinema near you, "Psycho Stalker Sacha', teenage boys watch out, she's single and on the loose, she'll chase you down," Polly said in a gruff voice, like the voice overs at the cinema.
"Oh ha, ha," Sacha pulled a face and threw one of Polly's pillows at her.
"Can we hurry up, please?" I asked, suddenly anxious.
"Oooh, yes, Miss Bliss, because I want another look at Josh's arse," Polly smirked, switching off her curling tongs and dancing around, only resulting in Peaches' ball getting tangled in her legs and she fell flat on her face. I chuckled.
"But seriously, Polly, please don't undress him with your eyes. That's Bliss' job," Sacha smirked. I threw my eyeliner pencil at her, which she dodged expertly.
The Princess' friends helped her get ready for the ball, her long blonde curls were piled up on her head and she was wearing the finest dress anyone had ever set eyes on. The Prince wouldn't be able to resist her, and she knew that. Everything was going to be perfect. He'd sweep her off her feet and they'd ride off into the sunset together on the Prince's stallion.