Skinny Jeans Have No Place On These Thighs
People Sometimes Surprise You
When I get in from school, Mum makes me sit down and do my homework at the kitchen table. Where she can see me.
There's nothing worse than being made to feel like you're so small, so insignificant. That's how I felt. Like a complete baby. No independance. Not any.
If Dominic, Izzie's Dad, tried to make her sit at the kitchen table and do her homework, she would have laughed and just flounced off. But you can't do that with my mother. She'd used that tone of voice that makes my stomach want to bleed and it always makes me do what I'm told.
I sit there and do my maths, because I hate that the most. When in the real world will I need to know about vectors anyway? Then I do my geography. Even though I learned how colour in when I was a toddler. Of course now I can stay in the lines.
Thankfully, my history homework is much more interesting. Questions on why Henry VIII had Cardinal Wolsey around him all the time, which honestly I do prefer. It might have been years ago but this stuff might repeat itself. It's relevant at least.
I'm almost done when the phone rings. My mum answers it, sounding all sweet in her 'phone' voice.
"Hello? . . . Oh, hello, Izzie . . . I'm afraid she's doing her homework at the moment but I can get her to call you back."
"That's all right, I'm finished!" I stammer, leaping to my feet and taking the phone out of her hand trying to be as unenthusiastic as possible before hurrying upstairs to my room.
I can hear Izzie laughing down the phone at me.
"Aw, aren't you a good little girl? It's not even half past five and already you've done all your homework! Do you want a star? Or a ticket back to the real world?"
"Don't!" I sigh, closing my bedroom door quietly behind me and slumping onto my bed.
"If she bothers you so much, why don't you say anything?" asks Izzie in a voice that really annoys me. She knows exactly what my Mum is like. She also knows you can't talk back to her! Especially if you're me.
I mumble something inaudibly and Izzie laughs again.
"Whatever. Do you want to come over tonight? Now that you've done your homework and chores and swept the roads or whatever your Mum wants you to do?"
"I can't, I'm grounded!" I hiss crossly. She doesn't need to rub in the fact that I can't go out!
"Well, then, can I come over for a bit?"
"What part of 'I'm grounded' don't you understand?" I say sourly.
I hate the way I sound sometimes - such a goodie two shoes. For goodness sake, on Friday night, I was taking cocaine and kissing the greatest boy in the world. Now I'm back to homework and my mother - why such extremes allowed in the world?
"Being grounded means you can't go out!" points out Izzie with a giggle. "If I came over, you'd still be inside. Just with company."
"Well for my Mum, being grounded means not having any sort of fun. I'm surprised she's even letting me talk to you on the phone."
"Whatever. I'll just tell you now then. Andrew asked me to be his girlfriend. Official girlfriend! Can you believe it?"
I don't have the nerve to say, "I'd bloody well hope so!" I mean, she's already slept with him! I would have hoped the girlfriend bit was implied!
So I just say, "That's nice."
"God, can't you be a little more excited for me, Ella?" asks Izzie, sounding mildly offended. "I thought you'd be happy that I was happy."
"I am happy Iz," I tell her. "But . . . you caused Bridget such a lot of trouble. Shouldn't you apologise to her? For the sake of our friendship?"
"God, if Bridget can't over a little thing like that, then she seriously needs to just get over herself! It's not that big a deal, is it?"
"To Bridget it is," I say. I actually entirely side with Bridget with this one. If Izzie had had sex with Andrew Foreman in MY bed, left four condoms under the duvet and soaked the mattress with blood and . . . substances, I would want an apology.
But I learned a long time ago to let them get on with it when they argue. They've never argued much but if they do, it's best to let it cool off organically.
"OK, Ella, can we not talk about Bridget for five minutes and talk about me? This is boy talk, right? Not Bridge talk!"
I sigh heavily. Too heavily.
"Could you try being a little less self-involved Ella?" snaps Izzie. She definitely sounds offended now.
"Self involved?" I point out. "What are you saying?"
"I mean, you could take the slightest interest in me and what's happening!"
"You have the nerve to call me self-involved?" I stutter, unable to believe what I'm hearing. "This coming from you? You know, you haven't asked ONE question about what happened between me and Marcus."
"I already know what happened - nothing!" Izzie says with maddening confidence. "You're just not like that Ella. I do actually know you, you know? I'm your best friend."
"If you're my best friend, then maybe you could try asking what I got up to on Friday night!" I shout.
Honestly. She thinks she's the only one who does anything wild. Well, I did too! I took drugs! I made out with a guy! And, just because she acted like a total slut and went way too far for the first time, she gets all the attention. As usual!
"You don't know anything about me!" I yelled down the phone. "You don't care about me! You're embarrassed by me. And if you could just take your eyes off Andrew and your stupid dub step music for ONE second, you'd see all that!"
And then, I hang up the phone. I've just hung up on my best friend.
I suddenly feel my stomach getting all squelchy again. Izzie and I never argue! It's not a nice feeling at all.
There's a knock at my door. My Mum wants to know why I was shouting. I open the door and mumble without actually explaining anything and give her the phone back. She bossily asks me what's the matter but I just shrug and act like everything's fine.
*
Half an hour later, there's a knock at the front door. Two minutes later, there's a knock at my door.
I know it's stupid but for one wonderful moment I think it's Marcus and that he's come to see me. Even though that's ridiculous because for one thing, he doesn't know where I live. Secondly, Marcus is definitely NOT the sort of person to brave somebody's interfering mother to get to see you. And, most importantly, it's quite clear that Marcus doesn't want to see me again.
Izzie sticks her head around the door. In her hands, she's got her red satchell that I bought her for her birthday last year which I'm a little surprised to see her using.
Izzie slides in and sits next to me on the bed. I don't bother asking how she managed to persuade my Mum to let her up. Even with my mother, Izzie can usually get her own way. It's a gift.
"OK," says Izzie slowly. "Firstly, ouch."
I looked at her in surprise.
Izzie returns the stare and frowns. "What you said, kind of hurt. A lot. I'm not sure which bit hurt the most but the bit that stuck was that you think I don't know anything about you. Because that's not true."
Izzie reaches into her bag and pulls out a bag of grapes and passes it to me.
"I know that you like purple food when you're upset or ill. I know you love your snow globes and that you cried the day you lost the bid on Ebay for that limited edition Princess Ariel globe even though you told me and Bridget you didn't."
I blush slightly at that. I hadn't realised that Izzie knew about that. Not my finest hour.
"I know you cried the day Heath Ledger died and that you haven't been able to bring yourself to watch any of his films since, except The Dark Knight. Which I think is sad because by not watching him, you're not letting his memory live on forever. You're just soaking up the sadness. And you don't have to!"
It's then that she pushes Ten Things I Hate About You into my hand.
"I know you disapprove of the way I was acting on Friday night. Which I sort of was expecting. And the reason I didn't ask about you was because I didn't think Marcus and you had done anything because you didn't look any different on Monday. Just pissed off. So I assumed nothing had happened and you didn't want to talk about it because you were annoyed with yourself for not making it happen. Or something.
"I think I know you really well. But then, you go and surprise me. And it makes me want to know more about you. Because you're my best friend."
Izzie grins then.
"So. Tell me ALL about it!"
There's nothing worse than being made to feel like you're so small, so insignificant. That's how I felt. Like a complete baby. No independance. Not any.
If Dominic, Izzie's Dad, tried to make her sit at the kitchen table and do her homework, she would have laughed and just flounced off. But you can't do that with my mother. She'd used that tone of voice that makes my stomach want to bleed and it always makes me do what I'm told.
I sit there and do my maths, because I hate that the most. When in the real world will I need to know about vectors anyway? Then I do my geography. Even though I learned how colour in when I was a toddler. Of course now I can stay in the lines.
Thankfully, my history homework is much more interesting. Questions on why Henry VIII had Cardinal Wolsey around him all the time, which honestly I do prefer. It might have been years ago but this stuff might repeat itself. It's relevant at least.
I'm almost done when the phone rings. My mum answers it, sounding all sweet in her 'phone' voice.
"Hello? . . . Oh, hello, Izzie . . . I'm afraid she's doing her homework at the moment but I can get her to call you back."
"That's all right, I'm finished!" I stammer, leaping to my feet and taking the phone out of her hand trying to be as unenthusiastic as possible before hurrying upstairs to my room.
I can hear Izzie laughing down the phone at me.
"Aw, aren't you a good little girl? It's not even half past five and already you've done all your homework! Do you want a star? Or a ticket back to the real world?"
"Don't!" I sigh, closing my bedroom door quietly behind me and slumping onto my bed.
"If she bothers you so much, why don't you say anything?" asks Izzie in a voice that really annoys me. She knows exactly what my Mum is like. She also knows you can't talk back to her! Especially if you're me.
I mumble something inaudibly and Izzie laughs again.
"Whatever. Do you want to come over tonight? Now that you've done your homework and chores and swept the roads or whatever your Mum wants you to do?"
"I can't, I'm grounded!" I hiss crossly. She doesn't need to rub in the fact that I can't go out!
"Well, then, can I come over for a bit?"
"What part of 'I'm grounded' don't you understand?" I say sourly.
I hate the way I sound sometimes - such a goodie two shoes. For goodness sake, on Friday night, I was taking cocaine and kissing the greatest boy in the world. Now I'm back to homework and my mother - why such extremes allowed in the world?
"Being grounded means you can't go out!" points out Izzie with a giggle. "If I came over, you'd still be inside. Just with company."
"Well for my Mum, being grounded means not having any sort of fun. I'm surprised she's even letting me talk to you on the phone."
"Whatever. I'll just tell you now then. Andrew asked me to be his girlfriend. Official girlfriend! Can you believe it?"
I don't have the nerve to say, "I'd bloody well hope so!" I mean, she's already slept with him! I would have hoped the girlfriend bit was implied!
So I just say, "That's nice."
"God, can't you be a little more excited for me, Ella?" asks Izzie, sounding mildly offended. "I thought you'd be happy that I was happy."
"I am happy Iz," I tell her. "But . . . you caused Bridget such a lot of trouble. Shouldn't you apologise to her? For the sake of our friendship?"
"God, if Bridget can't over a little thing like that, then she seriously needs to just get over herself! It's not that big a deal, is it?"
"To Bridget it is," I say. I actually entirely side with Bridget with this one. If Izzie had had sex with Andrew Foreman in MY bed, left four condoms under the duvet and soaked the mattress with blood and . . . substances, I would want an apology.
But I learned a long time ago to let them get on with it when they argue. They've never argued much but if they do, it's best to let it cool off organically.
"OK, Ella, can we not talk about Bridget for five minutes and talk about me? This is boy talk, right? Not Bridge talk!"
I sigh heavily. Too heavily.
"Could you try being a little less self-involved Ella?" snaps Izzie. She definitely sounds offended now.
"Self involved?" I point out. "What are you saying?"
"I mean, you could take the slightest interest in me and what's happening!"
"You have the nerve to call me self-involved?" I stutter, unable to believe what I'm hearing. "This coming from you? You know, you haven't asked ONE question about what happened between me and Marcus."
"I already know what happened - nothing!" Izzie says with maddening confidence. "You're just not like that Ella. I do actually know you, you know? I'm your best friend."
"If you're my best friend, then maybe you could try asking what I got up to on Friday night!" I shout.
Honestly. She thinks she's the only one who does anything wild. Well, I did too! I took drugs! I made out with a guy! And, just because she acted like a total slut and went way too far for the first time, she gets all the attention. As usual!
"You don't know anything about me!" I yelled down the phone. "You don't care about me! You're embarrassed by me. And if you could just take your eyes off Andrew and your stupid dub step music for ONE second, you'd see all that!"
And then, I hang up the phone. I've just hung up on my best friend.
I suddenly feel my stomach getting all squelchy again. Izzie and I never argue! It's not a nice feeling at all.
There's a knock at my door. My Mum wants to know why I was shouting. I open the door and mumble without actually explaining anything and give her the phone back. She bossily asks me what's the matter but I just shrug and act like everything's fine.
*
Half an hour later, there's a knock at the front door. Two minutes later, there's a knock at my door.
I know it's stupid but for one wonderful moment I think it's Marcus and that he's come to see me. Even though that's ridiculous because for one thing, he doesn't know where I live. Secondly, Marcus is definitely NOT the sort of person to brave somebody's interfering mother to get to see you. And, most importantly, it's quite clear that Marcus doesn't want to see me again.
Izzie sticks her head around the door. In her hands, she's got her red satchell that I bought her for her birthday last year which I'm a little surprised to see her using.
Izzie slides in and sits next to me on the bed. I don't bother asking how she managed to persuade my Mum to let her up. Even with my mother, Izzie can usually get her own way. It's a gift.
"OK," says Izzie slowly. "Firstly, ouch."
I looked at her in surprise.
Izzie returns the stare and frowns. "What you said, kind of hurt. A lot. I'm not sure which bit hurt the most but the bit that stuck was that you think I don't know anything about you. Because that's not true."
Izzie reaches into her bag and pulls out a bag of grapes and passes it to me.
"I know that you like purple food when you're upset or ill. I know you love your snow globes and that you cried the day you lost the bid on Ebay for that limited edition Princess Ariel globe even though you told me and Bridget you didn't."
I blush slightly at that. I hadn't realised that Izzie knew about that. Not my finest hour.
"I know you cried the day Heath Ledger died and that you haven't been able to bring yourself to watch any of his films since, except The Dark Knight. Which I think is sad because by not watching him, you're not letting his memory live on forever. You're just soaking up the sadness. And you don't have to!"
It's then that she pushes Ten Things I Hate About You into my hand.
"I know you disapprove of the way I was acting on Friday night. Which I sort of was expecting. And the reason I didn't ask about you was because I didn't think Marcus and you had done anything because you didn't look any different on Monday. Just pissed off. So I assumed nothing had happened and you didn't want to talk about it because you were annoyed with yourself for not making it happen. Or something.
"I think I know you really well. But then, you go and surprise me. And it makes me want to know more about you. Because you're my best friend."
Izzie grins then.
"So. Tell me ALL about it!"
♠ ♠ ♠
Elizabeth 'Izzie' Valentine isn't as a bad a friend as you'd think.