Mates, Dates and ♥♡♥ Inflatable Bras. Book 1

Chapter 1. What Makes Me 'Me'?

If she picks me out in class again, I shall scream.

     Wacko Watkins. That's what I call her. Our new teacher. We've got her for PSHE first period this morning, worse luck.

     'I wonder what kind of weird project she's got lined up to torture us this week,' I said, as we hurried down the corridor to get to our classroom before second bell.

   She's Ok as teachers go,' said Izzie. 'She makes you think about stuff. And seems really interested in what we feel. I like her lessons.'

   Well I don't,' I said. 'It's bad enough having a mum who's a shrink without getting it at school as well. I get that "let's all share our feelings" stuff at home. I wish Watkins would give me a break here. She always singles me out.'

   'Probably because you're quiet in class. She's trying to find out what's going on in that daft head of yours. You're lucky. At least your mum and dad bother to ask what's going on. All mine care about are my marks. Whether I get A, B or C. I think I'd faint from shock if either of them asked how I actually felt about anything.'

                                   👙👙

Izzie's my best mate. Or was. I'm not sure any more. Not since Nesta Williams arrived at the end of last term. Izzie and I have hung out together since junior high. It's always been me and Izzie. Izzie and me. Sharing everything. Clothes, makeup, CDs, secrets. And then along comes Nesta and I reckon it's two's company, three's a crowd. But I seem to be the only one who sees it that way. I'm going to have to tackle Izzie about it but I rarely get her on her own these days.

     Hurry along and take your place, girls,' called Miss Watkins, coming up behind us.

     I hope she hadn't heard what I said about her.

     Miss Watkins is a bit odd looking. Make that very odd looking. She looks like she put a finger in an electric socket. Her expression is always startled, like a cartoon character who's seen something shocking and their eyes pop out. She's as thin as a wire and her hair's frizzy grey, coiling out at all angles.

     'Ok, girls, now settle down,' she said. 'We've got a lot to talk about today.'

     Here we go. Talk. Talk. Let's talk. I wish we could read today. Or write. Quietly. Why do we have to talk? Doesn't anyone realise I am going through a quiet but mysterious phase?

     As Wacko perched on the corner of her desk and hitched her skirt up, we all got an eyeful of her pale legs above knee-high stockings. She has skin like cling film. Transparent. You can see all the veins underneath it. Enough to bring up your breakfast up first thing in the morning, I can tell you.

     There's a few things I want you to start thinking about for this term,' she continued. 'As you probably know, it's soon going to be time to choose your GCSE subjects for next year. Which ones you want to do.'

     I inwardly groaned. I've been dreading this. See, I don't know what I want to do. Haven't a clue. Not the faintest.

     'I know it's a lot to think about and I don't want any of you to feel pressurised. We've plenty of time, that's why I want you to give it some attention now so it doesn't come as a big rush later on'

     Too late, I thought, I am already in major panic mode.
     I want you to think about your future goals. Ambitions. What do you want to be when you are older. Right, anybody got any ideas?'

     She started to look around the class so I put my head down and tried to be invisible.

     'Lucy?'