Skinny Jeans Have No Place On These Thighs
Slap Round The Mouth
If I could have told someone else about it, I would have done. But I can’t because Izzie is the only person, insanely enough, who won’t judge me or have a go at me for taking drugs and going out late with Marcus.
So I sit in Madingley Park and tell Izzie all of it. I tell her about last night, about how I felt so low afterwards, about how Marcus stood up to the Powerpuff Girls for me and about the night at Matthew Kitchen’s house. And how it all begun at Bridget’s impromptu party.
And when I finish, Izzie sits there looking all stunned. “Holy fudge, Ella! I can’t believe it.”
“I know,” I say quietly, playing with my fingers and not really meeting her eye.
I half wish I hadn’t told her because she’s involved now. If this is my attempt to stop sinking, I couldn’t have found a better anchor to keep me docked in a sea of discontent.
“You’ve been doing cocaine all this time?” I confirm it even though she’s just listened to me telling her for ten minutes. Izzie just keeps shaking her head. “God...”
Maybe this is genuine concern and I’ve just become so warped by her immaturity and how much Izzie irritates me that I can’t tell when she’s being sincere anymore.
“You know what I heard the other week?” says Izzie suddenly. “Apparently, Robbie saw Becca getting some weed off some guy that gets on the bus with her.”
There followed a silence that was made awkward by Izzie making confused faces at me.
In the end, I crack first. “...so?”
Izzie sighs and rolls her eyes. “Jeez, just because you’re a crack head now doesn’t mean you can get all snotty with me. I was just saying.”
“I’m not a crack head Izzie. I am quite obviously not a crack head.” I say this as firmly as I possibly can.
It’s suddenly occurring to me that telling Izzie a) may not actually help me at all and b) it might go around our class, and then around school. And then everyone will know. Bridget will know. Maybe even the teachers?!
I’m starting to feel all hot and my cheeks are flushed in a horrible way now.
“You’ve been snorting coke, Ella, it’s the same thing,” claims Izzie in that ‘you’re so stupid’ voice.
“No, it’s not!” I argue, my mind racing to try and think of how cocaine and crack are different.
Is it crack if you smoke it? I’ve only snorted it. Three times. That doesn’t even make you a drug addict, let alone a crack head. I’m not addicted because the thought of it makes me want to be sick and really, really nervous.
Granted, if I keep doing it to hang out with Marcus, I might get a little addicted. But I’d never do it if he wasn’t there. And since he and I aren’t likely to hang out that often (sadly), it won’t ever be a problem.
“Besides, you’ve done it!” I remind her hotly, remembering back to Bridget and Sebs’ impromptu party, all those weeks ago.
Izzie looks smug. “Actually, I just smoked a joint with Andy. He had other stuff but he said I didn’t have to do anything I wasn’t comfortable with.”
That gets me really angry because she’s saying it in such a way to imply that Marcus forced me to do it. When that’s not true at all. The first time, Jenna offered it to me, the second time I’d asked Marcus to get it for me (all right, it was just a ruse to speak to him but he wasn’t to know that) and the third time was last night and it had been Jenna again.
“I was comfortable doing it too. No one made me do anything,” I say quickly and then regret it because Izzie’s eyes light up.
“So, this is your new thing now, is it? Not being Marcus’s girlfriend and trying to spend time with him by filling your nostrils with white powder? Kind of pathetic, don’t you think, Ella?”
“What about you?” I snap then. “Pretending to be sixteen so you don’t get a boy you don’t even really like arrested?”
“What did you just say?” We’re both sitting up straight now, glaring at each other.
“Admit it, Izzie, you’re only going out with him because you made a mistake at that party and you don’t want people to think you’re a slag.”
I never actually thought that before but it suddenly makes so much sense. Why else would Izzie be seen dead with a loser like Andrew Foreman? Saying it out loud makes me feel awful as I would never want to throw that in her face. I think it might be true but I’d never want to hurt Izzie’s feelings about it. Especially since it proved she definitely HAD them.
Izzie looks like I’ve slapped her round the face.
“You are such an ungrateful, little cow!” she snaps at me, looking livid. “I come down to listen you to whine about your problems – which, by the way, you’re brought entirely upon yourself! – and you have the nerve to start throwing around wild accusations about me and my boyfriend?”
Izzie’s like this; she’s in love with arguing, taking offence and feeling like she’s rebelling against other people’s more ‘conservative’ opinions.
I stammer out an apology but Izzie completely disregards it, thoroughly enjoying our disagreement. “Don’t even try and take it back. You have a real problem with my relationship, don’t you, Ella? Has it occurred to you that you’re just jealous? Because I have a real boyfriend who makes time for me – not someone I follow around like a dog and snorting anything that you cram up your stuck up nose in the hope that he’ll actually NOTICE you’re there!”
Izzie stops to draw breath.
“You’re pathetic, Ella. You really need to get a life. Seriously. I feel sorry for you. ”
She gets up and swings her bag over her shoulder. It hits her side a little too hard but she doesn’t flinch and spoil her cinematic exit as she she flicks back her hair and retorts primly,
“Call me when you’re grown up, yeah?”
And with that, she turns her back on me and strides away, leaving me wondering where I was when everyone else was standing in line for a best friend.
So I sit in Madingley Park and tell Izzie all of it. I tell her about last night, about how I felt so low afterwards, about how Marcus stood up to the Powerpuff Girls for me and about the night at Matthew Kitchen’s house. And how it all begun at Bridget’s impromptu party.
And when I finish, Izzie sits there looking all stunned. “Holy fudge, Ella! I can’t believe it.”
“I know,” I say quietly, playing with my fingers and not really meeting her eye.
I half wish I hadn’t told her because she’s involved now. If this is my attempt to stop sinking, I couldn’t have found a better anchor to keep me docked in a sea of discontent.
“You’ve been doing cocaine all this time?” I confirm it even though she’s just listened to me telling her for ten minutes. Izzie just keeps shaking her head. “God...”
Maybe this is genuine concern and I’ve just become so warped by her immaturity and how much Izzie irritates me that I can’t tell when she’s being sincere anymore.
“You know what I heard the other week?” says Izzie suddenly. “Apparently, Robbie saw Becca getting some weed off some guy that gets on the bus with her.”
There followed a silence that was made awkward by Izzie making confused faces at me.
In the end, I crack first. “...so?”
Izzie sighs and rolls her eyes. “Jeez, just because you’re a crack head now doesn’t mean you can get all snotty with me. I was just saying.”
“I’m not a crack head Izzie. I am quite obviously not a crack head.” I say this as firmly as I possibly can.
It’s suddenly occurring to me that telling Izzie a) may not actually help me at all and b) it might go around our class, and then around school. And then everyone will know. Bridget will know. Maybe even the teachers?!
I’m starting to feel all hot and my cheeks are flushed in a horrible way now.
“You’ve been snorting coke, Ella, it’s the same thing,” claims Izzie in that ‘you’re so stupid’ voice.
“No, it’s not!” I argue, my mind racing to try and think of how cocaine and crack are different.
Is it crack if you smoke it? I’ve only snorted it. Three times. That doesn’t even make you a drug addict, let alone a crack head. I’m not addicted because the thought of it makes me want to be sick and really, really nervous.
Granted, if I keep doing it to hang out with Marcus, I might get a little addicted. But I’d never do it if he wasn’t there. And since he and I aren’t likely to hang out that often (sadly), it won’t ever be a problem.
“Besides, you’ve done it!” I remind her hotly, remembering back to Bridget and Sebs’ impromptu party, all those weeks ago.
Izzie looks smug. “Actually, I just smoked a joint with Andy. He had other stuff but he said I didn’t have to do anything I wasn’t comfortable with.”
That gets me really angry because she’s saying it in such a way to imply that Marcus forced me to do it. When that’s not true at all. The first time, Jenna offered it to me, the second time I’d asked Marcus to get it for me (all right, it was just a ruse to speak to him but he wasn’t to know that) and the third time was last night and it had been Jenna again.
“I was comfortable doing it too. No one made me do anything,” I say quickly and then regret it because Izzie’s eyes light up.
“So, this is your new thing now, is it? Not being Marcus’s girlfriend and trying to spend time with him by filling your nostrils with white powder? Kind of pathetic, don’t you think, Ella?”
“What about you?” I snap then. “Pretending to be sixteen so you don’t get a boy you don’t even really like arrested?”
“What did you just say?” We’re both sitting up straight now, glaring at each other.
“Admit it, Izzie, you’re only going out with him because you made a mistake at that party and you don’t want people to think you’re a slag.”
I never actually thought that before but it suddenly makes so much sense. Why else would Izzie be seen dead with a loser like Andrew Foreman? Saying it out loud makes me feel awful as I would never want to throw that in her face. I think it might be true but I’d never want to hurt Izzie’s feelings about it. Especially since it proved she definitely HAD them.
Izzie looks like I’ve slapped her round the face.
“You are such an ungrateful, little cow!” she snaps at me, looking livid. “I come down to listen you to whine about your problems – which, by the way, you’re brought entirely upon yourself! – and you have the nerve to start throwing around wild accusations about me and my boyfriend?”
Izzie’s like this; she’s in love with arguing, taking offence and feeling like she’s rebelling against other people’s more ‘conservative’ opinions.
I stammer out an apology but Izzie completely disregards it, thoroughly enjoying our disagreement. “Don’t even try and take it back. You have a real problem with my relationship, don’t you, Ella? Has it occurred to you that you’re just jealous? Because I have a real boyfriend who makes time for me – not someone I follow around like a dog and snorting anything that you cram up your stuck up nose in the hope that he’ll actually NOTICE you’re there!”
Izzie stops to draw breath.
“You’re pathetic, Ella. You really need to get a life. Seriously. I feel sorry for you. ”
She gets up and swings her bag over her shoulder. It hits her side a little too hard but she doesn’t flinch and spoil her cinematic exit as she she flicks back her hair and retorts primly,
“Call me when you’re grown up, yeah?”
And with that, she turns her back on me and strides away, leaving me wondering where I was when everyone else was standing in line for a best friend.
♠ ♠ ♠
Elizabeth 'Izzie' Valentine's new dub step band is called URBAN THROATS.End of hiatus.